Older Sister. Not Necessarily Related.

About a year ago, I read a book written by a Korean/American musician/artist, Michelle Zauner, about her childhood in the United States and the difficulties she encountered as a child who didn’t look like her classmates, whose family didn’t eat what her friends’ families ate, whose parents had high expectations for her, and who had relatives in Korea whom she learned to love over the years. That memoir was written after the death of Michelle’s mother, which forced Michelle to reflect on her cultural heritage and identity. It was a very interesting book to read, even if sad, sometimes, of course.

This time, the memoir I read, Older Sister, Not Necessarily Related, was written by a young Korean/Canadian woman, Jenny Heijun Wills, who was adopted by a Canadian family almost at birth, and her trips back to Korea to try to reconnect with her birth family. Since her birth father was not married to her birth mother but to another woman, the grandfather took the child away and sent her to be adopted, telling the family that the baby had died. Of course, things are not easy for anyone involved, because of guilt, time passed, secrets, jealousy, cultural differences, and regrets. One of Jenny’s half sisters gets closer to her than anyone else, while her other (older) half sister refuses to get close to her. Her birth mother and father reconnect thanks to this quest, but Jenny’s relationships with her birth family and her adoptive family get complicated and they all go through some rough patches and questions and challenges and sadness.

This new book, too, was very interesting, but it was difficult to hear about so much sadness and so many negative experiences. I did not expect the book to be all puppies and sunshine, of course, but I would have loved to know if Jenny had a happy childhood with her adoptive family, what her academic research on adopted children taught her, and how she met her boyfriend/husband who seems so amazing. I can’t imagine that being torn between two worlds would be easy, and many of Jenny’s reflections and stories were eye-opening and often shocking, especially when she talks about all these Korean adoptees who, like her, were raised in other countries and go back to Korea in search of their families. But some moments in her life must have been happy or at least happier–I hope–and I would have loved to read about these, too.

I just don’t want to read anything sad anymore, so maybe I just won’t read anything written by Korean women for a while and that’ll do the trick!