Friday, 31 August 2012

Art Keeps Us Together.

Hello Readers. If you would have told me 4 years ago that I wouldn't be engaged at 22 because I'd be single at 21, I'd think you were crazy. So here I am in crazy. I actually really do enjoy being single, it's amazing how much more time I have to be with friends, try fun new things, and most importantly to work on art.

The one thing in art that just breaks my heart is how much I miss charcoal. For those of you who don't know me, Charcoal is what got me into a ridiculous amount of art schools. It's why they all send me big bulbous packets each semester, But I never go.

I worked with charcoal from 7th grade through my first year of college. After I left art school, I just couldn't do it anymore. Even though it was my art home and first fine art love. It's what made the fine arts fit so perfectly for me. It was a specially made soft-nude lamb skin glove, with a bow on top of the wrist. I've tried to work with it, but it never turns out. It's a dance I used to be so fawned of, but now I know all the wrong steps.

This morning I was watching my absolute favorite design show Flipping Out, and being a girl looking up Martha Stewart Weddings. There's one art inspired cake that I've been in love with for years. It's inspired by "The Basket of Apples," by Paul Cezanne, circa 1893. French Post-Impressionism is what I used to look at, study, and admire for hours on end back in my art days. It's how the soft thick angular contour lines flowed through the whole picture that were so dear to me. My work felt like the more stylistic cousin of it.

A friend was over and started asking me all sorts of questions about my old work. How I felt when I made it, how the charcoal made me feel, and what was my life like now that it's gone. I gave this crazy big deep speech, that made them cry to see how happy I was speaking of an old familiar love. It went something like this.

Viewing "The Basket of Apples," by Paul Cezanne.. It reminded me why I loved charcoal so much, and how I felt about it. I used realistic and stylistic contour lines, but the shading was this soft grey velvet against these almost soft onyx lines. Like walking up the path in the middle of a European winter, The house is old with wood finishings. The deep wood is full of soft rich nooks, and crannies, and marks. The marks full of love, romance, and loneliness. The most beautiful long love you will ever whiteness. You walk in and are suddenly wrapped up in a big lush, thick woven, cream wool blanket. You're completely covered and enveloped by warmth.

Like an old European couple walking into town on a clear winter day. The snow sweetly softly crunching under their feet, all bundle up and warm. Still holding hands, Telling stories to each other, and sharing the oldest of loves together. She still wears pumps and the same soft-nude pink lip color from their first kiss as teen lovers, and their wedding day. He shines his shoes every day for her and still wears the silk navy tie she got him on their first wedding anniversary. The one when he couldn't afford to get her a gift, but on his way hone from work he picked a white chrysanthemum. Which has been her favorite flower ever since. She still cooks an egg in a basket to share in the morning, and he gets their wool coats pressed every week. They're love as deep and as rich as the 2 hundred year old wood that holds their home together. The saddest deepest love, only having a few years left to last. Both afraid the other will go first; Both hoping to go together. As they reach the door of the shoppe, just as the cold is about to sink into their bones, he turns her around and they share the most tragically romantic kiss..

This is the emotion I get from French Post-Impressionism, This is how charcoal used to make me feel. This deep tragic and lonely sense if truly being home, belonging somewhere warm and inviting. Being reminded of it this morning has made today a little less hard. It's less hard because it's a reminder that I must have gotten my love of art from somewhere deeper than exposer to it as a kid. I'm happy to still have these sweetly sad romantic emotions in art, it makes me feel close to my birth family.

I cried all day, and all night, but at least my heart wasn't alone. I love my birth family so truly much. I love knowing art connects me to them on the other side of the world.

Wednesday, 29 August 2012

I Got Out Of Shock.

*Context: So I wrote this last night, and posted it right away. Then I deleted it.the last hand full of blogs I've been delaying before I post. When I posted it right away I panicked. I needed to let the gravity of it sink in first. I needed it to be just for me before I share it with you all. Thank you for waiting.*

Hello Readers. Last night I came out of shock.

I felt this bubble of frustration and started talking allowed to my birth mother. "Where are you! Do you not want to be found! Why does this have to be so damn hard!" I screamed and suddenly all the fear and pain that's been suspended over my head came crashing down. I could feel every heavy brick and every jagged piece of rubble falling on me, cutting into me, and knocking me down. I can't believe how much harder my search has gotten this past week. This is the most devastating news I've ever gotten. I am so truly scared of the answers I might get that I can't stop shaking.

I laid on the couch crying on and off from 5pm till 7am. I finally fell asleep from exhaustion. I got a few texts from a couple friends and received a phone called during my absolute cry fest. True to form I replied to all of them as normally as I could. I really hate bumming people out by dumping how horrible I feel all over them. People generally think I'm this strong happy girl, but really the best acting I've ever done is in real life. You're not strong when you have no choice, things just happen to you. I am so good at swallowing pain it scares me. No one should be able to hide that well. It concerns me that I do.

I responded to the texts and call very cool and collected.. Just how I fear every sweet Korean girl is expected to act by American standards. Polite and structured. Maybe I swallow my aches so well because it's just in me as an Asian woman? But then maybe I have aches because I'm an Asian woman.

I haven't cried very much today, but I feel horribly depressed. I really hate everyone right now, except for my friends who also hate everyone. However this morning I woke up early and finally picked up my duvet cover, pillows, and pillow cases. The colors of pale yellow, eggshell, beige, and light charcoal help my state of mind a lot. As does my rad grass green shaggy rug. I'm trying to talk to my art friends about lightening their rooms as well. We're all pretty color sensitive.

I continued my day by heading over to the Minnehaha falls with an old friend. We biked around the falls and climbed down the rock. I couldn't shut up about "Finding Laura Buggs" by Stanley Gordon West, a book based on the area. There's a spot in the rock that's carved out, Laura would climb into it when she needed to be alone. It was really interesting to climb in. Then we got all dolled up to glam it at a super Minnesotan bar, Buffalo Tap, with some other old friends. We ordered a bottle of Grey Goose and got classy! I masked my pain well, ey?

Now I'm home early. Chucked the mask, Chucked the stilettos in the corner, stripped off my dress, Korean-bunned my hair, and slipped on oversized blouse. My makeup and chiffon top looked so chic and fierce till just before I started writing this. Now my beautiful mint chiffon is clogged with Dior Show Blackout mascara and LancĂ´me liquid liner. Plus it's covered in accidental kisses. I blame my full lips and NARS matte deep red lipstick. What an incredible waste of luxury makeup. I feel like an incredible waste of luxury nothing..

I feel so helpless, Why did this search have to get even harder for me? Only 5% of adoptees search; I'm already fucking doing that! Isn't that hard enough?! I already had to start out with not having her! My best friends are horrible and selfish, and my family hates all of this, and they want it to end horribly for me! I am so angry, and so hurt, and so fucking upset!

I know almost no one can understand what I'm going through, But I wish I had someone to talk to about this. I wish someone just wanted to lay on the couch and in bed all day with me.

Monday, 27 August 2012

I Am Alone.

Hello Readers. I feel like in my personal life I'm alone in this search. It makes it that much harder. I think maybe that's why I'm in shock, because my subconscious knows I have no support for this. Thanks for being the only thing protecting me right now subconscious, even though it's really me doing it for myself.

People keep texting, calling, and messaging me and it helps, but it doesn't feel real. Honestly I think most of them just want the attention of everyone telling them what a good friend they are. I care a lot about people even strangers, Far more than any of my friends seem to care about me. I always say I care too much even. That it's an easy situation for "friends" to take advantage of to always have someone to care about them no matter what. A very smart guy once told me that there's no such thing as caring too much, it's others that care to little. Which goes and in hand with my sociological belief that we no longer have emotional intimacy in the states. It's one of those sad, but true things.

The other night I was taking to a friend about this and he said something really crazy. "...A lot of those people find their own self worth in caring about you. Because you're worth caring for." Now as after school special as that sounded it's the best thing anyone has said so far.

People say all the wrong things, all the same I'm sorry things, or we eat and drink and never talk about what's going on with me. I'm not one for escapism; I like to face things and deal with them. When we don't talk about things, we're really just making them taboo and unsafe to talk about. If people feel unsafe to speak up, then they aren't getting the help and support they need. That helps no one.

A lot of things have been going on with my personal life. My Asian best friend is no longer my friend. He's done some horrible things. He refuses to believe that even though he's done those things I still love him and think he is a wonderful and good person. My very best friend of a tall giant and I are also no longer friends as in we haven't talked in a month. I contacted him a week ago about my search ending, but his lack of response showed he didn't care. With all of his mixed emotions about me our friendship was really complicated. My ex and I are no longer anything? I don't know. He says he doesn't have the motivation to try and fix things. He says he's too afraid to work on his problems. He'd rather just hang out and be kind of friends, but I don't bend that way. All of them would rather be alone and only have friends that they're not close to at all, than to let anyone be close to them.

Me and my sister have barely said two words in months because the way she treats people is horrible. She only talks to you when she's terribly bored and says nothing when her now husband says vicious things about you and your life. The guy made jokes about how much my adoptive mom hates me when he met my friends at dinner.

Moving on to the rest of the family, my adoptive dad thinks this is all a load. He shouted at me that both of his parents were dead, that his bother is dead, and that it's only him and his sister now. He said he isn't sitting around moping about it, and that I really don't have a right too over my birth mother being a rape victim. He also hasn't said anything about my search being closed.

My adoptive mom keeps saying things like "that's life" and "well you'll have to just keep trying if you really want answers". I think she is being so blah about this and telling me to just do it because she wants this to end horribly for me. I think she wants me to be crushed by this so she can say she's the better mother. I honestly think that's what she wants to come from this.

So let's say that I am worth caring for. What does that even mean? And where the hell are my best friends going? I feel like any type of relationship is hard when you are the one who is always there for them. It's exhausting. But now I'm wondering if it's that exhausting for the other person who appears to care much less. I think that kind of guilt could be extremely exhausting as well. It's understandable, but not owning up to it is selfish and childish.

All the texts, calls, messages, meals, and drinks are wonderful and they do help. But I'd rather just sit on a friend's couch watching tv and randomly saying whatever comes to mind knowing its ok to share how I feel about this. What makes it ok for me to share is when someone tells me they really do care and really does show it. I kind of just need a hug and to cry, but I can't because no one makes me feel like that's safe to do with them.

All you need to say to a person is, "I care about you". I honestly might cry if someone genuinely told me that to my face, because something that special and real has never been said to me before.

Foster Mother, My Second Mother.

Hello Readers. Children's Home just emailed again. She asked how I was doing. My first thought was is there a professional way of saying "I feel like absolute horrible shit"? The answer would be no, so I told her I was alright. I told her I was in shock so I didn't feel the gravity of it all yet. That seems like fair answer right?

She also informed me she has sent in a request to Korea asking for an update on the search for my foster mother. Now I never thought about searching for my foster mother until Kabin asked me about it and told me about her experience meeting foster mothers in Korea. She said they can have cared for 30 babies over their time as a foster mother and remember each one. Kabin pointed out to me that your foster mother took care of you during your first months of life.

I consider my foster mother to be my second mother. She took me in when my whole world fell apart and my birth mother was gone. I also have a foster father and brother; The Lee family. Lee may be one of the top five last names in Korea, but my last name is their's. She named my Kang Sun Lee; Their family name.

My search continues to find my second mother through Children's Home and Eastern Child Welfare Society. If my birth mother is my sun at dawn and moon at night, then my second mother is the clouds and stars. I would like to have her in my life. In some cases the foster mother and birth mother know each other, or met at one time. Maybe there is insight she'd be willing to share with me when she sees how home sick I am.

As far as the search for my birth mother goes it is far from over. I am taking this to KBS. I am taking this search to the Korean media. I will get answers and I will find the home I have been missing my whole life. I love her so much, and nothing can stop me from trying not even doing this alone.

What do I mean by alone? Well that answer calls for another blog.

Friday, 24 August 2012

Still In Shock.

Hello Readers. I'm still living life like a normal person. Other than I don't eat or sleep at all. I don't feel my body's alarms going off at all. I never feel hungry even when I've only had a cup of tea or water in 13 hours. I don't feel tired even though I can barely get down 4 hours of sleep at a time.

I've just been hanging out with friends, drinking, hiking, playing soccer, getting work done, and getting my own art done. I can do these things because none of this feels real.

My birth search is closed. My birth search is closed. My birth search is closed.

I can't say it out loud because even the thought of it doesn't seem real. I can't believe I'm still in shock of this; I can't believe how much I don't feel this. It's like my mind has been over dosing on antidepressants for days. Unless my adoptive mom is slipping tasteless medication into both of my Camelbaks I have no idea how I'd be getting pills.

I've met a lot of people with cancer and a lot of people who've lost someone over seas because of my aunt who passed of breast cancer and my cousin who was a Ranger. For some people when they're diagnosed or told their son has given his life for his country they break down from the news, but then don't cry for days.

They were in shock, and that's what I feel right now. I got the news, started convulsing on my bed in tears for a half hour, and blasting "I Wonder" by Gowe on repeat. Then in a matter of a minute I calmed down, got up, and curled my hair. I went to Ikea, and I kept going like I was alright. I kept living forward like I hadn't just gotten the most devastating news of my life.

Before starting this search I put a lot of thought into it. Was I ready? Where ever the possible answers both extremely good and incredibly bad? Can I handle those answers? I decided that I could. The top three things that I knew could really crush me was my search being closed, second someone being located and denying contact, and the worst my birth mother already being dead.

I always imagined getting this news, Children's Home closing my birth search. I'd wonder what would I do? How would I survive it and keep going? I never thought I'd react like this. I thought I'd be in bed for days and constantly crying. I thought I'd feeling like dying, every part of me aching from the pain of the search getting that much harder.

I never thought I'd react by going into shock, but here I am. Here feeling nothing.

Thursday, 23 August 2012

Avoidance Or Am I Still Dazed?

*More context! Sorry I'm not posting blogs as I write and poorly edit them. I know it makes reading them a little confusing. Things have felt pretty numb lately. I'm depressed in a really compressing my emotions kind of way. I wish I could lAndalusia the bad I know I'm feeling out and share it with you, but I just can't right now. I can't even share it with myself. I wrote this at *5:30AM.

Hello Readers. I'm still avoiding everything. I haven't talked to anyone about it yet. A friend tried to talk to me about it last night, but I glazed over him. He is the only close friend who's really reached out about this. I was actually really surprised he did reach out to me. The most unlikely people have been so truly caring about this. You're both really wonderful, Thank you.

Random, but I wonder why the hell do I add some of the guys I see to Facebook? I post these blogs on there! I mean I like it all to be out there for even strangers, but who just leaves links like these laying around for a sweet innocent guy to click on?

Another friend is staying over tonight at my place tonight. We just drank, watched a couple of movies, and reviewed fashion. By drank I mean tequila shots, by watch movies I mean we talked through both of them, and by reviewed fashion I mean look through magazines. It was a fun evening. I woke up around 4AM and was fucking around Facebook, until I decided to try and write something. Sorry that I'm basically writing about nothing. I don't have much in the way or over wheeling emotions right now.

Now I have an appointment tomorrow with my therapist, because you really can't do a birth search without some professional clarity. Between dating and friends I have a million things to talk to her about already. How am I going to get this little nugget in? Just as I walk out the door, "Oh and my birth search is now closed, and I'm avoiding it. Later!" then bolt out? It's such an unhealthy plan that I might just have to do for it.

I really do need to talk about this. The thing I've been dreaming about since I was a little girl; The thing I thought could only ever be a dream is over. It's closed. I can reopen it and try again in a few years, but waiting that long seems crazy. My search is closed. I can't even say it out loud in an honest way.

I haven't been listening to sad music either. Not last night through the AMs, not at all today, and not tonight. I was actually dancing around to "Trouble Maker" by Weezer this morning with my date. I should probably hit up my pillow. Other than earlier tonight I haven't slept since the other night when my body forced shut down and I blacked out from exhaustion.

*So in the end I didn't get any sleep. I just payed there a read some Robert Frost. I got my appointment wrong with my therapist tree times before I got it right. I'm just in a fog over the details right now. I talked about my search being closed with her. She thinks I'm still in shock, and I agree. She almost cried hearing the details of the search being closed and how things have been the last few days. Although being in shock it feels absolutely effortless. I just want to feel what's really going on in my heart.

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

I'm Avoiding My Avoidance.

*Let me give you some context so we can disregard the time stamps, and get accurate timing. I finished my last blog around 11 today. I wrote this blog at 3. Then I showered, got all dressed to go shopping, and prompting blacked out next to my bed. So I have slept, I napped till just past 7.

Hello Readers. Whoa that last post was some pretty heavy stuff. I finished writing it hours ago, and still haven't posted yet. I'm not sure why, it's not that I don't believe it. I just haven't let it sink in as my reality yet.

I'm keeping busy; I actually feel pretty normal. A half hour after I got the call I calmed down. I got up, curled my hair, had some tea and toast, and then went to Ikea. I picked up half of my new furniture. I still need to make another trip there and a couple other places.

A little after 1AM a friend showed up at my door to take me out of my bed and into Hmong Town. We had a few drinks, times a lot. It's awesome when friends you don't know well does something really extra special and awesome for you. It's how friendships grow stronger.

Through all these distractions I've only told a few people what's up. Actually I told them in the vaguest way possible, straight up facts. I can't believed I made it through a trip to Ikea and the AMs in Hmong Town without breaking down.

I haven't slept since 2pm yesterday when I woke up, not even a nap, not even when I was drunk or after. I feel awake, even though my body and eyes are completely exhausted. I guess all I'm really doing right now is talking about nothing. I'm avoiding this while talking about how I'm avoiding this.

I'm sorry I'm too numb to get my game face on and talk about my next steps now that my search is over. But trust me, I am not done yet. I haven't given up on anything. I do have a plan to find her, I'm just trying not to feel overwhelmed by this right now.

Sometimes we need a couple days until we can allow ourselves to feel every brick that's crashed down after the tumble. I just need a few days to feel numb and be in shock. I can barely read this, I can barely type, and when editing this I noticed I had skipped a lot of words. Time for bed.

My Birth Search Is Over.

Hello Readers. Yesterday was a really truly deeply bad day. I feel sick and weak just thinking about it all. I have a lot more to say and share, but first I want to explain what happened. I will post a second blog on my next moves.

I got an email from Christine at Children's Home asking for a confirmed number they could call me on. She said they had gotten a response from Korea on the search for my birth mother. It was just after 4:15 when I saw the email. I quickly shot off my number, but I didn't think I'd get a call till tomorrow since their offices close at 5. I posted on Facebook about the email and being terrified. Just after I pressed "post" my cell phone went off..

My heart skipped 5 beats, the whole world stood still, and my wrists went weak. I was completely stunned. It felt like I let my phone ring for hours, but it was only a few times. I picked up and squeaked out a hello, I have no idea how I lost my voice in the moment. The conversation felt like this:

Christine asked me how I was doing and I said, "pretty good". I wanted to tell her I was terrified, that I burst into tears when I read her message. That typing back an email was challenge because my whole body had been shaking and convulsing along with my tears. She started talking about getting regular contact from Korea, and that they had received new information on my birth search.

She said she was very sorry to inform me it was only bad news.

The police had giving my Korean social worker what my mother had down for an address. The building ended up being a bank. They called and asked if she worked, or had worked there, or if anyone knew her. "No." Christine told me there are no other addresses, phone numbers, or insurance under her name at this time. I kept sputtering out phrases as she told me these things, but honestly I have no idea what I was even saying to her.

Christine then informed me I could try to search again in another two or three years. I'm not sure what I said, but I must have conveyed my confusion. She responded to me with "I'm sorry, but there is nothing else they can do regarding you're search at this time." But to please call and contact them with any questions or for other post adoption services.

This hit me like a ton of bricks; I understood. They had hit a final dead end. My search has been completed, it's over now. I thought I had a few more months till this, but.. It's done.

I really wish I had a hug right now.

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

Artists Are Supposed To Be Tortured.

Hello Readers. Looking back on the night when I had to call an ambulance for one of my dearest friends, I think I am right.. Sometimes when you're born with a broken heart, no amount of time or change can heal that. I wonder if it's more than that for me though. Could there be other contributing factors to my unhappiness? Whenever someone tells me I'm sad or depressing, Whenever an art friend speaks of being depressed I always say, "Artists are supposed to be tortured". Sometimes we giggle, sometimes we keep talking, But either way it sinks in deep because it feels true. Are we artistic because of the darkness in our lives, or our lives dark because we process and express things artisticly?

A psychic once told me my passed over birth mother told him my love of art, creativity, and drama was from my birth father. Even if that is true art is still a huge means of my self expression and how I process life. It's extremely challenging most of the time to make art when I'm happy. It's when I'm depressed, wrecked, heart broken, aching, disturbed, angry, and hurt when I feel the need to work. It's when I create my best work.

Of course this is not to say I never draw or create when I'm happy. It's just much harder to share that kind of light vs sharing darkness. I think it's harder because when a person looks at a piece they are judging and critiquing your happiness. When they harshly rip apart your depressed work, well you're already angry and depressed as fuck! They're only fulling it, so fuck them! Mostly why it's hard to create when you're happy is because you just want to live in it. You don't know how long that warm light will last and that's scary. Documenting it with a sketch or in a big piece feels dangerous like a jinx. When that warmth is gone it's like your work is mocking you. It's telling you you're foolish as fuck over and over again.

So when the subject of pain and depression is brought up sometimes I'd like to think of it as I'm just supposed to be this way. All this negative adoption stuff, All of the foolish short lived happiness I'm foolish enough to give into, All of my friends being depressed/hurt/dark/and suicidal, And all of us emotional masochists being some sort of artists.. It just feels like a sick dark fate that everything in my life connects this way.

But then.. As strongly as I feel the Korean red string of fate sometimes, I don't really believe in fate or destiny. So I'm left with nothing.

I have no answers for this, Just feelings.

What About YouTube?

Hello Readers! I know I have promised time an again, so like twice, To start filming and putting up adoption/Asian based videos. My laptop had horrible mic, then it broke, my iPad has horrible image, my Nikon has amazing image and ok mic, but I have nothing to edit it on. This took me to buying a bunch of apps for "video editing" and they are absolutely horrible!

These are all lame excuses, and I'm really sorry for all the delays, but I am working really hard to fix all of this! For one I am finally getting my laptop fixed! I'm also writing scripts for a few videos and outlines for things that I know I want to talk about right off the bat. Plus I'm doing test shots of what I want to film so soo how it looks/sounds/comes across in general on screen!

I really want to do these videos for you guys. I really think YouTube is the way to go as far as getting out the word that our thoughts and feelings of being adopted and being Asian are all sound. I love going this very personal blogs, But it's hard to reach everyone on a regular web page.

I aspire to help better connect the Asian-American and international adoptee communities! I'm really excited about all the things to come, and am learning as much about editing as I can.

I'm incredibly excited for what's going to happen this year; I'm also terrified! I have a feeling it's going to be extra horrible and bad. I have hope that it's not, but so far all hope has taught me is that it's foolish to have it.

Korean Culture Camp 2012.

Hello Readers. Like every year camp is full of awkward drama, ok Korean-ish food, good friends, and weird amounts of flirting! I loved the class I had this year, and my fellow aid David was great! I had some pretty kickin' teens too! Class 4-C baby!! Korean Culture Camp is wonderful, magical, I grew up with it, and I do love it.. But I think this might be my last year.

As an adoptee aid I have no say in anything at all. Camp is run by the Caucasian parents for the Caucasian parents. Everyday at assembly you could see the tension building between the 2 camp directors too. Camp feels like its falling apart.

"Teen Camp was a huge success!" said the parents, But unfortunately the teens told a very different story. They were always surrounded by parents, They never got real time to talk about anything real, And the only thing that they felt good about was packing meals for starving children.. Which actually had nothing to do with being Korean-American or adopted at all.

I tried all through the school year and all summer to contact the moms in charge, and they ignored my ridiculous amount of emails. I am really incredibly hurt and super pissed that they would keep out the one adoptee aid who still had hope in really helping these young adoptees.

I really wanted to be the self-esteem teacher so badly. I already talk with most of the teens about real things regarding adoption, being Korean-American, loving you're own sexual orientation, and just what its like to be a teen. I preach not religion, but total acceptance and tolerance of all kinds of people. Plus I've been going to KCC since kindergarten, and write and speak in the Asian-American and international adoptee communities. I even had a lesson plan for the entire week written out and everything planned.

The majority of our aids this summer were, you guessed it, Caucasian parents! This creates a very negative environment for the kids. They micromanage their own kid all day, and/or harshly control all of the kids. Even when a parent isn't like that at all, their presents in the classrooms makes all the kids feel insecure and awkward when talking about Korean things.

The reason why we had such a rush of parent aids vs adoptee aids is because most of the adoptee aids didn't come back this year. They all had the same excuses too, Many admit to really just giving up on camp changing hands, To our hands. Most of us feel like camp only got sicker with what Teen Camp ended up being.. The whitest and saddest culture camp ever.

I feel sick to not go to back to camp.. But I feel even sicker supporting an organization that does not support the kids and does not support the adoptee aids. The reason why the kids and teens love us so much isn't because we are all magically super cool. They love us because they can look up to us. They trust us to understand them, and to care about them because we went through and are still going through the same things. We make sure camp is a safe place for them and the sharing of their feelings.

I have and will forever stand up to any parent that tells me I am wrong to say to my campers I love them all regardless if they're gay, Regardless of their religion, Regardless if they don't believe in God, And regardless of how they feel on their adoption. For me to say otherwise would be me making camp an unsafe place for their feelings. To me Korean camp is about one magical week in summer. Where you are surrounded by campers, teens, and aids who are just like you. You are surrounded by the love and acceptance of faces just like yours. Korean camp is your home when you feel confused and homeless the entire rest of the year. It's the highlight of your summer, of your year, and the warmest safest shelter in a scary lonely tossing sea of emotions.

I can't say goodbye to Korean Culture Camp just yet.. Maybe I will do it next year.. But I am looking at other Korean camps to work at. I'm sorry, but KCC has just gotten so sick. Teen Camp is sick.