An Identity Shift
Ellen Yamamoto not only discovered she was adopted, her identity as a JA was shattered when she learned she was actually Korean American.
Ellen Yamamoto, 59, was rummaging through some old photographs when she came across a black and white photo of her sitting and smiling on her father’s lap. Faded and a bit yellowed now, she noticed the writing on the back of the photo didn’t seem quite right. The original wording had been altered by her mother.
Curious, she dug out her birth certificate from Shizuoka, Japan. Soon she discovered even more discrepancies, raising some serious questions about her birth.
In a search for answers she called up an old family friend and confronted her relatives. Sadly, her parents Francis and Nobu “Mari” Yamamoto had passed away years ago and could not answer her questions. But soon, without too much prying, the truth about her birth and her real family were laid before her eyes, a truth that had been kept secret by all of her relatives.
For the past 59 years, Ellen has lived her life as a Sansei mother of three boys. But now at the age of 60 she has discovered that she is adopted and not of Japanese ancestry but is Korean American.
“For 59 years I was Ellen Yamamoto. But now I discovered I’m not JA but 100 percent Korean,” she said. “Everyone knew I was adopted. I was the only one who didn’t know.”
For the past year, Ellen, a retired account executive living in Pasadena, Calif., has been trying to adjust to her new-found Korean American identity. It’s a task made even more difficult by an upbringing that engrained the Japanese culture into her.
“I speak Japanese fluently,” said Ellen, who was raised in both Japan and the United States.
“Everything in my house, everything is Japanese. Japanese culture is engrained in me.”
Now she’s trying to mesh the Japanese and Korean cultures as best as she can.
“I’ve been eating a lot of Korean food, buying Korean groceries, and watching Korean TV with subtitles,” she said with a chuckle. But “it’s almost like it’s too late” to learn a new culture, she noted sadly. “But I’m proud to be 100 percent Korean.”
The unraveling of a secret adoption
Francis was a MIS soldier stationed in Korea during World War II. It was here that he met Ellen’s adoptive mother, a full-blooded Korean whose real name was Bae Kuja. Eventually she would take on a JA identity and the name Nobu after adopting Ellen.
Although the adoption was a shock, Ellen soon learned that the woman she had been raised to think was her aunt, her adoptive mother’s younger sister, was her birth mother.
Halla Huhm (nee Bae Yoonja), had had a bitter divorce from Ellen’s birth father, spurred by accusations that he had committed adultery. A struggle over their only child ensued. Single and divorced, Ellen’s birth mother made the difficult decision to give Ellen to her sister and brother-in-law so she could have a better life in the U.S.
“She decided to give me a new life … so her daughter would have a better life,” said Ellen, who learned she was born in Seoul, South Korea and that her real name is Inae Kim. “I never knew I was her daughter.”
Ellen’s birth mother eventually remarried and moved to Hawaii where she went on to have a successful career as a Korean dance master. But she would have no more children. Ironically, In 1979 Halla made a visit to Southern California where she spent time with Ellen and her three boys, all the while assuming the role of Ellen’s aunt. It would be their last meeting.
In 1994, Ellen’s real mom died of breast cancer, never able to acknowledge Ellen as her daughter. Since both her adoptive and real mothers had had strained relations for several years since the late 70s, Ellen never visited her mom while she was sick nor did she attend her funeral.
As Ellen pondered time lost and feelings of regret, she held a weathered, black and white photo of her at the age of one with her real mother kneeling beside her, both smiling at the camera.
“I understand why they kept it from me. I understand about the adoption. But in 1994 I was almost 50. I should have been given the opportunity to ease her pain,” she said.
Her adoptive parents eventually had a natural child, Ellen’s younger brother Fred. Francis passed away of cancer in 1979 and Nobu died in 2003, both never revealing the secret of Ellen’s adoption.
Discovering her Korean roots
In September 2005 Ellen and her middle son David Ito made a trip to South Korea to not only meet her Korean relatives for the first time but to find her real father, a man who was still a mystery to her.
Although her Korean relatives admitted knowing about Ellen’s adoption, they did not remember much about her real father, even his first name. They had long ago lost touch with him and they claimed the family registry document of Ellen’s birth had been burned in a fire in 1949.
But what she did learn she pieced together from faded memories. If her father were alive today he would be 88-years-old. His last name was Kim and he had come from a prominent family in the city of Taegu where her paternal grandfather had built a school.
She also discovered that her real father had not wanted to give her up for adoption.
If Ellen’s father is still alive today, she wants to thank him. “If I look at it objectively, I was very, very fortunate,” she said noting she could have been given to her real dad’s family and stayed in Korea, a country impoverished by WWII. “I’m fortunate in that sense, real lucky.”
Ellen also learned that her Korean relatives were Japanese sympathizers during WWII, particularly a great-aunt on her maternal family’s side. This fact has not helped her in her search for her father. It seems no one wants to resurrect this part of the family history.
So Ellen has decided to stop searching for her father for now out of respect for her Korean relatives. But a distant cousin has offered his help, taking the lead and continuing the search for him.
“I’m done. I feel like I’ve come up against a wall. I feel suffocated … I can’t go beyond that wall to communicate with him,” said Ellen, who believes her Korean relatives may still be hiding some information about her father, suspicious of her motives. “Money is not what I want. I just want to know who my dad is.”
Adjusting to a new identity
On Ellen’s recent trip to South Korea she bought a Korean doll and placed it alongside the traditional Japanese doll in its glass case. Reflecting on her newfound identity, she feels a sense of relief in finally discovering her true ancestral roots.
“The pressure’s off,” said Ellen who now goes by the name Ellen Inae Yamamoto in recognition of her Korean ancestry. “There’s a sense of freedom” but “I regret that I don’t know about my culture.”
Growing up Ellen recalls her mother hinting they were part Korean “many times removed.” Ironically, Ellen admits she never felt like she was “a good Japanese,” a feeling reinforced by constant criticism from her adoptive mother. She admits to being “very outspoken and forthright,” characteristics not always cherished in the Japanese culture.
“I was always told I was a poor Japanese … now I know why,” she said.
She tries not to be bitter about her family’s long silence about her adoption. Although she forgives her adoptive father, she has feelings of resentment towards her adoptive mom, a woman she describes as “manipulative” and “mean” and with whom she had always had a difficult relationship.
“I don’t have feelings of bitterness towards my father,” said Ellen who described Francis as a generous and kind man. “I’m still dealing with a lot of anger towards my adoptive mother. My mom made up a lot of stories.”
Ellen’s three sons have been supportive during her recent ordeal. They too grew up with a JA identity but are now adjusting to being half Korean American. But for them, it’s all about being Asian American.
“It really doesn’t make much of a difference to me. I guess now I really am Asian (its kind of an eclectic term),” said Ellen’s son David.
“Being half Korean is difficult to classify and a bit too wordy to explain. To me, when I go to Japan they say ‘oh, you’re an “American” not Japanese’; when I am in the U.S. they say ‘you’re Japanese-Korean-American,’” he said. “There are just too many labels and qualifiers. Shouldn’t we just be human beings and treat each other as such?”
Ellen’s relatives here in the U.S. say nothing has changed and they still consider her a part of their family.
“It doesn’t make a difference. I love her anyway,” said Francis’ sister Miyo Senzaki, 86.
Although Francis had told Miyo about Ellen’s adoption long ago, he had sworn her to secrecy. But he never gave her any background information on Ellen’s adoption, including who her real family was.
“I felt really bad but I never questioned my brother. My brother loved Ellen so much,” she said. On Aug. 5 the Yamamoto family is holding a family reunion in Southern California. Although Ellen is still coming to terms with her family’s decision to keep her adoption a secret, she plans to attend.
“I’m trying to let it go. Keeping a grudge is not going to help me. I’m still the person on the outside that I always was,” she said.
“I’m more embarrassed. I tried so hard to be a part of the family. I was always on the outside of the family because they didn’t like my mom” but “I have no axe to grind with any of them.”
Ellen is planning another trip to South Korea in 2008. She also hopes to tell her story in a future book she has already begun to write.
“In my mind I have come to a closure.” Telling her story has been “therapeutic” and “cathartic” she said. “It helps me deal with this new identity."
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