Home  

Overseas adoptees: “311 human rights abuse victims remain”… urge Truth and Reconciliation Commission to investigate

(Seoul = Yonhap News) Reporter Lee Yul-rip = People who were adopted overseas from Korea from the 1960s to the 1990s have called on the 2nd Truth and Reconciliation Commission (Truth and Reconciliation Commission) to further uncover the truth about human rights violations in the past overseas adoption process.

Overseas adoptees and domestic and international organizations that applied to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission for truth-finding held a press conference in front of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in Jung-gu, Seoul on the morning of the 10th and announced, "The Truth and Reconciliation Commission must convey the conclusion of its investigation into the remaining 311 people and whether the truth has been revealed within its term."

In addition, they argued that "when determining the truth, the lack of adoption documents and background information for the adoptee is itself evidence and a result of human rights violations," and that "the decision must be made by taking into consideration the special nature of the adoptee's human rights violations."

They added that all 367 adoptees who applied for truth-finding should be able to receive the results of the investigation and a response to the truth-finding inquiry, and that if a decision on human rights violations and truth-finding is not made before the conclusion of the 2nd Truth and Reconciliation Commission investigation, a 3rd Truth and Reconciliation Commission should be established to continue the investigation.

Min Young-chang, head of the Korean Adoptees' Solidarity, urged, "The Truth and Reconciliation Commission should actively approach the truth," and "If they cannot approach it on their own, they should request it from the National Assembly."

Trial begins for Miami-Dade nurse accused in adoptive daughter's death

Opening statements and testimony began Thursday in the trial of 56-year-old Gina Emmanuel, who's also accused of aggravated child abuse involving her two other adopted children

By Laura Rodriguez Published April 10, 2025 Updated on April 11, 2025 at 7:26 am

Log in or create a free profile to save articlesBOOKMARKER

0:00

Pause0:39 / 1:48

Supreme Court India: We can sympathize. We cannot accept it legally | Buying Infants Is Not Adoption Its Illegal

The Supreme Court has made it clear that buying babies and presenting them as adopted is illegal. It has commented that they should be treated humanely, but cannot be justified legally.

We cannot legitimize illegality with our special powers.

They took a two-day-old baby.. Where is the humanity in this?

Supreme Court comments on the illegal purchase of children in the name of adoption

The next hearing has been postponed to May 7.

Covered up police operation: Man charged with abuse of foster children

On Tuesday, the North Zealand Police were present for hours at an address in Helsingør, where an extensive search was carried out.

There were 7-8 civilian police cars parked outside a property, and uniformed officers were working inside the address, with a clear interest in the first floor of the property.

According to locals, the police arrived at the scene around 3 p.m., and had been present in large numbers since then.

The head of the North Zealand Police was unable to provide any information about the case on Tuesday evening, and it was therefore not immediately known what was behind the significant presence of law enforcement.

When publishing the 24-hour report at 11:17 a.m., the North Zealand Police did not provide any information about the operation.

The police were still present at the address at 10 p.m. on Tuesday evening, and must have been working at the address throughout the night.

A civilian patrol arrived late in the evening with pizzas for the crew at the address, while officers with flashlights could be seen searching the first floor of the house.

The illegal adoption business in Chile is not a story (only) of the dictatorship

Jocelyn Koch Aguilera and her mother, Jacquelin Aguilera Betanzo, sit at a small table in the café of the Museum of Memory and Human Rights in Santiago, the center dedicated to those who disappeared during Augusto Pinochet's dictatorship. The table is completely covered with legal documents, three folders of more than 500 pages with reports, statements, and court orders. Jocelyn and Jacquelin, like the women who took to the streets to protest during the military regime, are also searching for a disappeared person. But in this case, it has nothing to do with the dictatorship, the death flights, or the clandestine torture centers: the two women are searching for Kevin, Jocelyn's younger brother, whom they last saw in 2004, when he was given up for adoption.

For years, the two women have been denouncing the numerous irregularities that occurred during the boy's adoption. It all began in 2003, when Jaquelin, at a time of profound economic and personal hardship, requested to temporarily leave her two youngest children, Jocelyn and Kevin, who were 6 and 2 years old at the time, in a foster home while she looked for work and more stable housing. Jaquelin had been a victim of domestic violence for years and had just moved to Concepción from Santiago after her last partner began using drugs. "I couldn't support my children, so I temporarily left their care in the hands of the State, but I never thought this decision would involve adopting my son," the 61-year-old woman says today.

Jaquelin hoped the two children could be placed in the same home, but they were separated: the eldest, Jocelyn, was sent to the SOS in Lorenzo Arenas, while Kevin, just two years old, was entrusted to the Arrullo home, both in Concepción. “In Kevin's case, it was always different,” Jaquelin recalls. “Every time I went to see him, he cried desperately, saying he wanted to live with me again and that he didn't want to be in the home. The psychologist and social worker who followed our case constantly told me I wasn't capable of raising my son.” Things that didn't happen in the home where Jocelyn had been sent.

The Arrullo home was at the center of a major scandal in 2011—it was also investigated by an investigative commission of the Chamber of Deputies in 2013—after a report by a Chilean radio station revealed a series of child abuse cases occurring within the residence. As soon as Kevin entered the home, Jaquelin was included in an eight-month program in which a team consisting of a social worker and a psychologist would monitor her to try to help her and evaluate her abilities as a mother. The documents collected by Jaquelin and Jocelyn include records of visits to the home, which show that the woman visited her son regularly, at least once a week. Then, suddenly, Jaquelin says, one day in 2004, she went to the home and one of the workers informed her that the boy had been declared suitable for adoption and had been taken along with two other children in a white car. However, the mother maintains that she had not received any formal notification about the decision made by the Chilean courts.

From that moment on, she heard nothing more about her son; wherever she went, she was told they knew nothing, and the woman fell into a severe depression, from which she struggled to emerge. Although Kevin was given up for adoption because the Chilean government deemed her unfit to raise children, in 2010 her daughter Jocelyn left the home where she lived and was once again entrusted to her mother. "Why did the Chilean government take a son away from her, deeming her unfit to be a mother, when she was then deemed fit to raise me, just six years after Kevin was given up for adoption?" she asks. From the moment Jocelyn leaves home, she goes everywhere with her mother looking for her brother: the two women knock on every door, even going to the airport to try to find out if he was adopted by a foreign couple.

Danish stop to international adoption is a failure of children currently in orphanages

It is possible to acknowledge that transnational adoption occurs in a world marked by inequality, while at the same time insisting that it can be in the best interests of the child if it is done ethically. Denmark should reopen international adoption


The Danish government's decision to stop international adoption as of January 2024 is a fatal mistake that risks harming orphans who are now left to an uncertain future. Instead of putting the best interests of children at the center, the debate has been about criticizing the mistakes of the past, while today's orphans are overlooked.

Author Maja Lee Langvad , who herself is an adoptee and was recently interviewed by this newspaper in connection with her acceptance of the Montana Literary Prize, wants a permanent end to international adoption, which she believes is an extension of colonial structures. Langvad makes an important point about the price many adoptees have paid to become part of a new country and a new family. But recognizing structural injustice does not mean that international adoption is inherently wrong. Many adoptions have occurred out of genuine need – children who were abandoned, without care or the opportunity to stay in their family of origin – just as many adoptive parents do not act out of a colonial mindset, but out of a desire to give a child love and security. And for many like myself, adoption has been a path to life, opportunity and the support of a family.

Of course, adoptions must be ethically sound, and as an adoptee, I recognize the need for an impartial legal investigation of transnational adoptions to Denmark. Serious mistakes and cases of fraud must be avoided. But stopping transnational adoptions indefinitely fails the children who are currently in orphanages without the prospect of a stable family. My own adoption has been life-changing, and it is deeply concerning that Denmark is now closing its doors to children in the same situation.

International adoption has long been a political hot potato and divided the waters among adoptees. But why do we almost only hear about criticism and negative stories? There are over 20,000 adoptees in Denmark, and hardly everyone believes that adoption is fundamentally wrong or driven by evil intentions. 

MN adoptees respond to fraud reports in South Korean adoption programs

Investigations have revealed widespread fraud and abuse in South Korea’s international adoption program


Erin Huppert, who was adopted from South Korea as an infant, wasn’t much interested in learning more about her pre-adoption history. But the St. Paul resident is reconsidering that now.

“I have never had any interest in finding anything out about my biological family or trying to contact them in any way,” Huppert said. “I had always held the opinion that they made the decisions they needed to make at the time, and that my family was my American adopted family. And it really only has been in light of the stories over the last couple of months that I’m now reevaluating everything.”

Those stories are from an Associated Press investigation released last year looking into fraudulent adoption practices that facilitated the adoption of thousands of Korean children into families around the world in the years following the Korean War.

After a nearly three-year investigation, a South Korean commission in late March found that the government bears responsibility for facilitating a program with widespread fraud and abuse — enabled by private agencies — that violated children’s human rights.

Recognition of suffering, distance and adoption imminent

On April 3, Member of Parliament Michiel van Nispen submitted a motion on behalf of 8 parties that together have a majority in parliament to recognize the suffering of abandonment and adoption.

This is a historic moment because for the first time the highest body of our country, the House of Representatives, speaks out about the misery inflicted on mothers and children. ViZ thanks the submitters of this motion for this.

Next week is the vote in the 2nd chamber and about this. We are following this closely.

The text that Van Nispen reads here is in the motion below.

Motion by Member Van Nispen et al. on expressing recognition for the great loss, suffering and injustice of thousands of unmarried mothers and abandoned childrenDownload

[Planned Column] “Don’t Forget Who You Are” – My Life as an Overseas Adoptee

“Don’t Forget Who You Are” – My Life as an Intercountry Adoptee


Written by | Song Jong-geun (Overseas adoptee)

“Never forget who you are and where you come from.”

Just before I was sent to the orphanage, my grandfather left me with these words. They were short but profound. Those words became the only thread that held my identity together for the rest of my life.

I lost my father when I was three. My mother took care of me and my younger brother for a while, but eventually left us with my paternal grandfather. My mother later remarried and passed away soon after. My younger brother was adopted domestically, and unfortunately, he also passed away at a young age.

I had a relatively large amount of information about my family. Thanks to this, I was able to reconnect with my Korean family when I was eleven. Through letters and photos, I began to learn about my past little by little. I heard that both my parents were deaf, that I was a bit of a troublemaker, and that my grandfather wanted me to go to college. It must have been very difficult for my mother to raise her children alone in such a poor situation.

I am the eldest grandson, and my father and grandfather were both eldest grandsons.

However, there was a lot of manipulation in the adoption process. My family home was listed as 'Hanyang' on the adoption documents, but it was actually 'Jincheon'. The parent section was blank, but my parents' names were clearly on other documents. My resident registration number was also manipulated, but I was originally listed on the family register, and I know my real resident registration number because I inherited land from my grandfather.

The only thing that was true in the adoption papers was that the father was dead.

When I was in the orphanage, I didn't speak. I think my father's death was a big shock. I was bullied a lot, and I was pushed down the stairs and fell. Then one day, the orphanage told me to get in a white van. 'Why?' 'I don't want to get in.' I thought that, but before I knew it, I was on a plane, and my destination was the Netherlands.

When I arrived at the Dutch airport, unfamiliar faces that I had never seen before were waiting for me. Their appearance was scary and I did not want to go with them. I cried for hours at the airport and threw away the teddy bear they gave me as a gift. Most other adoptees were happy to see their new parents, but I was not.

Other adoptees have had similar experiences. One said that upon arrival, he ran to a pay phone and started dialing numbers to call his Korean mother. Another said that he held on to the railing of the airport stairs to keep himself from falling. We were all probably about the same age.

When I was five years old, I went to court. The judge asked me, “Do you want to continue living in the Netherlands?” It was probably a final confirmation of adoption. I thought to myself, “No… I don’t want to be here…,” but I reluctantly said, “Yes,” because I didn’t know what would happen.

Life after adoption was never easy. My adoptive parents were verbally and physically abusive to me. I was told, “You shouldn’t have been adopted,” “You ruined our lives,” and “I’m going to destroy you.” Racist comments were also common. I lost contact with them for years. I finally changed my last name in 2009.

Nevertheless, I thanked my adoptive parents. There were good times too. But they never once regretted or apologized. I already forgave them in my heart because I now understand why they did that. But if they sincerely apologized, I would sincerely forgive them.

In 2011, I first set foot on Korean soil again. From then on, I faced the Korean adoption system head-on.

I still do not trust the National Child Rights Commission (NCRC). This agency is violating the government's "Special Adoption Act." There is a regulation that requires the disclosure of birth family information when an adoptee has a genetic disease or the biological parents are dead, but the NCRC does not follow this. As in the case of Mathieu, Alice, and a Danish adoptee, they hide information even in life-threatening situations.

The disclosure rate is extremely low, and trust has long since been broken. After the MBC documentary in January, the NCRC announced that it would launch a criminal investigation into itself, but there is no sign of any real change.

The last Korean I remember was my grandfather's words.

“Don’t forget who you are.”

Those words still ring in my heart. And they will ring in the hearts of countless adoptees who, like me, are searching for their roots.

 


 

By Jonggeun Song (Korean Adoptee)

“Don’t forget who you are. Don’t forget where you came from.”

Just before I was sent to the orphanage, my grandfather said these words to me. They were brief, but they stayed with me all my life. That sentence became the only thread that kept my identity from unraveling.

My father passed away when I was three. My mother took care of my younger brother and me for a short while, but eventually entrusted us to our paternal grandfather. Later, she remarried and passed away not long after. My brother was adopted within Korea, but sadly, he also passed away at a young age.

Fortunately, I had quite a bit of information about my family, which made it easier to find them. Around the age of 11, I was able to reestablish contact with my Korean relatives. We exchanged letters and photos. Through them, I learned about my past. Both my parents were deaf. I had been a bit mischievous as a child. My grandfather had dreams of me going to university. But because of his poverty, and my mother's difficult situation as a single parent, raising me was not sustainable.

I am the eldest son. My father was also the eldest son, as was my grandfather. We carried that line.

But my adoption process was riddled with fraud. In my papers, my family origin (bon-gwan) was listed as “Hanyang” instead of the correct “Jincheon.” The names of my parents were left blank, even though they appeared on other pages of the adoption file. My social security number was falsified as well, but I knew my real one because I was registered in the original family register and even inherited land from my grandfather.

The only fact my adoption file got right was that my father had passed away.

At the orphanage, I didn't speak. Perhaps I was still in shock from the trauma of my father's death. I was bullied. I remember being pushed down the stairs. Then one day, without warning, they told me to get in a white van. I thought, “Why? I don’t want to go.” But before I realized what was happening, I was on a plane to the Netherlands.

When I arrived at the airport in the Netherlands, unfamiliar people with strange faces stood waiting for me. I felt scared. I didn't want to go with them. I stayed at the airport for hours, crying. I even threw away the teddy bear they brought for me. Other adoptees seemed happy to meet their new parents—but not me.

I've heard similar stories from fellow adoptees. One child, upon landing, ran to a payphone and started frantically dialing numbers—desperately trying to call his Korean mother. Another child held onto the stair railing and refused to let go. We were probably around the same age.

When I was five, I was taken to court. The judge asked me, “Do you want to stay in the Netherlands?” I suppose this was to confirm the adoption. I thought, “No. I don’t want to stay here.” But I didn't understand what was happening, so I hesitantly said “yes.”

Life after adoption was far from peaceful. My adoptive parents were abusive—both verbally and physically. They told me, “We should have never adopted you,” “You ruined our lives,” “I want to destroy you,” “I don’t care if you’re here.” They were also racist. For many years, I didn't speak to them. In 2009, I changed my last name.

Still, I expressed my gratitude to them for the good moments we shared. They never showed regret or said they were sorry. In my heart, I have forgiven them—because I've come to understand why they were the way they were. But if they ever say sorry, I will truly forgive them.

I returned to Korea in 2011. Since then, I've been confronting the truth about Korea's adoption system—and I no longer trust the Korea Central Adoption Resources (NCRC).

The NCRC is violating the very Special Adoption Law established by the Korean government. According to this law, if an adoptee has a genetic disease, or if a birth parent has passed away, the adoptee is entitled to receive information about their birth family. Yet in multiple cases—including Matthieu, Alice, and a Danish adoptee—NCRC refused to release the information.

The disclosure rate is extremely low. When NCRC withholds critical information even when lives are at stake, how can we trust them?

Following an MBC documentary that aired in January, NCRC announced on their website that they would initiate a "criminal investigation" into their own practices. But trust is not built by press releases.

The last Korean words I remember before being sent away were the ones my grandfather spoke to me:

“Don’t forget who you are.”

That voice still echoes within me. And I know it echoes within many other adoptees searching for their roots.

출처 : 대한매일신보(https://www.kmaeilsinbo.kr)

‘Baptism register entry alone won’t validate adoption’

Kochi: HC has emphasized that a mere entry as ‘adopted' in a baptism register or certificate does not confer the legal status of adoption, ruling that only a valid adoption made following the applicable Civil Law is recognized under Canon Law.

Justice A Badharudeen's ruling came while dismissing an appeal by Mary Joseph of Alappuzha and her adopted son John George, challenging a civil court order that declared the adoption invalid and denied John any legal rights to his deceased adoptive father's property.

Mary contended that she and her husband had adopted John from a Children's Home in 1989, with full inheritance rights as a biological child. However, after her husband's death, his siblings filed a suit claiming rights to the property.

Upon reviewing the adoption records, HC noted the district court, Kottayam, had only appointed Mary and her late husband as guardians of the minor boy and directed the Children's Home to hand over custody, without granting adoption.

HC, referring to Supreme Court precedents, reiterated that only an adoption compliant with Civil Law is recognized under Canon Law. HC further stated that to establish a valid adoption, there must be concrete evidence of the formal process, including the physical act of giving and receiving the child.