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Introducing Soon-Yi Previn As controversies tumbled around her, the daughter of Mia Farrow and wife of Woody Allen stayed silent for decades. No more.

Once, she was seen as a victim, her youth and relative innocence taken advantage of by a powerful, much older man who sucked her into his vortex. Or, alternately, she was a Lolita, a seductress who wittingly betrayed the Mother Teresa–like figure who’d saved her from life in an orphanage. These days, Soon-Yi Previn is seen as an accomplice of sorts, who, in the wake of renewed accusations by Dylan Farrow that Dylan’s adoptive father, Woody Allen, sexually molested her, has stood by Allen even as his reputation has plummeted and his once-revered films have been reassessed in the light of the #MeToo movement. Throughout this time, Soon-Yi herself, the slim Korean-born woman with a curtain of dark hair who showed up occasionally at Allen’s side in grainy news images, has said virtually nothing, her sphinxlike presence adding to the mystery of what actually took place. He did what? She’s how old? And whose daughter?

There is a way in which Soon-Yi’s very opaqueness enabled people to project their own fantasies onto her as if onto a blank screen. And, as it turned out, the series of events that came upon the heels of the couple’s controversial romance quickly took on the aspect of a cosmic soap opera, in which gossip mutated into mythology and mere hunches about someone’s guilt or innocence calcified into die-hard convictions.

More than a quarter-century after the public learned of the affair that “broke every taboo,” in the words of child psychiatrist Paulina Kernberg, the 47-year-old Soon-Yi is ending her silence. She’s long believed that her relationship with Allen fueled the inquiry into the allegations surrounding Dylan, but only recently has she felt compelled to tell her own side of things, to talk about what drove her away from her adoptive mother, Mia Farrow — and toward the man who’s now been her husband for 20 years. “I was never interested in writing a Mommie Dearest, getting even with Mia — none of that,” Soon-Yi tells me quietly but firmly. “But what’s happened to Woody is so upsetting, so unjust. [Mia] has taken advantage of the #MeToo movement and paraded Dylan as a victim. And a whole new generation is hearing about it when they shouldn’t.”

Not for the first time will it occur to me how different Soon-Yi is from the person whom Farrow more than two decades ago described as slow, even dim — and who was dismissed as Allen’s brainwashed mouthpiece when she did speak up, in August 1992, in a statement to Newsweek: “I’m not a retarded little underage flower who was raped, molested, and spoiled by some evil stepfather — not by a long shot.” Over a series of conversations that began in May and continued intermittently through June and July, Soon-Yi, a voracious reader with a slightly quirky sense of humor, is articulate and self-aware. “Woody says I can make jokes but I don’t get them — I’m always looking deeper for the meanings,” she says.

We talk mostly in the couple’s six-story townhouse on one of the Upper East Side’s prettiest blocks, the same block where Allen shot scenes for Annie Hall 42 years ago. “I am a pariah,” he says one day when he joins us for lunch, wearing his usual outfit of a light-blue button-down and rumpled khakis. “People think that I was Soon-Yi’s father, that I raped and married my underaged, retarded daughter.” (As if to underscore his point, he mentions that his and Soon-Yi’s contribution to Hillary Clinton’s last campaign was unceremoniously returned.) Allen, an assiduously healthy eater as well as an unremitting hypochondriac, pokes at his food, while Soon-Yi is ever the attentive hostess, refilling my water glass as soon as it’s empty and offering me seconds of lasagna and salad before I’ve finished the last bite of my meal.

Unearthing the roots of adoption

Jennifer Jin Brower was born in South Korea, but until a few years ago, she had never used chopsticks or heard of kimchee.

Because she looks Asian, strangers ask, "Where are you from? Do you speak English?" But English is her mother tongue - her adoptive mother's tongue.

Ms. Brower, 29, was raised by a Caucasian family in Grand Rapids, Mich. As a child, she says, "I didn't think that I was Asian." But that didn't stop other children from mocking her features.

Ms. Brower, who now lives in Seattle, says she didn't feel confident in her identity until she spent two months in South Korea last year. "I finally felt proud to be Asian and Korean because I finally knew what that meant," she explains.

The generation of children adopted from Asia in the seventies and eighties - mostly from South Korea - has come of age. As adults, thousands are returning to their countries of origin to search for their birth parents, learn the language and reclaim the heritage they lost as infants.

How far are you willing to go for a child?

When everything else had been tried and failed, my wife said: Why don't we adopt? This was the beginning of a complicated process full of bureaucratic hurdles and years of waiting that continues to this day. The desire for a child became a never-ending story.

By Jochen-Martin Gutsch • 12.04.2024, 13:00 • from DER SPIEGEL 16/2024

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Abroad instead of children's homes: Czech children in adoptive families in foreign countries

Last year, 22 Czech children found a new home with a foreign adoptive family.

Roman Suda experienced one of the adoption stories. He is the director of the children's home in the West Bohemian town of Nepomuk. In the Czech Radio's domestic broadcasts, he tells the story of two siblings of preschool age. After nine months in the children's home, a new home was found for them in Italy. The foreign language was no obstacle.

 

"The children have an impressive ability to learn very quickly. They showed us that. After just a few weeks in the Czech Republic, they were able to understand Italian relatively well. An interpreter helped with that. She mediated between the two languages ​​at the beginning."

According to Zdeněk Kapitán, the story of the boy and the girl is a great success:

'Hurtful to adoptive families' vs. 'couldn't go ahead', mixed reactions to adoption freeze

The ban on adopting children from abroad is causing a lot of commotion among adopted children and adoptive parents. "I think it is a careless decision," says Sander Vlek, advisor at the National Association for Adoptive Families. "I miss the central focus on the interests of the child in this plan."

New adoption procedures are no longer possible since yesterday . Caretaker Minister Weerwind for Legal Protection decided to stop this immediately. Only people who already have an adoption procedure in progress are still eligible.

But adoption from abroad is a measure to protect children, says Vlek. "I miss the evidence that children in countries of origin have a realistic chance of finding a loving family."

At the same time, there are also organizations that applaud the adoption stop, such as International Child Development Initiatives. "The past has shown that abuses cannot be ruled out," says program manager Sarah de Vos of the children's advocacy organization.

Years of discussion

Questions at the adoption service Het Kleine Mirakel: 'How can the government cooperate with such a service?'

Lotte Debrauwer

There Complaints have been filed against the adoption service Het Kleine Mirakel, including due to negligence in medical examinations.

'What Het Kleine Mirakel had on paper about our daughter's health was completely different from what was ultimately diagnosed in our country. I would have liked to have known that in advance.' Sarah* and her husband Klaas* adopted a girl from Portugal last year. Because the file at Het Kleine Mirakel – medical documents that were present in Portugal – were missing, they filed a complaint at the beginning of this year.

Rare ratio

Sarah and Klaas are not the only ones. Nine families expressed their dissatisfaction with Het Kleine Mirakel, one of the three existing services for adoption abroad, with a complaint or report in the past year. The complaints concern the poor communication of the service, but also about incompleteness in the files of the children and the exertion of pressure on prospective adoptive parents. De Standaard already reported in October 2023 about the complaint of a couple who experienced emotional pressure to adopt a child from Hungary.

NAMUR | Trial of Julienne Mpemba, prosecuted for child trafficking: "I want to give my little girl back her story"

The trial of Julienne Mpemba continued this Friday with the civil parties before the criminal court of Namur. Parents and children who are devastated and still waiting for answers to their questions.


Stolen lives, broken families, changed destinies, voices that tremble and eyes that moisten, emotion is felt on the benches of the civil parties. This Friday, June 28, the trial of Julienne Mpemba continued before the criminal court of Namur. " I want to give my little girl back her story," says the mother of Lucie (not her real name), one of the adopted children. "She only knows the readable part of her story." Sitting next to her, the parents of Théa (not her real name) also echo the same sentiment: " Our daughter is between two identities. Our goal is for her to be able to rebuild herself, to know who she is, where she comes from." For the mother, anger is also taking over. " I am here today because I don't want any mother, any other family to go through this. I also remember the contempt of the Belgian and Congolese institutions that helped Julienne Mpemba. We knocked on every door and none of them ever opened. I would have liked to look her in the face, tell her that children are not interchangeable, that she has no respect for these children."

Since the beginning of the investigation, Julienne Mpemba has taken refuge in Congo and is still running the orphanage. "Today, it's too much. We've been in the process for 8 years just to get a judicial truth since we can't count on a minimum of frankness from her," adds Théa's father.

"Are we really going to send these children back to Congo?"

But the challenge of the trial for these torn and powerless families will be to know whether or not Julienne Mpemba will be found guilty or not. Apart from the civil claims, some lawyers are asking sometimes to recognize her guilt, sometimes to exonerate her. Because if the woman from Namur is indeed guilty, then adoption is no longer worth anything. And what future for these children who have built themselves in Belgium? " Are we going to send them back home? Where crime and violence reign? Are we going to send them back to poverty?" , intervenes the counsel for one of the families. They are uprooted, they no longer know the language. Their life, their school and their friends are here, in Belgium." And another lawyer who is a civil party adds: " I am asking that all the charges be established. For her, the children are merchandise."

The adoption paradox Even happy families cannot avoid the reality – my reality – that adoption is predicated on transacting the life of a child

A child of four or five sits colouring at a low table. Memory can be tricky: the image is dim and rather unstable. But I know that the child is me, and that she’s been caught showing off by her grandmother, who is looking after her. (Where are the parents? I don’t know.)

‘I’m going to show my mummy and daddy,’ says the little girl, about her picture.

‘They’re not your mummy and daddy,’ says the old woman on the sofa, witchily. ‘You have a real mummy and daddy somewhere else.’

The child I remember doesn’t show her face; she keeps on colouring. But words have magic powers. Real… somewhere else. This single sentence sucks the reality out of everything around her: the red carpet, the blue Formica tabletop, the buttoned upholstery of the sofa on which her grandmother sits watching her.

You could call it a life sentence, for this is the moment in which I learn that I am adopted.