SYRACUSE - Sitting at a rectangular table in a small classroom at the Korean Church of Syracuse, Allie Leogrande practiced the pronunciation of the Korean words for “book,” “semester” and “newspaper.”
Alyssa Sunkin / The Citizen
Allie Leogrande, of Auburn, center, and Kasey Buecheler, of Syracuse, right, take turns reading aloud a Korean children's book, sounding out the Korean words while their friend and Korean language instructor Ji-Young Lee, of Fayetteville, left, leads them.
Allie Leogrande, of Auburn, center, and Kasey Buecheler, of Syracuse, right, take turns reading aloud a Korean children's book, sounding out the Korean words while their friend and Korean language instructor Ji-Young Lee, of Fayetteville, left, leads them.
Her fingers holding open a workbook on the table before her, she softly spoke the words written in Korean characters on the workbook page, then looked up at her Korean language instructor Kyungha Lee sitting at the head of the table for approval. Lee nodded her head and motioned for the next student to tackle the week's vocabulary words.
To fulfill her goal of becoming fluent in Korean, Allie, 17, of Auburn has been attending the church's Korean school Saturday mornings for the last two years.
Born in South Korea and adopted by Auburnians Cathy and Joe Leogrande in 1990, Allie, whose full name is Alexandra Jinn, has spent nearly her entire life as an American while, at every opportunity, exploring her Korean heritage through language, food, pop culture, history and current events, all culminating in a trip to the country in 2004.
“It's something I've always been interested in,” said Allie, who will take college courses at Ewah Women's University in South Korea this summer, “because being an adopted Korean in America, especially in Auburn, it's kind of hard to find diversity and I just felt like I needed to find out where I came from.”
Allie didn't just wake up one day and realize that she was Korean. From the moment Cathy and Joe adopted Allie and her brother Joey, they integrated elements of Korean culture into the daily family dynamics. It was important to them, they said, to raise Allie and Joey as Korean-Americans, in touch with the mores of their native country.
“You don't have to teach them about baseball and McDonald's,” said Cathy, professor, chairperson of the education department and director of graduate education at Le Moyne College. “It's in the culture. They are going to feel American. But they are not necessarily going to feel Korean. If you can bring in the Korean culture somehow, whether it is food, whether it's magazines, whatever it is, you are validating that this is part of who you are. Not that you are different, but that you are a blend. As a family we are a blend.”
Fusing American culture with that of the native country in adoptions is not an innovative idea. More and more adoptive families in the United States are committed to cementing the birth
culture into daily rituals in the hopes that children will grow up being not only comfortable, but also proud of their multi-national identity. It's not about being different; it's about being special.
But there was a time when adopted children were raised exclusively American. Fifty years ago the first wave of Korean children were being adopted by American families.
“They were told they were American, end of story,” said Katherine Monahan, chief of the Hague Intercountry Adoption Convention Implementation Unit at the United States Department of State.
Several studies conducted over the years have concluded that children from other countries who are raised solely as Americans are not always entirely comfortable with who they are, and feel that something is missing.
A couple of years ago Monahan attended a conference in Oregon at which a panel of adults who were adopted in the 1950s as well as teenage adoptees spoke about their experiences.
“Their parents told them they were American now, that they were our kids and a part of our family,” recalled Monahan. “They did what they thought was right. But these children always knew, there was something in the back of their minds, that they were different. They had a lot of feelings that something was missing, some kind of loss and grief.”
And then there were the new generation of adoptees who are learning about their birth heritage.
“Those children were comfortable with who they were,” she said. “They didn't have a sense of loss and grief because they were American but they also had that cool thing about being children with another culture and language. They didn't have that sense that there was something different about them; they had this sense that they were special.”
Preserving the native culture is so important to the development of an adopted child that the scripters of the Hague Convention on Protection of Children and Cooperation in Respect of Intercountry Adoption, a treaty that streamlines adoption practices nations around the world, has made it a responsibility of member states to ensure that adoptive parents “give due consideration to the child's upbringing and to his or her ethnic, religious and cultural background.”
The United States ratified the convention last month, becoming the 75th member nation, with implementation beginning April 1.
Rob and Jennifer Barker want their two adopted children to have a little piece of their birth country: Guatemala.
The Auburn couple has handmade, embroidered and beaded Guatemalan tapestries waiting to be tacked to the walls of their sons' playroom, which they hope to be entirely decorated in traditional Guatemalan decor.
Christian, 5, and Nathan, 15 months, may not remember living in the Central American country, but Jennifer and Rob are making sure they don't forget where they come from. Jennifer, the education supervisor at Cayuga County Correctional Facility in Moravia, is fluent in Spanish, studied in Spain and is knowledgeable on Central American culture. She is waiting for the chance to introduce Christian and Nathan to their native tongue.
Rob, a chef at Lasca's restaurant in Auburn, frequently constructs Central American cuisine, giving his boys a taste of the region from which they hail.
They travel to Mexico every year for a family vacation, they celebrate Guatemalan holidays and festivals, and do arts and crafts.
“We feel very strongly that we need to keep that culture alive and keep it going as a constant,” Jennifer said.
Rob added, “It is up to us to let them know where they came from and what it's all about.”
Earlier this month the Barkers celebrated Three Kings Day, a traditional Latin American holiday commemorating the Biblical story of the three kings who brought gifts to the newborn Christ. It is observed on Jan. 6, 12 days after Christmas and is the last day of the holiday season.
Following the Hispanic tradition, Jennifer hid gifts in Christian and Nathan's shoes while Rob baked a sweet bread and hid a baby-Jesus figurine in the middle for his sons to find.
Jennifer and Rob put the cake in front of Nathan. He clawed his way through the white cake topped with powdered sugar, cinnamon and chocolate shavings until he found the figurine. He pulled it out, placed it on the table to the right of him, dropped his head and sunk his teeth into the cake amid laughter from his parents.
Guatemala issued 4,728 adoptions to American families in 2007, placing in second just behind China, which sent 5,453 children to the other side of the world, according to statistics provided by the Department of State.
Families with Children from China is a national organization that provides a social and informational network for the growing number of Chinese-American families. More than 100 multicultural families are members of the central New York chapter of Families with Children from China, based out of Syracuse.
“I like to interact with families that look like ours and explore the Chinese culture as a way to celebrate our children's birth culture,” said Erica Wade-Loop, membership officer with the group, who adopted a girl from China five years ago and is waiting for China to send a referral for a second child. “It gives us a larger avenue and it is great to have a social network to help us deal with the issues that come up. They are American now, but they are also Chinese.”
That is why the organization holds celebrations in honor of Chinese holidays and festivals, from the Chinese New Year to the Kite Festival in mid-autumn. The group raises money to benefit children in Chinese orphanages. And when their children are old enough, they start attending the Central New York Chinese School in Manlius.
Ethnic institutions like the Central New York Chinese School and the school at the Korean Church of Syracuse were originally designed for second-generation Americans whose parents wanted the language maintained. But, as more and more adoptive parents raising their children with a multicultural awareness wanted classroom instruction, these schools grew to accommodate.
Established in 1999, the Central New York Chinese School began with only eight Chinese children wanting to learn Mandarin, said school principal Jiang Jiang. Now there are 150 students of which 60 are adopted Chinese children and their families. The school offers three classes in Mandarin for English-speaking families as well as electives in painting, dance, music, calligraphy, martial arts and Chinese chess.
“Adoptive families right now, parents realize their children should know where they come from and understand the cultural differences and learn things about China,” Jiang said. “And now that they realize, they are letting their children come to the Chinese school because we provide that service.”
Jason and Erin Williams of Auburn would one day like their Chinese son J.J. to be fluent in Mandarin.
But it's one step at a time for this couple; they departed from United States for China on Tuesday to have J.J. put into their arms, making the adoption official 13 months after it started.
Working with New Life Adoption Agency in Syracuse, the couple saw a picture of a Chinese boy named Jian Liang. That's when they knew, they said. That's when they knew Jian Liang was their son.
Jian Liang will legally be renamed Jason Jian Liang; his parents decided to keep is Chinese name so he will always know where he came from.
“I don't want him to come to America and all of a sudden forget about his heritage,” Jason said. “He was born in China and there is so much history there that he should know about, Tiananmen Square, the Great Wall of China.”
In fact, Jason and Erin made sure he wouldn't forget his Chinese heritage and how he came to be their son. Besides his name, cooking traditional Chinese foods for their weekly Chinese Night and attending New Life's Chinese New Year celebration next month, J.J. will come home to a Chinese-inspired bedroom.
On the wall just to the right of the doorway is a painting of China colored in red that Erin traced from a projector with the Chinese flag painted inside the northeast corner of the nation. Stamped into the painting are panda paw prints colored in black that travel from China, around the room, and end on the wall Jason's crib leans against, to the left of the doorway. Above the crib is a painting of the United States with stars and stripes with the last paw print stamped on New York, making visual the journey J.J. embarked on and the life he'll have in his adoptive country.
“Obviously he's going to know that he's adopted,” said Erin. “I think it's important to know where he came from and that there are people that cared for him in China.”
Staff writer Alyssa Sunkin can be reached at 253-5311 ext. 239 or alyssa.sunkin@lee.net
To fulfill her goal of becoming fluent in Korean, Allie, 17, of Auburn has been attending the church's Korean school Saturday mornings for the last two years.
Born in South Korea and adopted by Auburnians Cathy and Joe Leogrande in 1990, Allie, whose full name is Alexandra Jinn, has spent nearly her entire life as an American while, at every opportunity, exploring her Korean heritage through language, food, pop culture, history and current events, all culminating in a trip to the country in 2004.
“It's something I've always been interested in,” said Allie, who will take college courses at Ewah Women's University in South Korea this summer, “because being an adopted Korean in America, especially in Auburn, it's kind of hard to find diversity and I just felt like I needed to find out where I came from.”
Allie didn't just wake up one day and realize that she was Korean. From the moment Cathy and Joe adopted Allie and her brother Joey, they integrated elements of Korean culture into the daily family dynamics. It was important to them, they said, to raise Allie and Joey as Korean-Americans, in touch with the mores of their native country.
“You don't have to teach them about baseball and McDonald's,” said Cathy, professor, chairperson of the education department and director of graduate education at Le Moyne College. “It's in the culture. They are going to feel American. But they are not necessarily going to feel Korean. If you can bring in the Korean culture somehow, whether it is food, whether it's magazines, whatever it is, you are validating that this is part of who you are. Not that you are different, but that you are a blend. As a family we are a blend.”
Fusing American culture with that of the native country in adoptions is not an innovative idea. More and more adoptive families in the United States are committed to cementing the birth
culture into daily rituals in the hopes that children will grow up being not only comfortable, but also proud of their multi-national identity. It's not about being different; it's about being special.
But there was a time when adopted children were raised exclusively American. Fifty years ago the first wave of Korean children were being adopted by American families.
“They were told they were American, end of story,” said Katherine Monahan, chief of the Hague Intercountry Adoption Convention Implementation Unit at the United States Department of State.
Several studies conducted over the years have concluded that children from other countries who are raised solely as Americans are not always entirely comfortable with who they are, and feel that something is missing.
A couple of years ago Monahan attended a conference in Oregon at which a panel of adults who were adopted in the 1950s as well as teenage adoptees spoke about their experiences.
“Their parents told them they were American now, that they were our kids and a part of our family,” recalled Monahan. “They did what they thought was right. But these children always knew, there was something in the back of their minds, that they were different. They had a lot of feelings that something was missing, some kind of loss and grief.”
And then there were the new generation of adoptees who are learning about their birth heritage.
“Those children were comfortable with who they were,” she said. “They didn't have a sense of loss and grief because they were American but they also had that cool thing about being children with another culture and language. They didn't have that sense that there was something different about them; they had this sense that they were special.”
Preserving the native culture is so important to the development of an adopted child that the scripters of the Hague Convention on Protection of Children and Cooperation in Respect of Intercountry Adoption, a treaty that streamlines adoption practices nations around the world, has made it a responsibility of member states to ensure that adoptive parents “give due consideration to the child's upbringing and to his or her ethnic, religious and cultural background.”
The United States ratified the convention last month, becoming the 75th member nation, with implementation beginning April 1.
Rob and Jennifer Barker want their two adopted children to have a little piece of their birth country: Guatemala.
The Auburn couple has handmade, embroidered and beaded Guatemalan tapestries waiting to be tacked to the walls of their sons' playroom, which they hope to be entirely decorated in traditional Guatemalan decor.
Christian, 5, and Nathan, 15 months, may not remember living in the Central American country, but Jennifer and Rob are making sure they don't forget where they come from. Jennifer, the education supervisor at Cayuga County Correctional Facility in Moravia, is fluent in Spanish, studied in Spain and is knowledgeable on Central American culture. She is waiting for the chance to introduce Christian and Nathan to their native tongue.
Rob, a chef at Lasca's restaurant in Auburn, frequently constructs Central American cuisine, giving his boys a taste of the region from which they hail.
They travel to Mexico every year for a family vacation, they celebrate Guatemalan holidays and festivals, and do arts and crafts.
“We feel very strongly that we need to keep that culture alive and keep it going as a constant,” Jennifer said.
Rob added, “It is up to us to let them know where they came from and what it's all about.”
Earlier this month the Barkers celebrated Three Kings Day, a traditional Latin American holiday commemorating the Biblical story of the three kings who brought gifts to the newborn Christ. It is observed on Jan. 6, 12 days after Christmas and is the last day of the holiday season.
Following the Hispanic tradition, Jennifer hid gifts in Christian and Nathan's shoes while Rob baked a sweet bread and hid a baby-Jesus figurine in the middle for his sons to find.
Jennifer and Rob put the cake in front of Nathan. He clawed his way through the white cake topped with powdered sugar, cinnamon and chocolate shavings until he found the figurine. He pulled it out, placed it on the table to the right of him, dropped his head and sunk his teeth into the cake amid laughter from his parents.
Guatemala issued 4,728 adoptions to American families in 2007, placing in second just behind China, which sent 5,453 children to the other side of the world, according to statistics provided by the Department of State.
Families with Children from China is a national organization that provides a social and informational network for the growing number of Chinese-American families. More than 100 multicultural families are members of the central New York chapter of Families with Children from China, based out of Syracuse.
“I like to interact with families that look like ours and explore the Chinese culture as a way to celebrate our children's birth culture,” said Erica Wade-Loop, membership officer with the group, who adopted a girl from China five years ago and is waiting for China to send a referral for a second child. “It gives us a larger avenue and it is great to have a social network to help us deal with the issues that come up. They are American now, but they are also Chinese.”
That is why the organization holds celebrations in honor of Chinese holidays and festivals, from the Chinese New Year to the Kite Festival in mid-autumn. The group raises money to benefit children in Chinese orphanages. And when their children are old enough, they start attending the Central New York Chinese School in Manlius.
Ethnic institutions like the Central New York Chinese School and the school at the Korean Church of Syracuse were originally designed for second-generation Americans whose parents wanted the language maintained. But, as more and more adoptive parents raising their children with a multicultural awareness wanted classroom instruction, these schools grew to accommodate.
Established in 1999, the Central New York Chinese School began with only eight Chinese children wanting to learn Mandarin, said school principal Jiang Jiang. Now there are 150 students of which 60 are adopted Chinese children and their families. The school offers three classes in Mandarin for English-speaking families as well as electives in painting, dance, music, calligraphy, martial arts and Chinese chess.
“Adoptive families right now, parents realize their children should know where they come from and understand the cultural differences and learn things about China,” Jiang said. “And now that they realize, they are letting their children come to the Chinese school because we provide that service.”
Jason and Erin Williams of Auburn would one day like their Chinese son J.J. to be fluent in Mandarin.
But it's one step at a time for this couple; they departed from United States for China on Tuesday to have J.J. put into their arms, making the adoption official 13 months after it started.
Working with New Life Adoption Agency in Syracuse, the couple saw a picture of a Chinese boy named Jian Liang. That's when they knew, they said. That's when they knew Jian Liang was their son.
Jian Liang will legally be renamed Jason Jian Liang; his parents decided to keep is Chinese name so he will always know where he came from.
“I don't want him to come to America and all of a sudden forget about his heritage,” Jason said. “He was born in China and there is so much history there that he should know about, Tiananmen Square, the Great Wall of China.”
In fact, Jason and Erin made sure he wouldn't forget his Chinese heritage and how he came to be their son. Besides his name, cooking traditional Chinese foods for their weekly Chinese Night and attending New Life's Chinese New Year celebration next month, J.J. will come home to a Chinese-inspired bedroom.
On the wall just to the right of the doorway is a painting of China colored in red that Erin traced from a projector with the Chinese flag painted inside the northeast corner of the nation. Stamped into the painting are panda paw prints colored in black that travel from China, around the room, and end on the wall Jason's crib leans against, to the left of the doorway. Above the crib is a painting of the United States with stars and stripes with the last paw print stamped on New York, making visual the journey J.J. embarked on and the life he'll have in his adoptive country.
“Obviously he's going to know that he's adopted,” said Erin. “I think it's important to know where he came from and that there are people that cared for him in China.”
Staff writer Alyssa Sunkin can be reached at 253-5311 ext. 239 or alyssa.sunkin@lee.net
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