Closer to Those that Came Before Me: Reflections from USKRG and the Ties Program's Truths Day Tour

By Kari Su Rudd

For Korean adoptees, returning to Korea can stir questions of identity, belonging, loss, and truth. From September 6 to September 13, 2026, USKRG and Ties Program returned to Korea for the 5th Annual Adoption Truth Day International Conference and Korean cultural activities meant to bring those experiences forward—to be heard, to seek accountability, and to stand together. For this highly personal essay series, we have asked some of our tour participants to reflect on what their experiences of returning to Korea with us have meant to them and how it has become a part of their ongoing journey — one that continues to uncover difficult truths, deepen ones understanding of what was lost, and shape what it means to reclaim our place as a Korean adoptee. 

Annual Truth Day Conference. A time to speak truth to power. A space to express our Korean Adoptee experience to South Korea and their governing bodies. A heavy lift to say the least. 

It was my first time attending the conference as a relatively new KAD, one that has recently come out of the FOG. I did not know what to expect and went into the week without any specific expectations. 

As most KAD explorations end up, I was surprised, devastated, elated, and educated throughout the week’s conference. This is heavy stuff. Revelations and stories that folks shared knocked me to the floor. Hell, my own story breaks my heart. 

Was there movement? Yes. Albeit glacial, the mark continues to move. After attending the Truth Day Conference, I stand in solidarity with the many activists and nonprofits that are fighting for our rights. Our basic human rights. 

The final day, we were given the privilege of staying at the Woljeongsa Buddhist Temple. I’ve been to a temple before. I’ve taken in the scents, sounds, sights, and rituals that my ancestors may have practiced. But this temple was a place set apart. Felt like a refuge. It was holy. 

Upon our arrival, we were given temple garments to wear. And shown to our stark and simple rooms. Sleeping mats on the heated floor. A bathroom and shower. A small table. Lights out at 9:00pm. That’s when I realized we weren’t in Seoul any longer. 

The scent of the eucalyptus trees. The chanting of the monks. The burning of the incense. The temple itself with its delicate hand painted structures. All of it…other worldly, yet grounded. 

But the temple offered more than that. It offered an opportunity to connect with my surroundings as well as my Korean ancestors. Walking the grounds in silence, with my hands clasped behind my back, I FELT Korean. Lest I forget. I AM Korean. 

Walking the grounds in silence, with my hands clasped behind my back, I FELT Korean. Lest I forget. I AM Korean. 

A few KADs bowed 108 times, while stringing a single pearl for each increasingly, excruciating full body bow. Even though they could barely walk the stairs the following day, it was reported by all that participated, this was the most meaningful souvenir. Perhaps one of the most cherished memories. 

The grounds were spectacular. Alongside the devoted monks, I felt closer to those that came before me. I could see myself here in another life. In an earlier generation of my birth family. The streams and bridges, the bells and chants, the rock altars and karins alongside the walking paths. The simple quiet. The pure peace. It does exist. At least for me on one such occasion. 

Here’s how I know. I have suffered from insomnia for 20 months now. The most sleep I get at any one time, is 3 hours tops. After visits to the doctor, multiple prescriptions, meditative exercises, I have simply surrendered to it. I can barely sleep. The evening slept in the temple gates; I was gifted with 7 hours of sleep. Absolutely unheard of for me. 

Indulging in historically Korean practices has drawn me closer not only to my ancestors, but to myself.  

Indulging in historically Korean practices has drawn me closer not only to my ancestors, but to myself. I am Korean. I am spiritual. I am steadfast and claiming my right to exist in Korean spaces. I was born into this culture and its heritage. It is my birthright.

To join the Buddhist Temple’s daily routines; chanting, bowing, eating, walking the grounds in silence. It brought this Korean adoptee a much-needed space to breathe.