Profound Strength in our Unity: Reflections from USKRG and the Ties Program's Truths Day Tour
By Dustin Smith
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.
On the morning of Monday, September 7th, we arrived early at the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), filled with a mix of nervous anticipation and quiet resolve. We were there to participate in a press conference organized by the U.S. Korean Rights Group (USKRG) and the Danish Korean Rights Group (DKRG)—a moment that felt both heavy and profoundly empowering.
Standing alongside fellow Korean adoptees and dedicated human rights activists to present our unified truths to the world was an awe-inspiring experience.
Standing alongside fellow Korean adoptees and dedicated human rights activists to present our unified truths to the world was an awe-inspiring experience. Back home in the United States, I had read extensively about the vital work of organizations like the TRC, KoRoot, DKRG, and USKRG. Yet, despite following their efforts from afar, the reality of their mission always felt a world away. To finally walk into those same rooms, shake their hands, and stand shoulder-to-shoulder in our shared pursuit of justice was a deeply moving experience I will never forget.
Later that day, a group of about ten adoptees—accompanied by Boon Young and a reporter—visited a local community center with the hope of obtaining our updated family registries (hojuk). None of us knew quite what to expect, and a persistent anxiety hung in the air over what we might discover—or fail to discover. As we waited, the atmosphere grew visibly tense. Once the staff realized we were a collective group seeking our updated records, their demeanor shifted into cold resistance. Bureaucracy quickly became an obstacle; one adoptee faced moving goalposts as staff demanded endless proof of identity, dismissing valid document after document.
When my turn came, the sole staff member assisting our group informed me that no active records existed in my name—only an expunged record dating back to 1991. Sensing something was amiss, Boon Young asked her to recheck the system. The staff member made a brief phone call and printed out several pages, yet she refused to let me view them, holding up only the expunged file. I had prepared myself for the possibility of finding conflicting dates of birth, altered names, or unknown biological relatives. I was not prepared to find a void.
It is deeply saddening to realize how difficult—and at times adversarial—it remains to access information that belongs to us... Being able to process these revelations together transformed yet another obstacle into a moment of shared solidarity and mutual support.
Watching each member of our group face similar institutional friction was heartbreaking. It is deeply saddening to realize how difficult—and at times adversarial—it remains to access information that belongs to us. Yet, amidst that grief, there was profound strength in our unity. Being able to process these revelations together transformed yet another obstacle into a moment of shared solidarity and mutual support.
This was my first time participating in an adoptee tour to our motherland. Though I entered this journey with no set expectations, I emerged from it with a renewed sense of purpose and connection. Meeting fellow adoptees, tireless advocates, and the TRC left an indelible mark on my heart. This experience was truly unforgettable, and I look forward to returning to the motherland for next year's conference.
