'Sold like cargo': Korean adoptee in Norway fights to erase past she never chose

More than 50 years after adoption, Jung Kyung-sook plans to sue the Norwegian government for human rights violations

For most of her life, Jung Kyung-sook, 57, lived with an unrelenting ache — a longing for people who looked like her and for the mother tongue she never had the chance to learn.

Sent from Korea to Norway in 1970 at the age of two, she was among the tens of thousands of Korean children sent to Western countries through a flawed adoption system operating from the 1970s to '90s.

Jung was adopted by a Norwegian couple who, she says, subjected her to years of abuse and neglect.

Now living in the rural town of Ramnes, Norway, Jung is among the 56 Korean adoptees who have received the results of a sweeping investigation by Korea's Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). The findings, announced in March and sent to applicants in June, revealed significant irregularities in past overseas adoption processes.

"I waited almost three years for this result. I was so happy and relieved. It felt like a dream," Jung said in a recent video interview with The Korea Times.

According to the TRC report, Jung was born on March 27, 1968, and was registered for adoption through Holt International that December. Although the identities of her biological parents had been properly documented, she was falsely registered as an orphan and sent abroad.

"Despite existing records identifying the biological parents, the English-language orphan registry submitted to the receiving country stated that no such information was available, thereby infringing upon the applicant's right to know their identity," the report read.

The TRC's findings mark the first official acknowledgment by the Korean government of its wrongdoings in international adoptions.

However, Jung says it is only the beginning.

Based on the TRC's findings, she plans to file a lawsuit against the Norwegian government, arguing that her adoption violated basic protections that should have safeguarded her as a child. She is also considering taking similar legal action in Korea, depending on how the case unfolds in Norway.

"I was bought and sold like cargo," Jung said. "Receiving countries always knew children came with falsified papers; so did Norway. Western countries demanded children from Korea, and many Korean families paid the ultimate price. My family was one of them."

A photo from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) report on overseas adoptions released on March 26 shows Korean babies and children aboard a plane to Denmark in December 1984. Courtesy of TRC

Jung's childhood in Norway was marked by trauma, she said. Adopted as an infant who was malnourished and ill, she grew up in what she describes as a "mad house," where she was subjected to physical and emotional abuse.

"My adoptive parents always told me I was bought with their house mortgage. They said I ruined their lives."

Outside the home, Jung was an outcast.

"I have always longed for meeting my people, people who look like me, because I have experienced a lot of racism and teasing. It has been terrible," she said. "I’ve always felt like an outcast. I have one foot in Norway and one foot in Korea. I don’t know where I truly belong."

Her longing to return to her roots led her back to Korea for the first time in 1986, when she joined a homeland tour organized by Holt. Eventually, she met two of her three sisters and her uncle.

But her attempt to reconnect with her birth father was unsuccessful, as he had died years earlier.

“I have always searched for my dad in my heart, I felt he could have helped me start healing. But he was already gone," Jung said, noting that she later visited his grave in Anseong, Gyeonggi Province.

Jung Kyung-sook's passport photo from 1970, when she was sent for adoption to Norway / Courtesy of Jung Kyung-sook

Adding to her grief was the discovery that much of her adoption history had been fabricated. Holt had told her that her sisters were found by chance — that a man had walked the streets of Seoul showing a photo of her as a baby, which led to their reunion in 1986. But according to Jung, she later discovered that the agency had her uncle's contact information all along.

"I don’t trust what’s written in my adoption papers anymore," she said. "The paper says I was born in 1968, but my older sister said she clearly remembers that I was born in 1969."

Jung said her journey for justice is not only for herself but also for recognition of the pain endured by thousands of other Korean adoptees.

"We deserve answers and an official apology," she said. "We need support to return to our homeland, like free language classes and help obtaining IDs and restoring our civil rights. Everything was taken from us."

She said her ultimate goal is to have her adoption legally undone.

"I truly hope that one day my wish will be fulfilled, which is to have my adoption officially erased so I can remove my label of an adoptee."