Undocumented Adoptees and the Fight to be Recognized as Americans

This article is part of Mochi’s fall 2024 issue on Resilience, redefined as “finding agency in adversity and fighting for radical change.” We highlight the strength of individuals and communities and their courage in dismantling systems of injustice. Our hope is that you will feel the strength pulsing through these stories and that you also are inspired to pair resilience with actions that lead to real, necessary, and revolutionary change.

Emily Warnecke, a senior Korean adoptee who came to America at 3 months old in 1964, hangs between dread and depression as she lives in the United States without citizenship. 

Grappling with a spinal disability that makes walking and sitting difficult, the 60-year-old former aerospace inspector battles every day to get the healthcare she critically needs. Repeatedly, she is denied Social Security and disability funds. She is forced to work past retirement age to cover her financial costs, and yet, under strict supervision from the U.S. government, she must first obtain a work permit — which usually arrives late. Although she had frequently lost jobs, the government had delayed her unemployment benefits; by the time they arrived, the adoptee had no money and had been evicted from her home. 

Warnecke suffers because her adoptive parents, military officers in WWII, had never naturalized her. She isn’t the only one. 

During the 1950-1990 international adoption spike, most parents assumed that their kids immediately received citizenship upon adoption. Korean War military families especially neglected naturalization for their Korean children because they believed the U.S. government and foreign adoption agencies would finalize the paperwork while they served abroad. However, as it was the parents’ responsibility, their carelessness left the adoption proceedings incomplete. 

Under the Child Citizenship Act (CCA), current transnational adoptees and those less than 18 years old during the effective date of February 2001 are granted automatic citizenship if U.S. citizens legally adopted them. However, the CCA wasn’t retroactive and excluded an older generation of adoptees born before 1983. 

Warnecke is one of an approximated 45,000 adult adoptees without citizenship, according to 2016 statistics from the Adoptee Rights Campaign. Among non-citizen Asian adoptees, Korean adoptees — who also represent the majority of transnational adoptees — make up the largest disenfranchised group. The Korean Health Ministry estimates that there are 18,603 undocumented Korean adoptees in the U.S.

Some adoptees didn’t even know that they lacked citizenship growing up. Today, more are learning about their status and the consequences of their parents’ negligence.  

Harsh Realities, Stolen Lives, and Deportation Limbos

Like Warnecke, undocumented adoptees face a harsh reality of unemployment, income instability, and limited medical services. Labeled as immigrants despite having U.S. citizen parents, these adoptees can be deported if they commit a crime or small violation. 

Dozens of adoptees have already been deported back to their birth country, including the prominent cases of Adam Crasper and Hyebin Schreiber. Typically cut off from their birth culture due to residing in the U.S. their entire lives, deported adoptees feel like foreigners in their countries of origin and struggle to integrate, especially when they may not speak the language. 

Warnecke herself underwent a deportation case when, in 1995, she was caught unknowingly driving a woman carrying drugs. However, with ambiguous adoption paperwork showing that she was not a Korean citizen, the South Korean consulate wouldn’t take her as a deportee. Neither an American nor Korean citizen, Warnecke became stateless while also chained in both places. “I am a woman with no country,” she resigned.

Judy Van Arsdale, a half-Taiwanese, half-white American adoptee from Taiwan, further confronts everyday hardships as a non-citizen convicted for minor crimes she committed long ago. During her incarceration, the police destroyed her driver’s license, green card, Social Security card, and other vital identification. Lacking physical copies of these documents prevents her from enrolling in Medicare. 

For convicted, now-rehabilitated adoptees without proper documentation, the adversities are endless. Van Arsdale, 66, blames the agony of parents’ failure to attain their child’s citizenship. “We are paying the extended punishment for our parent’s mistake after we paid the price of ourselves committing crimes,” she said.  

Van Arsdale, who had obtained a nursing degree, wanted to be a nurse but wasn’t accepted because of her restricted license and non-citizen status. Warnecke’s aspirations were similarly terminated. She revealed, “I did not plan for this in life. I had other plans to finish as an [aerospace] inspector.” 

Although these undocumented adoptees don’t have the official paperwork marking them as U.S. citizens, they are still U.S. citizens in every other way. In expressing her indignance at the injustice, Van Arsdale declared, “I challenge anybody, Social Security administration included, to prove that I am not Judy Van Arsdale. Give me my Medicare because I claim to be Judy Van Arsdale.” Undocumentation shouldn’t strip adoptees of their identity as Americans. 

 “Adoptees who were brought here as children should be treated as genuine children of American citizens, not as second-class citizens,” Van Arsdale voiced in frustration. “To force some children of American citizens to live as second-class citizens in the U.S., for some to be deported … it goes against the American principle.” 

Adoptees For Justice and Citizenship Activism

Adoptees are desperate for the right to citizenship. Enter the intercountry, adoptee-led organization Adoptees For Justice (A4J), which relentlessly strives to secure citizenship for all transnational adoptees, regardless of criminal background. (A4J is a member of the Alliance for Adoptee Citizenship, which is a coalition of organizations that have a mission to secure citizenship for all intercountry adoptees.)

Originally a project under the National Korean American Service & Consortium (NAKASEC), A4J was formed in 2018 following Adam Crasper’s deportation, specifically focusing on adoptee citizenship advocacy, education, and empowerment. A4J prioritizes the passage of the Adoptee Citizenship Act (ACA), which would allow citizenship to all adoptees legally adopted by U.S. citizens, no matter their current age. The legislation, recently reintroduced in Congress, would resolve the CCA loophole and hopefully bring deported adoptees back to the U.S. 

Rallying votes for the ACA, A4J holds “Lobby Days,” where the adoptee volunteers gather in Washington D.C. and pressure their Congressional leaders to pass the bill. Amanda Cho, A4J’s policy manager, and an Atlanta-based Korean adoptee, cited the accomplishment of 20 adoptees meeting with 53 offices during the group’s last Lobby Day in May.  

Unfortunately, the ACA tackles resistance from Republicans amid the anti-immigration political climate. Cho discussed getting Republican co-sponsors to sign the bill into law. “We like to say this isn’t just an immigration issue but a family issue,” she explained. Another A4J leader and Korean adoptee, Nick Greene, said the matter “is really about human rights and family, and what an American should be entitled to.” 

Adoptees who enter into an American family and are bestowed a new last name become a part of that family, its assets, and legally binding. Full integration should include citizenship, so adoptees without this basic right cause a disparity in the family. Adoptees being deported additionally tear them from their own families, unfairly throwing them into a place they don’t consider home. 

Aiding Adoptees One By One

Adoptee advocacy groups have tried to pass the ACA since 2015 but have met slow progress and a bureaucratic backlog. A4J, therefore, manages individual deportee-relief projects alongside ACA promotion, like collecting money for a computer or internet so deportees can visit their families in the U.S. via Zoom. Cho maintains that A4J has sent funds to about 12 deported adoptees and plans to provide more resources during Adoptee Awareness Month in November. 

A4J also coordinates a monthly check-in call for undocumented and deported adoptees. A licensed adoptee therapist is on this Zoom call. Sharing their experiences boosts the adoptees’ morale, providing some faith in their despair. 

Cho observed that “[The call] is very nice. You can see that [the adoptees] are like their own community; they take care of each other and encourage each other. They are all dealing with so many struggles in these countries that are not their home.”  

Since the adoption-sending country also bears responsibility for not communicating about the formal paperwork, A4J sends representatives abroad to raise awareness about undocumented adoptees. The organization collaborates with the South Korean government on adoptee aid. However, other international countries like Vietnam and Taiwan haven’t demonstrated the same cooperation. Domestically, A4J partners with the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, USCIS, and adoptee immigration attorneys to assist deported adoptees through the prosecutorial discretion application — a process that would get their deportation cases reopened by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement and their criminal files closed so that they can return to the United States. 

As for Warnecke and Van Arsdale, A4J is directing a campaign seeking California Governor Gavin Newsom to pardon the two for their past crimes. The pardon would pave the way for them to apply for citizenship and access better work opportunities, pensions, Medicare, and other civic privileges as U.S. citizens. 

It is one milestone towards restoring the life stolen from the undocumented adoptees. 

Passion and Sympathy For a Vital Cause    

Van Arsdale and Warnecke have joined A4J’s cause by telling their stories and earnestly backing the ACA. Warnecke disclosed, “It was very hard finding out I did not have naturalization; I went through a lot of depression. I went through a lot of trials and tribulations in my life. So I am just hoping that one day the ACA bill will pass for international adoptees.” 

Sheer passion and determination fuel the adoptee volunteers, who feel personally connected to the movement. Cho, involved with other adoptee associations, policy activism, and higher education, champions adoptees to convey their pain. “Growing up in Oklahoma as the only Asian American and sometimes the only person of color, I was asked a lot to speak out,” she reflected. “I think for us adoptees who are doing this work, we are the token person to speak out and represent those who are different.” 

Greene has been with A4J for only a few months, but he had met two Korean deportees in Seoul, where he had lived for a while. Witnessing their distress and displacement firsthand sparked his greater sympathy for undocumented adoptees. He remarked, “Seeing it from the ground level of how it affects people opens my eyes. It is a driving force which helps me a lot with what I do.” 

As a consultant for the pardoning campaign, Greene stated, “The mission we have is simple: the paperwork does not reflect what the adoptees are, which are American citizens. The work we do is a no-brainer. It is to right a wrong.” 

Despite A4J’s heroic efforts, there are always more curveballs to their goals. Many of the volunteers grow burnt out from the activism. Cho mentioned, “As adoptees, this is draining. Many of the adoptees had to step away for a while because it triggers a lot of stuff as adoptees too.” 

Still, the adoptees charge ahead, defiantly pushing against the oppressive system. 

“We just keep going,” said Cho. “It is a good cause. Someone’s gotta do it. [The ACA] needs to pass. It is way past time.” 

Warnecke vowed, “I know that this is a calling to keep fighting no matter if I get naturalized. I have been through so much that I can relate to all [undocumented adoptees]. So, I will never give up. I will continue to fight for the rights of people.” 

Success in the pardoning campaign and writing the ACA into law would uplift not just Van Arsdale or Warnecke but all adoptees without citizenship, Americans who deserve the same rights afforded to any other American. 

You can follow Adoptees For Justice on their website and on their instagram at @adoptees4justice. Learn more about Emily Warnecke and Judy Van Arsdale’s stories, and sign the pardoning petition here!

Cover: Gabriel / Unsplash