This book was very buzzy on my Twitter timeline last year, so I jumped on it when I saw it at the library. All You Can Ever Know is a moving memoir, and I'm thinking about picking up my own copy.

I am not an adoptee. I did grow up in Idaho, however, where I was the only Asian in my grade through elementary school and in middle school, we numbered enough I could count on my hands (a hapa girl, me, a Thai guy, and two Korean adoptees). One of the adoptees was a close friend of mine through high school, and I've always wondered if she was ever curious about her birth family, or ever felt a sense of loss. Our school is a moderate size (~1,000 students), but I recall some microaggressions, mostly from people simply not knowing any Asians but a handful (though honestly I felt stronger discrimination for being non-Mormon). Like child!Nicole, whenever I visit somewhere with an AsAm community like Seattle, I marvel at what it might've been like to see other faces like mine, to potentially have access to language classes etc. though I do have the tether of family we could visit.

It feels personal to me as well because I had an unplanned pregnancy at 21, and my then-BF's parents strongly pressured me to think about adoption as an option- I pictured the nightmare scenario of there only being so many Asian kids in my community and my parents wondering if their grandchild out there, somewhere. In the end, I chose to abort but it really made me realize that I don't think I personally could adopt out, especially if transracial adoptive parents haven't fully figured out how to approach their child's experiences. I know every story is different, but the anguish Nicole felt keeping her feelings to herself in an Oregon town really punched me in the gut.

Weaving in the story of her sister and the joy of building that connection is beautiful. I haven't read many adoption narratives, but this is a good one. ( )

I loved reading this book. It was sometimes very, very painful, it often caused me to think and ponder and wonder, and I learned much that I had not known, understood or even imagined. This is a book by a woman who was born in the US, whose natural parents were Korean, and who was given up for adoption by an American, caucasian couple in lived in a town in Oregon that was essentially all white. IMHO it is simply wonderful, and it's a memoir, not a novel. ( )

I thought the beginning of this book was quite weak--as Chung describes her childhood growing up as the adopted Korean child of white parents, living in a small Oregon town and attending a very white elementary school, she falls into the white equals blonde trap, which is exhausting. Did she actually live in a town filled with descendants of Scandinavian immigrants? Or is this her own memory focusing on one bully and ascribing his/her characteristics to everyone?

Once she gets past her childhood memories, her storytelling improves immensely and it gets interesting. Her fears and wariness, and then the realization about how deeply she wants to know who she came from--if not just for herself, but for her child. Of doctors appointments and not having answers, of another layer of worry on top of the standard first-pregnancy worries. And then the frustrations, of go-betweens and sealed records. Of finding that the story was not nearly as simple as what she (and her adoptive parents) had been told--but also finding that it was not exactly wrong. ( )

A touching memoir by a Korean woman who was given up for adoption in the US by her family. Nicole was born prematurely to parents whose marriage was in distress and decided they could not handle the financial strain of a premmie. Her white adoptive parents raised her lovingly in a small Oregon town, but never addressed her cultural needs, her isolation and the racist and cruel treatment she received, especially at school. No mentor, no counselor stepped forward to help and her parents were completely oblivious, possibly because Nicole was afraid of hurting them and perhaps could not even identify the source of her unhappiness. After she married and became pregnant, Nicole became aware of her options as an adoptee and took steps to reach out to her sister Cindy, who had been told that Nicole had died at birth. Their relationship, and Nicole's discovery of her birth mother's treatment of Cindy, is revelatory and beautifully told by an author whom the reader would enjoy hearing from again and again, to follow the family's path to healing and love.

Quote: "Was it something we did, as babies, as little children? Something we lacked that made us easier, possible, to part with? I've never met an adoptee who has blamed their birth parents for their decision - we're more likely to turn inward, looking for fault." ( )

As the mother of an adopted Korean girl, I immediately bought several copies of this title. It did not disappoint. I have wanted to see someone write a book like this for a long time. It is informative and moving. Words to describe the experience of Korean adoptions and adoptive reunions well have escaped me, and it was wonderful to read this book. Yes, adoption begins sunshine and roses, and yes, the simplified stories we tell young children are full of happiness. But the deep complexities of being another race in a white family -- and part of the white dominate culture are shared with clear and truthful writing in this book. The truth could not often be told in many situations that arise in the book, as in the lives of others in such mixed-race families. When the author is finally in the midst of other Asians at college, she finally was relieved to not be surrounded by white people who had no idea what to make of her. In elementary school, she was the only Korean and endured many ignorant comments and teasing. The teachers were apparently unaware. Kids wondered if she could see through her eyes, and more.

She wonders what it would be like to look at her face in the mirror and know you would always belong. She says, "I know my place in my adoptive family is secure. That is not the same thing as always feeling that I belong." Hard-hitting words for adoptive parents. The author says books focus on adopting infants but do not tell what it is like to be an older adoptee. When she was growing up, picture books and novels did not have Asian heroes or heroines; and in TV shows and movies they played minor and even unflattering roles. Hopefully, multicultural children's books and novels are more available now. TV seems to have improved in this area, although Crazy Rich Asians is the first movie in 25 years to have an all Asian cast in the USA.

The author states pretending her race does not matter is no longer a choice she can make. She often felt unseen in her white family.

This is not the story of a foreign adoption as you might think. However, families who have adopted children from Korea will benefit from understanding how the world looks to their children. Hopefully, adoption agencies have more resources for such adoptions than they had before. ( )