A beautiful and haunting memoir of kinship and culture rediscovered.
Jenny Heijun Wills was born in Korea and adopted as an infant into a white family in small-town Canada. In her late twenties, she reconnected with her first family and returned to Seoul where she spent four months getting to know other adoptees, as well as her Korean mother, father, siblings, and extended family. At the guesthouse for transnational adoptees where she lived, alliances were troubled by violence and fraught with the trauma of separation and of cultural illiteracy. Unsurprisingly, heartbreakingly, Wills found that her nascent relationships with her family were similarly fraught.
Ten years later, Wills sustains close ties with her Korean family. Her Korean parents and her younger sister attended her wedding in Montreal, and that same sister now lives in Canada. Remarkably, meeting Jenny caused her birth parents to reunite after having been estranged since her adoption. Little by little, Jenny Heijun Wills is learning and relearning her stories and those of her biological kin, piecing together a fragmented life into something resembling a whole.
Delving into gender, class, racial, and ethnic complexities, as well as into the complex relationships between Korean women—sisters, mothers and daughters, grandmothers and grandchildren, aunts and nieces—Older Sister. Not Necessarily Related. describes in visceral, lyrical prose the painful ripple effects that follow a child's removal from a family, and the rewards that can flow from both struggle and forgiveness.
There was a rawness and intimacy to this memoir that made it pleasurable and moving to read. Powerful reflections from a Korean transracial adoptee about race, reconnecting with one’s identity, and in some ways building one’s identity from the ground up. Jenny Heijun Wills writes with great honesty about her search for her first family and her process of returning to Seoul and herself. Generally, I found the memoir self-searching and emotionally resonant, with some nice yet subtle commentary about fighting racism – both internalized and otherwise.
The structure of this memoir was just alright for me. While at times the lack of linearity and cohesion enhanced its emotionality, at other times I wanted more groundedness from Wills’s perspective, like who is she as a person more holistically, or even expanding outward to her overall views on transracial adoption. Despite these qualms, I can see and appreciate why people enjoyed this book.
”Appah. Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see your face. On my lips. In the shape of my eyes. Down each tangled, curly strand of hair. Across the cheekbones that others covet. In our long jaws. Our arched eyebrows. Our cold, mean stares. The way our lips curl up in the corners. Our smirks. Freckles. Eyelashes. I fucking hate it all.”
Jenny Heijun Wills writes of her three families in Older Sister, Not Necessarily Related: Korean, Canadian, and Québécois, one a birth family, another an adoptive family, and a third a family through marriage. Wills tells a compelling story of her continuing navigation through her families: searching for her Korean family; navigating reunions and developing relationships with her Korean sisters, mother and father; and negotiating her ongoing relationship with her Canadian family. To her credit, Wills doesn’t romanticize her navigations and where her navigations led and discovered. It’s a disturbing and emotionally raw story, in which Wills opens herself, her worries, and her inner and outer conflicts to readers. But it’s also honest and direct story-telling, and I admire Will for her courage in telling this story and telling it so well.
Older Sister. Not Necessarily Related. by Jenny Heijun Wills is the final book I read as part of a buddy read series on transracial adoption. Characteristic of all the books we’ve read together, this was a stunning and heartbreaking book, an excellent conclusion to this hugely educational discussion series. Told in short diary-esque vignettes and letters, Wills paints the story of meeting her Korean family almost thirty years after her adoption by white parents and childhood in Canada. She explores her evolving relationship with her birth parents and siblings, and their relationships as well. Wills was the product of an affair between her mother and her married father and their relationship ended after her birth, but surprisingly her reaching out to reconnect with them leads to their reconciliation after as many years without contact. Unfortunately this isn't a wholly happy ending to the story, as she and her siblings worry over the power her father wields over her mother. Wills’ style is beautifully poetic, but her relationship to her family and Korea are complicated, often deeply painful, and colored by loss. She touches also on experiences of racism growing up, but her adoptive family are mostly absent from this narrative since it focuses on her Korean family and takes place in large part in Korea. Her relationships with her younger sister and mother are unique treasures, and she thoughtfully explores the beauties and difficulties of those connections. Weaving together pain and hope for eventual healing, this book was a special thing to read. I highly recommend the experience. Cw for rape, self harm, disordered eating
I wanted to love this book. Every third sentence was like a poem, and her emotions were so raw. I found it difficult to follow the events as nothing was linear in he telling, she would take you in one direction and without warning in the same breath you were years away. I understand this was purposely done as she explains at the 3/4 mark on her book but I found it difficult to become invested emotionally because of this.
wow this memoir was amazing. it discusses the authors experience being adopted by a white canadian family, her experience returning to korea as an adult to meet her biological family, and the impact it has on her life for the 10 years following her initial visit. it was so eye opening and educational for me because this is an experience that i have never and will never have.
in addition to the heartbreaking but touching story, i also connected to it on a deep level through her relationship with her sister. being an older sister myself i felt really emotional reading those parts of this book!
the writing was also so beautiful and poetic. this book is definitely being added to my favourites shelf and if you are a fan of memoirs in general, or specifically a fan of “on earth we’re briefly gorgeous” i definitely recommend this!
The author was adopted from Korea as a baby. In her 20s, she travels to Korea and meets her birth family. Complicated and sad and beautifully written exploration of her own experience, and the pain that can be experienced by internationally adopted children.
Older Sister. Not Necessarily Related is an excellent book about the experience of transracial adoption. Jenny Heijun Wills has written a beautiful and poetic memoir in short vignettes about her journey to find her birth family in South Korea after being raised by white parents in Canada. Older Sister basically starts with Jenny finding her birth family and their complicated life thereafter. There are some flashbacks to her childhood and the racism she experienced, but mostly it is about her Korean family and what kind of relationship they were able to build after the trauma of separation. What a remarkable story and definitely one of the most eminently readable memoirs I have read to date. Unfortunately, it is not easily accessible in the UK yet and I had to get it from across the pond. I am hoping that it will eventually be published here and you will get to read it!
“Every place that I witnessed for the first time was at once new and nostalgic.”
No other topic is as crucial as identity to writers from Asian diaspora, and Wills’ memoir explores hers to its most painful, true corners. She writes that Korea is simultaneously “new and nostalgic,” these paradoxes that make up the lives of first-generation immigrants. Maybe when you leave behind a country, you leave behind a part of yourself. And just like any other misplaced item, the thing you lost comes back to you — when you least expect it.
It’s hard to find the words to accurately capture this beautiful book. From the structure and form to the telling of the story itself, this book is poetic, artistic and I want to read it again from the beginning.
So poetic, vulnerable, and raw. A beautiful retelling of the strife and convoluted experience of transracial, international adoption. I loved this read - listened as an audiobook. Although intentional, the somewhat abrupt nature of the storytelling (mirroring the experiences of the narrative), made it a bit difficult to follow. I appreciate this was a stylistic storytelling choice and it did help me relate to the jarring experiences shared; unfortunately it just made the listen a bit challenging. I would definitely recommend this book!
Jenny Heijun Wills is a Korean adoptee who was raised in a white family in small-town Ontario. No exposure to Korean language and culture growing up; in an interview with Hazlitt, she says: “My parents adopted me in the assimilation era of transnational and transracial adoption where it was considered good adoptive parenting to try to erase racial and ethnic differences.” In her late-20s, she went to Seoul to find her birth family. She succeeded—and in a surprise twist (not a spoiler) her presence sparked a reunion between her Korean parents, who’d been separated since her birth. She met a younger half-sister she grew close to, aunts and uncles, grandparents. She learnt it was her paternal grandfather who’d wrenched her away for adoption; her mother hadn’t wanted to give her up. Both her bio and adoptive families were there to see her get married.
And right after the wedding, everything promptly blew up.
Wills shows how intergenerational trauma can linger in your bones, whether you meet your birth family or not. She vividly depicts the experience of living with other adoptees in Seoul—the kinship, the desperation...the violence. She dismantles the idea of neat adoption narratives; her reunion with her Korean family + her parents’ rekindled relationship is far from a happy ending, and she reckons with past and present trauma while trying to forge a future with her new husband. Older Sister. Not Necessarily Related. has earned a place on my must-keep shelf. It’s written in my favorite style: lyrical vignettes—evocative, emotive, imagistic—that slip back and forth in time. A fast read that lingers; restrained prose that packs a punch.
The final book in our three book transracial adoption buddy read, Jenny Heijun Wills’ Older Sister, Not Necessarily Related was spare, nuanced, multilayered, and profound in it’s revelations. The story of Wills’ reunification with her original family, and where that took her, in terms of the child she had been, the adult she was, and the person she is in the process of becoming, this book highlighted the pieces that can fall back into place with reunion, as well as those are shoved out of the way to make room, and those that can’t fit back into the puzzle at all. I was touched so many times, by what it is to be among those going back to Korea in the hopes of finding birth families, by what it is to find those who let you go or never knew you at all, and also what it is to reckon with the entire life you’ve lived to date when you suddenly know your self, but also by what it is to look unflinchingly your very human pain around attachment and abandonment as you build new love and tell hard truths and try to just hold space for everywhere and everything you suddenly are. I loved this book. I loved it’s form, I loved it’s openness, and I loved where it took us (it specifically took me to my bed quietly sobbing last night while I found my love for my children expanding beyond containment while I processed what Wills has accomplished in telling her own story in the way that she did). Another book you have to read, I can’t wait for you all to pick this one up.
Such a beautiful book. I loved the structure of it; the poetic nature of the short vignettes. Brilliant title. Winner of the 2019 Hilary Weston Writers' Trust Prize for Nonfiction. Although there are a growing number of memoirs about transracial adoptions, the author notes in a CBC interview that her story is unique "to be a reunited adoptee and to have sustained a relationship with your first family, despite cultural and linguistic differences". A faculty member at the University of Winnipeg, she has studied transracial adoption and Asian literature and teaches it, and this is her first book and telling of her story. Raised in Ontario, she makes multiple trips back to Korea, her country of birth, and her story of this reunification process with her birth parents is complex and multi-layered.
An incredible book. It's told in a series of fragments and vignettes that read like poems. Jenny Heijun Wills has studied transracial adoption and Asian literature and teaches it. But this was her first attempt to write about her story. She was adopted from Seoul and grew up in southern Ontario. She reunites with her birth family in Korea, and makes connections to her Korean culture, and struggles with her Canadian culture. At times, she is very angry about what happened to her, and that was hard for me to read. I had a lot of questions while I was reading this book, but that did not take away from my enjoyment. Jenny told a unique story while keeping many things privately.
The structure of this book is incredibly unique and worth noting. Very beautiful and powerful stuff.
A powerful memoir detailing one Korean-Canadian woman's journey back to her birth family and toward motherhood. This book, told in vignettes, is deeply personal and beautifully written. At times, this one felt a bit TOO personal, but I commend the author's courage and honesty in examining the relationships she has with both her birth and adoptive families. This memoir is unusual and very emotional.
an incredibly poignant, resonant, well-written memoir chronicling the author's experiences as a korean-born adoptee who was raised in small-town ontario and goes on a journey to connect with her biological family in korea - cried several times reading this, so good!!
also presented in an interesting style that flits between - at times non-linear - memories and imagined letters to relatives that made it an extra compelling/poetic read (but not too hard to follow) - highly recommend:)
incredible just incredible, the writing and lyricism was brilliant and the content was so intimate and touching and made me think and feel so deeply. genius work.
Other readers have rated this book so highly, I'm afraid I may be vilified for my opinion, or, as the writer comes from a visible minority, accused of being racist or not p.c. As mentioned, the author's style is quite lyrical, and I question if this is an conscious effort to make her writing sound more poetical, more like what we think of as an Asian style. I did find it a little too much, somewhat cloying, at times. Also, Wills' sensitivity meter to slights, disappointments, and insults seems to be set on high. Through this book she appears to blame all the unsatisfactory situations in her life on being ripped from her family and home country and being adopted in white Canada.
For example, the childhood barbs, which most of us have received, have been deeply internalized. I deplore the unpleasant "teasing" some children are so prone to, but if she hadn't been teased for being Asian, there would almost have certainly been another trait that would have been picked on. (My glasses were a target with those kind of kids.) I also am critical of the misanthropic undertones throughout the book, from believing men are targeting her for sex because her race makes her "exotic," while admitting that in "relationships with older men whom I knew wanted something from me," she "took what [she] could and rationalized with myself that I was in charge." (p. 70) Her father "postured wealth and power." (p. 66) As a young adult, she "had to convince herself that she was making the right decision . . . when a particular lover was almost, but not quite, good enough," (p 74). She tolerated the male acupuncturist for his "latent sexism" when he chided her for her "anovulatory cycles, at her age." (p. 186) (She was in her mid 30s.) First of all, I believe that would more be a case of ageism than sexism. And so forth, constant small jabs at the male populace.
This woman picked the top of her fingers raw until her mid thirties, and refused to eat because she liked the control that gave her, and reacted dramatically to events, such as drawing blood. "The little glass tubes [toasting] each other, tinkling songs that made spritely the panic they held . . . I couldn't stop myself from whimpering in languages other than English." (p. 188) The other adoptees staying at the same guesthouse in Korea drink too much because they are attempting to blunt their great pain and grief. Could is also be that when a group of young adults get together, they just tend to party? The descriptions of other life events sometime approach the histrionic.
A significant portion of Wills' book is comprised of letters ostensibly written to her older half-sister. These 'letters,' however, are a literary device and are never designed or intended to be sent to the sister. They provide a way for Wills to express her thoughts, and are full of confidences, reflections, and insights. In reality this close sisterly relationship is largely non-existent, as the two women cannot communicate in a meaningful or in-depth way because they speak two different languages and neither understands the other's, and don't often actually contact one another.
I am not adopted, nor am I brown-skinned living in a white culture, and I realize I cannot fully comprehend the experiences of people who are, although I am sympathetic to the challenges and heartaches each of these situations can present. In the case of Older Sister. Not Necessarily Related., however, I feel the author greatly romanticizes how things would be different, ie better, in her life had she not been taken away from her mother and homeland. I think the issue is larger than that. Granted, she missed out on experiencing her Korean culture, which is a significant loss. I just can't quite muster sympathy that "early on, [she] was programmed to speak English, the French, and to place my fork and knife side by side on my plate when I had finished eating," and disappeared into a life of cream-of-mushroom casseroles, Irish setters, and patent leather Sunday school shoes . . . buried under Back concertos, feathered bangs, and maple sugar candy." (p. 3) Her book reveals a great deal of her inner, and external, struggles, and I believe she would deal with similar emotional challenges and dysfunction regardless of where she was raised. At the very least, she was not required to endure an abusive step-father and occasional abandonment by her mother, as did her younger half-sister in Korea. Or divorce and abandonment by her father, as did her older half-sister. The author herself admits she feels broken, and I sincerely hope she can find the help and healing she requires.
I could not put this down! What a devastatingly honest yet hopeful recounting of identity and kinship. I will be calling my sister to tell her how much I love her, immediately!!
"I came to Canada with 5 months left on my passport, one toy in my hand, and one word in my mouth. They must have misheard me, because they tell me now that I was crying um-mama, unable or unwilling to let me believe I had something that wasn't vaguely recognizable to a Western listener. But I know I was calling out ummah. That early on, I was a Korean girl. They laughed at the noise I made because to them it meant nothing, to me it was all there ever was."~pg.124 • 🌿 Thoughts ~ I have been holding off writing a review for this book, hoping the words would come to me. After a few weeks they still haven't and I guess thats kind of the point. Older Sister Not Necessarily Related has left me speachless. While reading it I often had a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. Wills writing is beautiful and achingly honest as she so intimately shares about growing up as an transracial adoptee in a white family in a white town in Canada, and of going to Korea and meeting her biological family, trying to mend thoes complicated relationships over the years. This is a memoir with so much heart poured into it. Its about adoption, race, mothering, sisterhood, family, culture, coming of age, love and so much more. Anything I write will not do it justice. And I'm not an own voice reviewer on this one but I cant reccomend this memoir strongly enough! If it's not on your radar it really should be! • For more of my book content check out instagram.com/bookalong
This is a truly incredible book which has had such an impact on me 🧡
Through lyrical, raw and intimate vignettes, Jenny Heijun Wills records her reunion with her Korean family, during which time she lived in an adoptee guest house in Seoul, and their ongoing relationship. Told in a non-linear form which felt such a fitting way to tell of a life marked by disjoint, this is an unflinching excavation of the depths and complexities of adoption. In writing which is poetic, visceral and like a gut-punch in places, Wills lays bare some of the impacts of the traumatic early severance from family and culture on herself and some of her fellow guesthouse adoptees. She grapples with the realities of trying to build family from broken shards, and living with the lasting faultlines in these relationships. And as the pieces of her story are stitched together, she illustrates the complex mix of love, connection, anger and grief that have accompanied her reunion journey.
Meanwhile, we readers are asked to critically examine our own ideas about adoption - to interrogate the simplistic, cosy narratives we have been fed by various media since childhood, and ask who has created and benefitted from them. There are no simple answers within this masterclass in memoir-writing, this lyric on belonging, but you will leave changed by it, with much to reflect on.
Well... This is a tragic and beautiful text. I did weep, at several moments, including when the kind Korean waitress helps the author with a Korean meal. I really appreciate the author sharing her story with such care and vulnerability. There were brief, rare instances where the prose was overwrought or cliche, but this was an innovative structure and poetic approach to memoir. It was like each segment was a piece of cloth in a quilt that could have been put together in any number of ways. The cover design was absolutely lovely. I would definitely recommend this to my students, and everyone else. The story was so moving and the language was so gentle.
This was an amazing memoir - and I’m surprised to see how few ratings/reviews it has here on Goodreads - it won at least one prize in Canada and I’d have thought it would have been more popular.
I wonder - is it that it can be a difficult, challenging read? There were certainly lines here and there that I did find challenging.
In general, the book left me comparing and contrasting my own early days living in Seoul and feeling incredibly homesick for a country that captures part of my heart over the decade I lived there.
The challenging nature of language and branches of family touched me deeply, as did the moments with her own child at the end.
This feels pretty much like I had a peek into someone's diary - intimate but yet I'm left guessing a lot. Jenny writes such pretty and lyrical sentences, but even at the end of over 200 pages, I still feel like I don't have a good understanding of the woman she was moulded to be and has grown to become. It touched on some really interesting topics, but sadly that was all it did – touching but never really scratching beyond the surface.
3.5 TW: Rape (not in review, but in the book itself) This book was a painful read and gut wrenching in so many ways, but I think an important read especially if you're interested in reading about cross-cultural adoptions. There are so many issues raised that I honestly would never have given any thought to if I were considering adopting from outside my culture, but I think they're important aspects to try to understand. There was just so much anger and detachment from all cultures that I found hard to read about, as I think I was always considering the adoptive parents in the process. That said, I have never experienced this, so I'm going to accept it for the experience that the author had.