broken whole is an ongoing photographic collaboration between Bruno Figueras and myself.
Since the end of the Korean war in 1953, over 220,000 South Korean children have been adopted internationally mostly to Europe and the United States. Many were not orphans in the traditional sense, as their parents were still living. These children were abandoned or relinquished for adoption usually due to being mixed-race or for being born to single, unwed mothers. I am one of these children... this is my story.
Growing up, I was often told to be grateful for having been adopted. I learned quickly to bury any uncomfortable feelings or painful emotions, hiding behind a stoic mask. I felt trapped behind and betrayed by my Asian face, when Asian is the last thing I felt and the last thing about myself that I wanted to embrace.
I met my biological mother on 29 December, 2014.
Since 1998, she has been in an assisted living hospital, after having suffered a cerebral stroke which left her paralyzed on the right side of her body and unable to speak. Everything that I was looking for to fill in the gaps of my past, her story, and our shared history was inaccessible in my mother's inability to communicate. But looking into my mother's eyes, I knew she knew who I was. Something deep inside of me broke, while we held hands and cried together.
I returned home and transmuted into my mother. I was frozen and immobile, lost somewhere deep inside myself, and did not want to speak about it. . I had no words to explain how I felt, because I felt nothing. I was numb. And hollow. It hurt to be alive. All I wanted to do was sleep. And forget.
Bruno watched all of this helplessly. He coaxed me to get up, back to the living. He urged me to express myself, in whatever way possible. Creating these images with Bruno is part of my process of regaining my voice: to assimilate all that I have experienced as a Korean adoptee; to reveal how external circumstances and perceptions have affected my internal spaces and to expose my inner battles while exploring the entirety of my identity; and perhaps to find some peace in the complexity of being a conscious, whole human being.
This project is dedicated to my birth mother, whose voice has been silenced... and to all the single, unwed mothers in South Korea, who receive no familial or societal support, and make the very brave, but heart-breaking decision to give up their children in hopes of offering them a better future.
~ hojung audenaerde