Why a Generation of Adoptees Is Returning to South Korea
Laura Klunder’s newest tattoo runs down the inside of her left forearm and reads “K85-160, rx ” a number that dates to her infancy. Klunder was 9 months old when her South Korean mother left her at a police station in Seoul.
The Magician’s Daughter
When I was a child, approved storytelling took place in the basement, no rx in the only room in my house that was ever locked. Inside, the air felt several degrees cooler and it smelled of talcum powder and stale cigarettes. From floor to ceiling, posters of magicians—most from the turn of the last century—lined the walls.
Postville, Iowa, Is Up for Grabs
Around 10 on a clear May morning in 2008, two black helicopters circled over Postville, Iowa, a town of two square miles and fewer than 3,000 residents. Then a line of S.U.V.’s drove past Postville’s main street and its worn brick storefronts.
Shutting Themselves In
One morning when he was 15, Takeshi shut the door to his bedroom, and for the next four years he did not come out. He didn’t go to school. He didn’t have a job. He didn’t have friends.