In the Matter of Cha Jung Hee  
          Directed by Deann Borshay Liem. 2010. 63 minutes. In English.
          Study areas: Korea, adoption, identity, Korean war, race.
          
          In the Matter of Cha Jung Hee chronicles the unusual search  for an adoptee’s ghostly double. Deann Borshay Liem, whose Korean name is Kang  Ok Jin, was adopted by the Borshay family in 1966 under the name of Cha Jung  Hee. Before she left Korea to join her new family, the orphanage director told  her not to reveal that she was actually Kang Ok Jin and not Cha Jung Hee. When  Deann had learned enough English, however, she told her adoptive mother that  she was not Cha Jung Hee and that she remembered her mother taking her to an  orphanage. Her adoptive mother responded that her Korean mother had died while  giving birth to her and that her father had been killed during the Korean War.  Deann was a war orphan. And so, as Deann became increasingly immersed in her new  life, new culture, and new family in America, her memory of Korea, her language,  and her identity slowly evaporated. 
            
            Then, one day, she discovered two different  photographs, both of which were identified as Cha Jung Hee in the back. One  photo was of her and the other was not. When she saw these two photos, she  immediately knew that the other girl was Cha Jung Hee. She put this out of her  mind until she found her birth family and received a letter from her older  brother, Ho-Jin, who was still in Korea. He told her of long lost memories of  her mother, five brothers and sisters, and herself as Kang Ok Jin, a girl of  whom she had no memory. Distressed and shaken, Deann became obsessed with  childhood images from home videos to capture the exact moment when she – Kang  Ok Jin, later known as Cha Jung Hee – disappeared into Deann Borshay, the newly  adopted daughter. She felt that if she were somehow been able to identify this  moment, she perhaps could have retrieved her lost memories before they  disappeared. Her longing for her identity did not cease, even after her  discovery of her “real” identity as Kang Ok Jin. Rather, Deann could find “no  proof that I was not who I was.” In all of her adoption records, she was an  orphan named Cha Jung Hee. Her driver’s license and passport have Cha Jung  Hee’s birth date, not her own. This orphan identity carried her forward to the  United States and continues to surface in her present life. To put this  ‘ghostly double’ to rest, Deann decided to search for Cha Jung Hee. 
            
            Deann’s  search for Cha Jung Hee begins with a visit to Sungduk orphanage, the orphanage  where both Cha Jung Hee and Kang Ok Jin’s lives must have briefly intersected.  Before the adoption, Deann’s adoptive parents participated in a Foster Parents  program through which they sent a monthly donation and gifts to an orphan, Cha  Jung Hee, and, in return, received thank you cards and letters written by a  social worker at the orphanage on behalf of Cha Jung Hee. Unbeknownst to the  social workers and the staff, Cha Jung Hee’s father came and took her away from  the orphanage. A couple of months after this, the Borshays expressed interest  in adopting Cha Jung Hee. A social worker firmly believed that another child  could use this opportunity to better her life and so she put another child  (Kang Ok Jin) in Cha Jung Hee’s place and sent her away. At this point, Deann  has only been able to discover bits about Cha Jung Hee’s past and nothing yet  about her present life. 
            In  detailing the process of searching for and actually meeting with several Cha  Jung Hees, the film shifts its focus from identifying the true Cha Jung Hee to  forging connections with working class Korean women and Korean adoptees. The  film portrays the lives of all the Cha Jung Hees – who all appear to have come  from economically modest backgrounds – with a sense of empathy and affiliation  rather than of estrangement and distance. Her empathic engagement continues to  create a sense of belonging as she observes a gathering of sixty Swedish  adoptees in Seoul, Korea. She says, “Not only I could have been Cha Jung Hee,  but I could have been Swedish.” With Deann’s acknowledgment of both of these  possible identities as lives that could have been hers, the film beautifully  yet incisively points to the proximity between working-class Korean nationals and  Korean adoptees, as well as a sense of randomness that is inherent in  transnational adoption. By making the associations between these two remote  seeming identities Deann furthers suggests a sense of solidarity.  
            
            Another  narrative of this film presents the historical genesis of transnational  adoption practice during the Korean war and its continuous existence thereafter.  By employing old newsreel images of the Korean war and enumerating the war’s  massive collateral damage and civilian casualties, including hundreds thousands  of orphans, In the Matter of Cha Jung Hee presents a critical analysis of how what was once an emergency war relief  program became a global business and asks the viewer to consider this  transition in the context of working class women’s realities and life  struggles. By juxtaposing the life stories of her birth mother, Chun Kil Soon, with  South Korea’s troubled history, rooted as it is in Japanese colonialism, the  Korean war, its subsequent division, and U.S. domination of the South, the film  places birth mothers’ decisions to give up their children in the context of  severe lifelong struggles. Thus, In the  Matter of Cha Jung Hee broadens its scope of analysis from personal quests  for identity to a consideration of a historical and political framework in  order to provide a deeper understanding of transnational adoption practice from  the standpoint of the sending region.
            
            The film  ends with Deann meeting Cha Jung Hee. This Cha Jung Hee did pass through  Sungduk orphanage, but the other details of her life story do not match with  the information that Deann has. Nevertheless, this Cha Jung Hee seems to be the  right person, and Deann tries to return the shoes that Kang Ok Jin was wearing  when she entered a new phase of her life in the Borshay family, carrying with  her the fictive past of Cha Jung Hee. “I have had a happy life here,” says Cha  Jung Hee, who refused to take the shoes and acknowledged the difficulties that  Deann as a child must have experienced in adjusting to a new culture, new  people, and a new language. 
            
          Her search  for Cha Jung Hee concludes with the critical realization that Cha Jung Hee can  be viewed as “a template of a perfect orphan.” It no longer matters who the  real Cha Jung Hee was. As long as such a template exists, as narrated in the  film by Deann, anyone can fill it. In the  Matter of Cha Jung Hee challenges the popular myth of the Korean war orphan  and simultaneously engages with the unending legacies of the Korean war through  imagery associated with transnational adoption. 
Hosu  Kim is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at the College of Staten    Island, City University of New  York.  Her research interests include  media theories, feminist methodologies, critical Korean studies, and cultural  Studies.  She is currently working on a  book manuscript, Virtual Mothering: Birthmothers and Transnational Adoption  Practice in South Korea.  Against an emergent figure of the birthmother in search and reunion narrative,  she treads upon the Internet, television, and interviews via which to engage  the terrains of virtual mothering with a critical cultural and feminist  analysis. 
           
          
            
             
             
            
              In the Matter of Cha Jung Hee  is available for purchase from the distributor's website
              Resources and information about the film can be found on the Mu Films website.
  
             
 
 
 
Last Updated: February 24, 2014