In her earliest memories, A sensed a difference between her and her white parents. Yet, she also remembers feeling special, chosen and cared for.
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For the better part of A’s life, she never suspected anything was wrong.
She breezed through getting her driver’s license. She applied to college and filed her taxes year after year without any hiccups. That is, until she applied for her passport.
Suddenly, the document she always relied on — a delayed registration of birth, which is fairly common among adoptees — was no longer enough. She realized the papers that would prove she was a citizen were not just missing — they had never existed in the first place.
“ I just sensed there was something wrong and it seemed frightening,” said A, who asked to be referred to by her last initial out of fear of deportation.
A later found out that her adoptive parents never completed her naturalization. It meant she was technically barred from accessing things that she took for granted all her life — like college financial aid. It also left A, who is now in her 40s, vulnerable to deportation to her native South Korea — a country she has never been to, where she doesn’t speak the language or know of any family.

Congress tried to address this issue by passing the Child Citizenship Act in 2000, which grants automatic citizenship to international adoptees. But the law only covered future adoptees and those under 18 at the time the law went into effect, or only those born after February 1983. It also did not apply to children who were brought to the U.S. on the wrong type of visa.
For the past 25 years, advocates have been pushing for Congress to remove the age cutoff and narrow the citizenship gap among adoptees. A bill was reintroduced several times, but it has yet to make it past the House.
Now, advocates say President Trump’s second term has ushered in a new era of fear for adoptees without citizenship. Trump has consistently vowed to carry out the largest deportation program that the country has ever seen. To do so, his administration is casting a far wider net on who to deport — making adoptees like A question if they will be next.
“I definitely didn’t think it was possible for any adoptee to be in my state of limbo. I know now that it’s not only possible but common,” A said.
How adoptees fell through the cracks
It’s difficult to determine how many adoptees lack citizenship in the U.S. Many individuals are unaware of their citizenship status until they reach adulthood and encounter situations such as applying for a passport, seeking a Real ID, or facing legal issues that bring their noncitizen status to light. Arissa Oh, a history professor at Boston College, has researched the origins of international adoptions and highlighted various factors contributing to the citizenship dilemma faced by noncitizen adoptees. Some adoptive parents were unaware of the separate naturalization process from immigration and adoption, leading to oversights in securing their child’s citizenship. In some cases, adoptions were never legally completed, with reports of fraud and malpractice by adoption agencies in countries like South Korea. The Korean government has been urged to investigate citizenship issues among adoptees and provide support to those without citizenship. Oh emphasized the systemic failures in ensuring adoptees’ naturalization, pointing to the disconnect between federal citizenship laws and state-controlled adoption processes. This gap leaves adoptees vulnerable to falling through the cracks of the system. One adoptee, referred to as A, shared her experience of discovering her noncitizen status in her 20s when the U.S. State Department requested proof of her citizenship. Feeling alone and unsure of where to seek help, A postponed addressing the issue, hoping it was a misunderstanding that could easily be resolved. Later, when she asked her parents about her citizenship, they informed her that she was adopted by a U.S. citizen, making her a U.S. citizen as well. Years later, she shared her situation with a member of a Facebook group for adoptees, who advised her to reach out to attorney Gregory Luce promptly. Luce, an adoptee himself, specializes in this area and spent two years navigating through various government agencies to determine her citizenship status. The revelation that she was not a U.S. citizen, delivered by Luce in 2019, was a difficult truth for her to hear, sparking fear in her heart.
Adoptees are entitled to the same rights as biological children of their adoptive parents, yet those without citizenship live in a state of uncertainty, akin to newly arrived immigrants. They are ineligible for college financial aid, federal benefits, certain government jobs, and soon, they may lose the ability to fly domestically under the Real ID enforcement starting in May. Joy Alessi, a Korean adoptee who obtained citizenship at 52, worries about the impact of working as a noncitizen on her future retirement benefits. She questions why children are held responsible for their parents’ mistakes in such matters.
Attorneys often advised adoptees like Alessi to stay under the radar rather than address their immigration status, putting them at risk of facing the full force of immigration enforcement for even minor offenses. NPR reported the case of an adoptee who was deported to Mexico after a marijuana possession conviction due to an improper adoption filing. Amanda Cho of Adoptees for Justice highlights the lack of support for deported adoptees in navigating life in a foreign country, leading to unemployment, homelessness, and mental health challenges.
Advocates argue that eliminating the age cutoff from the 2000 law could provide relief for thousands of adoptees. Efforts to reform this issue have seen bipartisan support, but progress has been sluggish due to its association with immigration, a notoriously challenging area for reform. Rep. Adam Smith notes the difficulty in addressing this “simple and straightforward wrong,” emphasizing the need to prevent family separation at its core.
In addition to federal action, states can enhance support for adoptees by granting them greater access to their adoption records. These documents, often highly confidential, require court orders or parental permission in several states, with fees for access sometimes exceeding those for non-adoptee birth certificates. This issue affects both domestically and internationally adopted individuals, as seen in A’s case, where obtaining essential documents for her immigration case proved to be a prolonged and arduous process in state court. According to Luce, A would have already obtained her green card if it had been easier to obtain the necessary papers. Luce expressed frustration and concern for intercountry adopted individuals like A who struggle to obtain essential documents to prove their lawful status in the United States, deeming it a violation of human rights and personal dignity that has been fought against for over five decades.
In the midst of the new Trump administration, A embarked on the journey to secure her green card by marrying a U.S. citizen in 2022, offering a promising pathway to citizenship. However, the lack of adoption papers continues to be a hurdle in her quest for legal status. A’s husband is now more anxious due to the current political climate, amplifying the challenges they face.
The inability to obtain a Real ID means A will soon be unable to travel within the country, resulting in missed opportunities like work trips and special occasions with loved ones. Despite these setbacks, A remains grateful for the life she has established, including her dream apartment, fulfilling career, and supportive circle of friends, many of whom share her adoption journey.
Reflecting on her journey, A acknowledges the hardships endured and the perseverance required to find her place in the world. The obstacles she faces serve as a reminder of the resilience and determination that have shaped her path thus far.