For the vast majority of her life, A believed she was a U.S. citizen. She navigated life's milestones with the same confidence as her peersobtaining her driver's license, applying for college, and filing her taxes each year without any hurdles. However, everything changed when she applied for a passport. What had once been a simple process suddenly turned into a nightmare as she discovered that the document she had relied ona delayed registration of birth common among adopteeswas insufficient. It became chillingly clear that the papers required to prove her citizenship were not just missing; they had never existed at all.

I just sensed there was something wrong and it seemed frightening, A said, opting to remain anonymous due to her fear of deportation. The revelation was shocking: her adoptive parents had failed to complete her naturalization process. This oversight not only barred her from accessing long-cherished benefits such as college financial aid but also left her in a precarious situation. Now in her 40s, A faces the daunting possibility of being deported to South Korea, a country she hasn't set foot in since she was just three weeks old. She does not speak the language and has no knowledge of any living relatives there.

In 2000, Congress attempted to address this troubling issue by passing the Child Citizenship Act, which was designed to grant automatic citizenship to international adoptees. However, the law only applied to future adoptees and those under 18 at the time it went into effect, meaning that many people, like A, were left without protection. It also failed to cover children who were brought into the U.S. on the wrong type of visa.

For the past quarter-century, advocacy groups have tirelessly campaigned for Congress to revise the age cutoff and close the citizenship gap for adoptees. A bill to this effect has been introduced multiple times but has yet to gain the necessary traction in the House.

As advocates express their concerns, the political climate has shifted dramatically, particularly in the wake of President Trump's second term. His administration has signaled plans for a large-scale deportation program, creating an atmosphere of fear among adoptees without citizenship. I definitely didn't think it was possible for any adoptee to be in my state of limbo, A reflected. I know now that it's not only possible but common.

Determining the exact number of adoptees lacking citizenship in the U.S. is challenging, as many remain blissfully unaware of their status until they reach adulthood and attempt to apply for a passport or secure a Real ID. In some unfortunate instances, a criminal conviction may expose them to deportation, prioritizing their removal from the country.

Arissa Oh, a history professor at Boston College with extensive experience in international adoptions, highlighted various factors contributing to this alarming reality. In many cases, the adoptive parents were either unaware that naturalization is a separate process from adoption and immigration, or they simply did not prioritize completing the necessary paperwork. Sometimes, the adoptions themselves were never legally finalized. Last month, the South Korean government, A's country of origin, acknowledged that some adoption agencies had engaged in fraudulent practices to meet demand, including not properly vetting prospective adoptive parents.

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Korea has urged the government to investigate citizenship issues among adoptees sent to the U.S. and encouraged measures to support those lacking citizenship, as reported by the Associated Press.

Oh pointed out that the systemic issues preventing adoptees from being naturalized underscore a significant disconnect between federal and state responsibilities regarding international adoptions. While U.S. citizenship is a federal matter, adoptions are generally treated as domestic issues, processed through state courts, she noted. This creates a gap in the protection of the children.

A was brought to the West Coast from South Korea when she was just three weeks old. Her adoptive parents had experienced difficulties conceiving, and A never thought to question her citizenship status. It wasn't until her 20s, while working at a coffee shop, that she received an alarming letter from the U.S. State Department requiring more proof of her citizenship. In that moment, she felt lost and uncertain about where to turn, especially considering the financial burden of hiring a lawyer.

I think I just felt really alone and scared, A admitted. I didn't know who to ask for help.

She chose to set the letter aside, returning to the stack of dishes waiting for her attention. Although she was anxious, she thought it might just be a misunderstanding that could be easily resolved. Eventually, she broached the subject of her citizenship with her parents, who reassured her: You were adopted by a U.S. citizen. So you're a U.S. citizen. Yet, this was not the case.

Years later, while participating in a Facebook group for adoptees, A confided in another member about her predicament. This individual encouraged her to reach out to attorney Gregory Luce, who specializes in cases like hers. After connecting in 2019, Luce and A spent two years navigating the labyrinth of government agencies to determine her citizenship status. Unfortunately, the news was heartbreaking. Greg said officially: 'You're not a U.S. citizen,' A recalled. It was hard to hear.

The implications of being an undocumented adoptee are dire. Although adoptees are supposed to be afforded the same rights and protections as biological children of their adoptive parents, those without citizenship often lead precarious lives, rendered ineligible for federal benefits, most college financial aid, and certain government employment opportunities. With the enforcement of Real ID set to take effect in May, many undocumented adoptees, including A, will lose the ability to fly domestically, further complicating their lives.

Joy Alessi, a Korean adoptee associated with the Adoptee Rights Campaign, did not receive her citizenship until she was 52 years old. She expressed concern about how the years spent working as a noncitizen could affect her future retirement benefits. As children, we didnt negotiate our own adoptions, nor did we bring ourselves across the border without proper documentation, she stated. So why should we be held accountable for our parents errors?

For years, attorneys advised Alessi to remain under the radar rather than confront her immigration status, but this approach poses its own risk. A minor legal infraction can attract the attention of immigration enforcement, leading to deportation, even after serving time in prison for an unrelated crime. NPR previously reported on a case where an adoptee and father of five was deported to Mexico after being convicted of marijuana possession in Texas, due to the improper filing of his adoption.

Amanda Cho, a spokesperson for Adoptees for Justice, noted that many adoptees who are deported often find themselves without any support to help them adjust to life in an unfamiliar country, which can lead to serious risks such as unemployment, homelessness, and significant mental health issues. Theyre kind of just left to struggle and survive on their own, she said.

In one tragic case, an adoptee named Phillip Clay took his own life after facing overwhelming challenges in adapting to life in South Korea.

Advocates for adoptees argue that legislative action is crucial, particularly in light of the thousands of individuals who could find relief with an updated bill. The State Department stated that it aims to ensure that intercountry adoptions are safe, ethical, legal and transparent. However, it acknowledged that its role in issues surrounding adoptee citizenship is generally limited to processing applications for U.S. passports.

Advocates contend that the solution lies in eliminating the age cutoff established by the 2000 law. Although previous attempts to push this bill have garnered bipartisan support, progress has been slow, hampered by the contentious nature of immigration reform. Representative Adam Smith, a Democrat from Washington who has previously sponsored the bill, lamented how this issue has been entangled with immigration challenges, stating, This has paralyzed our ability to right what is a very simple and straightforward wrong.

At its core, Cho emphasized that this bill addresses the fundamental issue of preventing family separation. Adoptees were adopted into a family as children, she said. It's unjust that a biological child can commit a crime, serve their time, and continue with their lives, while an adopted child is treated so differently.

Beyond federal action, there are steps states can take to better support adoptees by providing increased access to their adoption records. According to Luce, who founded the Adoptee Rights Law Center, adoption documents are often among the most confidential court records. In many states, including California, Kentucky, and Virginia, adult adoptees are required to obtain a court order or seek permission from their adoptive parents to access certain adoption-related documents. The fees associated with obtaining these records can also be exorbitantly high compared to the cost of retrieving non-adoptee birth certificates.

This issue affects both domestically and internationally adopted individuals. In A's situation, Luce noted that he requested critical documents for her immigration case from state court three times over a span of two years. Had it been easier for A to access these papers, she could have secured her green card long ago. Its incredibly frustrating, if not outrageous, and ultimately dangerous for internationally adopted individuals like A when they cannot obtain basic documents to prove their lawful residency in the United States, Luce remarked. This is a human rights issue that weve been fighting for more than 50 years.

As A tries to navigate her way toward obtaining a green card in the wake of the new Trump administration, her recent marriage to a U.S. citizen offers a glimmer of hope for a clearer path to citizenship. However, she is still unable to apply for a green card until she can secure her adoption papers.

A expressed concern that her husband is more nervous now than ever due to the current political landscape. With the enforcement of Real ID looming, she wont be able to travel domestically, which means missing important work trips and family gatherings, including her best friends birthday celebration in New Yorkan annual tradition she has cherished for over a decade. Its a really big loss, A lamented.

This challenging situation comes at a time when A feels particularly appreciative of the life she has built for herself. She has secured her dream two-bedroom apartment, nestled between parks and hiking trails, and is working in a job she loves, surrounded by a supportive community of friends, many of whom are also adoptees. I am so in tune with how lucky I am, and somehow it feels like a way to measure how long and hard I worked and how many times I moved trying to find my place, A reflected.