City Hunter: Lee Min-ho K-Drama Deals With Nature vs. Nurture, Fate & Destiny

K-DramaK-Adoptee

Nov 19

“The son of a murdered government agent tries to find the five men who betrayed his father 28 years ago, and makes a plan to punish them his own way.”

— Netflix

Ever since watching Crash Landing On You early in the coronavirus pandemic, I’ve gone down the rabbit hole that is Korean dramas. Recent articles in Time, Oprah, Glamour, Marie Claire, Town & Country, and even the Washington Post show America as a whole is discovering the world of K-dramas. While watching TV is generally considered to be a waste, for me, it almost feels like I’m catching up on lost time.

I often joke that I always knew I was adopted but didn’t realize I was Korean until 1999. I grew up in Iowa with five white siblings and three bi-racial siblings so of course I knew I was Asian but based on my surroundings and the way I was raised, my outlook and viewpoint couldn’t help but be from a white perspective.

In early 1999 I got my first home computer and ventured onto that thing they were calling the world wide web. Yep—that’s what www stands for. One of my first searches was for Holt. I don’t know why my adoption agency came to mind but I saw they were sponsoring an event called The Gathering to bring the first generation of Korean adoptees together (anyone 18 or older at the time). One would think the thought of being able to meet other KADs (Korean adoptees) would be something I might look forward to but it was just the opposite. Seeing other Asians was like looking into a mirror with the reflection being an unwelcome reminder I did not look like the white faces I was surrounded by every day in my home, school, church, and sometimes the entire town. I still felt the need to attend The Gathering because I knew I was one of the earlier international transracial adoptees and I wanted to not only hear what they were saying but have a voice in the conversation.

When I arrived in Washington D.C. the last thing I expected was to make friends but what I found was a group of people who knew me better than those who have known me my entire life ever will. Without realizing it we had all lived a similar life and upon first meeting, were finishing each other’s sentences. I was thrilled to connect with people who resembled me both inside and out. In that connection, I found a sense of pride in being Korean for the first time. But over the last six months I’ve come to realize what I gained back in 1999 was a sense of pride in my identity as a Korean adoptee—I still hadn’t really embraced being Korean. In my defense, why would I? Why would I want to embrace the part of me that separated me from literally everyone in my day-to-day life? The part that opened me to ridicule when I was growing up. The part that tells me I don’t really belong in the country I call home every time someone tells me my English is really good or asks me where I’m from.

Fast forward to 2020 and everything Korean is on-trend. From K-pop to K-dramas, being Korean is now cool. On TikTok, my feed is inundated with videos of K-pop, K-dramas, Korean actors, and native Koreans teaching you how to speak Korean.

This brings me back to Korean dramas. I’m not sure why I started watching Crash Landing On You. I loved Crazy Rich Asians (read the trilogy after seeing the movie). Really enjoyed To All The Boys I’ve Loved. One was a mega-hit in the theaters the other on Netflix. One featured an entirely Asian cast, the other an Asian lead. Both would fall under the category of mainstream. Even as I am writing these words I realize this had to be the catalyst. Exposure. And the fact K-dramas are now easily accessible on a mainstream platform.

Watching episode after episode and seeing only people who look like me is indescribable. I didn’t even know this is what I needed. The other thing I discovered besides being drawn in by the storylines, characters, actors, and actresses—I can’t get enough of Korea in general. The food, the language, and all the different locations (Seoul, Busan, Jeju Island). This is my first real glimpse into the country I would’ve grown up in had I not been adopted to a family in the United States. I’ve barely watched American television since discovering K-dramas and K-movies.

The Oscars recently put out new eligibility guidelines for a film to be a contender for Best Picture that includes increasing diversity in front of and behind the camera. As expected it hasn’t been well-received by a lot of people. Debate all you want but REPRESENTATION MATTERS.

KoreAm Daniel Henney Cover.jpg — Chasing Lovely, aka my kids, was also featured in this issue of KoreAm!

If you haven’t already noticed, my view on K-dramas is through the lens of a Korean adoptee. My jaw nearly dropped to the ground when Daniel Henney’s character Dr. Henry Kim in My Lovely Sam Soon started talking about his mom being adopted to the U.S. What??? First of all, I’ve always been told Koreans look down on adoption thus the reason so many of us were shipped out of the country. If it’s so shameful, how did it make it into the storyline of what turned out to be the most popular K-drama in 2005? Secondly, the guy from Criminal Minds was in a K-drama? I was even more surprised when I researched Henney to find out he’s mixed and in real life, his mom is a Korean adoptee who grew up in Michigan (as did he). He’s basically an older version of my kids (who love it when they discover other mixed folks like themselves). If you want to see how our connection is one degree closer read the description under KoreAm’s cover photo.

Now to City Hunter. This Korean drama starring Lee Min-ho isn’t about adoption per say, but for all intents and purposes the underlying foundation of his character’s storyline reads similarly to the KAD experience. I first saw Lee Min-ho in The King: Eternal Monarch, a 2020 K-drama also on Netflix. City Hunter was released in 2011 and was Min-ho’s third major role in a K-drama. That was almost ten years ago so I have a hard time getting over all the years I missed watching Korean dramas because I didn’t even know they existed. 2011 is the year my oldest graduated from high school, next year will be her 10-year reunion. Lee Min-ho’s first lead in a drama, Boys Over Flowers, was released back in 2009 and is credited as being his breakout role. Crash Landing On You’s Hyun Bin first gained wide recognition back in 2005 from the romantic comedy My Lovely Kim Sam Soon (yep, the same one that basically made Daniel Henney a star too). How would my life be different if I had been able to have my “ah-ha” moment ten or 15 years ago? If I had embraced being Korean 15 years ago? If I felt confident in being Korean 15 years ago? Wanted to cook and eat Korean food 15 years ago? Wanted to go to Korea 15 years ago?

Fate and destiny. Nature versus nurture. Humans will forever debate what role these two concepts play in our lives. City Hunter delves into these two age-old questions.

I wasn’t expecting to feel such a deep connection to a K-drama whose main plot was revenge. What could I possibly have in common with a handsome 30-something, kickass secret vigilante set on getting revenge for the wrongful death of his father? When you consider his day job as an MIT graduate who works on the international communications team in the Blue House (Korea’s equivalent of the White House) the gap between us grows even wider. Or does it?

If you haven’t seen City Hunter you may want to stop here as I guarantee there will be SPOILERS. Proceed with caution if you don’t want to know what happens!

Lee Yun-Seong (played by Lee Min-ho) is taken from his single mother, Lee Kyung-hee (played by Kim Mi-sook) when he is a very young baby and raised by his dead father’s best friend. Presumably, the reason is to give her a chance at a better life after her husband was killed so as not to be saddled with being a single mom. That’s very similar to one reason KADs have been told we were given up for adoption. It’s hard to know what to believe. Some Korean mothers have said their babies were taken by family members without their permission. Some were given up by fathers after the mother died, some given up after the father died. Others were said to give their kids up thinking a better life awaited them in America. Some have even said they lost their kid in the market. Then there’s the one about mixed girls having no option other than becoming prostitutes. My oldest sister only a few years ago reminded me this would’ve been my fate had I not been adopted. I let her know this prostitute theory has been somewhat debunked but it still doesn’t tell me why I was given up.

We learn early on Yun-Seong and his father Lee Jin-Pyo (played by Kim Sang-joong) want to avenge the wrongful deaths of Jin-pyo’s 20 fellow soldiers, including Jin-pyo’s best friend who is Yun-Seong’s real father. Yun-Seong and his mom are each told the other is dead. Once revealed she is alive Yun-Seong is very resentful believing she abandoned him so she could live a better life without him. On the surface, Yun-Seong’s life and mine couldn’t be more different. It’s only been very recent I’ve even wondered why I was abandoned. City Hunter made me at least question the possibility I may not have been given up by my birth mom even though I believe the probability is very slim. I grew up thinking I was a newborn when I was abandoned but found out I wasn’t given up until I was about nine months old. Who had me for those first nine months? Did my mom try to keep me? How many people in Korea know of my existence? Am I on a family registry? Is there anyone out there looking for me? It seems at the very least there’s a good chance I have half-siblings somewhere in Korea. Is it too late to find my biological parents?

Like me, Yun-Seong was also raised outside of Korea (me in Iowa, him in the Golden Triangle in Southeast Asia). Ironically, one of the first scenes in City Hunter shows people in the fields with pointy straw hats. This is exactly how I envisioned my birth mother when I was growing up. When Yun-Seong first arrives in S. Korea he goes to Sejongno, Gwanghwamun Plaza in Seoul (where the famous statue of Admiral Yi Su-sin is located), and in his silent reflection almost seems to gain strength for the purpose he has come. I haven’t been back to Korea since I was sent to the U.S. when I was a year old. I’m not sure what my initial reaction will be but I imagine having a moment stopping to take everything in similar to Yun-Seong (minus the background music set to slow-motion action).

In SE Asia Yun-Seong was known as Poo Chai. In America, he was John Lee. In S. Korea, he was Lee Yun-Seong. My given name was Moon Sook-Ja. When I arrived in America I was given the name Kimberly Ann Pfaltzgraff. As an adult, I started going by my initials, KAT (I kept Turner after my divorce). It’s only been in the last few months I’ve begun really acknowledging my given name. But literally, as I’m researching my background for this post I notice for the first time in the few documents I have my name is listed two different ways. Moon Soon-Ja and Moon Sook-Ja. It’s only one letter but it totally changes my name. In 2000 I found out the birthday noted in the first letter to my adoptive parents is not the same date that was on the photo they were sent, one is in July, the other in May. The only way I even knew the otherwise insignificant numbers referenced a birthdate is because they matched the date on Holt’s “processing documents.” Both my name and birthdate are different on the original check-in list and original Korean passport than my adoption decree. There’s one other insignificant document that lists my birthday as being September 7th which I also just realized is July 9th transposed from 7/9 to 9/7.

I love a great reunion story, be it Twinsters or Three Identical Strangers, and City Hunter provides an exciting fictional one, but I’ve never envisioned any sort of story or reunion for myself. Because I always pictured my birth mom as an old woman for so long I assumed she was dead. It wasn’t until I gave birth myself I realized my biological mom could have been fairly young when I was born. In one scene in City Hunter, Yun-Seong’s mom pulls out an article of baby clothing she’s saved and mourns the loss of being able to raise her son wondering where he is. Just recently I wondered if there was a 100-day celebration for me? Are there pictures of me dressed up, surrounded by a feast and gifts during this traditional Korean celebration for babies?

Yun-Seong is very resentful towards his mom and doesn’t reveal his identity even once he knows who she is because he believes she abandoned him. I’ve never harbored any ill-will towards my biological parents. For most of my life, I wasn’t even the least bit curious about them. I’m guessing there are a lot of half-truths and full-out lies told to adoptees by their biological families because of shame and embarrassment. If I ever meet my biological parents there’s bound to be some skepticism regarding how much of the truth I’ll ever really know but unless I’m rejected resentment isn’t one of the emotions I expect to feel. If anything I worry about how connected I’ll feel given the gap between us because of language and culture.

Yun-Seong and I were both raised by parents who loved us and passed on their traditions, hopes, and dreams. [SPOILER ALERT—It’s a big one] Eventually, Yun-Seong learns his biological father isn’t even the man his mom was married to when he was born (and the “dad” who raised him knew the entire time). The death of the man he believed was his father and survival of his dad’s best friend (who raised Yun-Seong) is the reason he was raised to become a modern-day warrior. To take revenge on the five men responsible for the murder of Yun-Seong’s “dad.” The one who raised him wants him to believe it’s his fate but without that revenge shaping everything about him what was even the purpose of Yun-Seong’s life? [END SPOILER ALERT]

My story isn’t remotely as dramatic as Yun-Seong’s but it’s not without some twists and turns. When I did a DNA test through 23andMe in 2014 I found out I was not mixed—as in half Korean, half white, as my parents were told. While my kids were thrilled to find out they were now half Korean instead of only one quarter, it completely changed my narrative. If I was full Korean then my dad isn’t American. I’m also not the dreaded mixed baby who will be shunned by Korean society and forced to become a prostitute. So why was I given up? Supposedly abandoned at Busan City Hall—another almost cliché thing KADs are told—when I’m three months shy of being a year old. Were my parents together? Did one die? Is there a full intact family somewhere in Korea like many other adoptees have found?

Not everything in City Hunter connects with my adoptee identity—at least not directly. Towards the end of episode six Prince’s Purple Rain plays in the background of a hotel bar scene. In 2011 when City Hunter originally aired I was living in a high-rise condo in downtown Minneapolis, an easy walk from First Avenue (the club made famous by Prince). When I was working at the CBS affiliate in Minneapolis I was with the reporter who covered Prince’s comeback concert in 2000 at the University of Minnesota. It was the only time I saw him live in concert. My kids (aka Chasing Lovely) first paying gig was booked by Steve McClellan, former First Avenue GM who first booked Prince at the club. Steve booked them regularly when they were in high school up until we moved to Nashville and again when they would come back through their hometown. I was oblivious to anything Korean in 2011 as I prepared for my oldest to graduate from high school—still I can’t help but notice these small connections almost ten years later. Had I grown up in Korea would I even know who Prince was?

While Yun-Seong’s dad wants him to kill the five men responsible for his father’s death Yun-Seong sees things differently because he wants to be able to live a normal happy life once he’s finished getting revenge. Despite how he was raised we can see from the storyline his biological parents had a huge impact on his character even though he didn’t know who they were. Nature versus nurture. He wants a just and legal solution to their revenge so it will end with them and doesn’t continue with the next generation. When he learns the truth about his biological parents Yun-Seong realizes his whole existence with the father who raised him was based on lies yet he’s been taught it is his fate and destiny to avenge these deaths.

Especially during those early days of international transracial adoption, it’s so clear my KAD friends and I could easily have ended up in each other’s homes. It’s strange to wonder how I would be different if I’d grown up with a different family. There are many fair questions when it comes to adoption, especially international and transracial. That being said, I know my parents were only trying to help orphans have a home. I grew up feeling loved and as much a part of my family as any of my other eight siblings. It’s only in the last decade or so I’ve come to truly understand how who raises you impacts so much of what you believe. Fate and destiny. I can’t begin to imagine how different my life would’ve been had I been raised by a family in California or France, or my biological family in Korea—instead of Iowa. While I grew up in a loving family, I learned at The Gathering and since then, not all KADs were so lucky. Nature versus nurture. Even though Yun-Seong was raised to get revenge he chose to go against the one who raised him and do it his way. While who he turned out to be ultimately conflicted with how he was raised and many of the bonds of trust were broken between him and the one he called aboji (father) he still looked out for him and wanted to protect him. The differences I have come to have with the family I grew up with have nothing to do with revenge but the last four years have shown me things aren’t as idyllic as I thought when I was growing up. I sometimes wonder if I even knew some of the people I call family or if they really knew me? I know growing up in a white community impacted me, but I’m not sure my being Asian had any impact on them. As we’ve so painfully learned these past four years, not seeing color is not the good thing many assume it to be.

Even though this K-drama is almost ten years old, City Hunter is relevant in so many ways today. City Hunter is the nickname Yun-Seong is given by the people as the anonymous hero who [SPOILER ALERT] exposes corruption ranging from embezzlement, a college tuition scam, chemical dumping, shoddy military equipment, and the private healthcare versus public option debate. All for a power grab and/or money. Sound familiar? These storyline plots could literally be the current administration in the U.S. and a majority of his party. In the end we see Lee Yun-Seong (aka City Hunter) is just a human being who’s fighting for justice, and equality, who wants to love and be loved, and live a normal happy life. That’s me to a “T.”

Would I watch it again? I’ve watched City Hunter a few times and it’ll always be on my repeat go-to list.