The American adoptees who fear deportation to a country they can't remember

Shirley Chung was just a year old when she was adopted by a US family in 1966. Born in South Korea, her birth father was a member of the American military, who returned home soon after Shirley was born. Unable to cope, her birth mother placed her in an orphanage in Seoul.

He abandoned us, is the nicest way I can put it, says Shirley, now 61. After around a year, Shirley was adopted by a US couple, who took her back to Texas.

Shirley grew up living a life similar to many young Americans. She went to school, got her driving license, and worked as a bartender. I moved and breathed and got in trouble like many teenage Americans of the 80s. I'm a child of the 80s, Shirley says. She had children, got married, and became a piano teacher. Life continued for decades without reason to question her American identity.

However, in 2012 her world came crashing down. After losing her Social Security card and seeking a replacement, Shirley was told she needed to prove her status in the country and discovered that she did not have US citizenship. I had a little mental breakdown after finding out I wasn't a citizen, she reflects.

Shirley is not alone; estimates indicate that between 18,000 and 75,000 American adoptees lack citizenship. The Adoptee Rights Law Center reports that dozens of adoptees have been deported to their countries of birth in recent years, with tragic outcomes for some.

Shirley attributes her predicament to her adoptive parents not finalizing the correct paperwork and blames the education system and government for not alerting her of her status. I blame all the adults in my life that literally just dropped the ball and said: 'She's here in America now, she's going to be fine.'

The issue extends beyond her individual case. A woman adopted from Iran in 1973 discovered at 38 that critical documents for her citizenship claim were lost, complicating her sense of identity significantly. You are told you have these rights as an American, and then all of a sudden they started pushing us into a category of immigrants, simply because they cut us from legislation. We should have all equally had citizenship rights because that was promised through adoption policies, she asserts.

The Child Citizenship Act of 2000 partially addressed the issue, granting citizenship to some adoptees, yet those adopted before February 1983 remain in limbo. Advocates have demanded the removal of the age cut-off in Congress, but efforts have stalled. Debbie Principe, an advocate for her adopted children with special needs, worries that her children's status could lead to deportation.

With the return of Donald Trump to the White House, fears among adoptees have intensified under policies aimed at deporting undocumented immigrants. Adoptee rights groups report an influx of requests for legal help, with many adoptees fearing for their safety. One Iranian adoptee has started avoiding public places and shares her location with friends. I feel stateless, she said, struggling with the bureaucratic invisibility that shadows her existence.

Emily Howe, a civil rights attorney, emphasizes that it should be a straightforward fix for the system to acknowledge the citizenship rights of adopted individuals. Advocates like Shirley hope their stories can reach the president and prompt action to rectify these long-standing injustices.