Emily’s story
Emily’s adoptive parents wedding
Emily as a young child with some of her adoptive siblings
My name is Emily Warnecke, and I am humbly seeking a gubernatorial pardon. I hope that my story will help you better understand my life and why I am requesting a pardon.
In 1964, I was adopted from South Korea as a three month-old infant. I was brought to live in suburban Los Angeles with my U.S. military family and christened Emily Madonna Warnecke. I was raised by my mother and father, a World War II veteran, along with my parents’ six other children, which included four intercountry adoptees, one domestic adoptee, and one biological child.
Growing up in a predominantly white suburban neighborhood in the aftermath of the Vietnam War, my siblings and I faced frequent bigotry and racially-motivated bullying from our peers. I struggled to make sense of it, not least because my parents instilled in me a strong sense of pride in being American and the daughter of the military.
Between the rejection from my peers and often being the caregiver for my mother who suffered from polio, I frequently felt confused, scared, and alone. I thought things would get better when I was 17 and married and gave birth to my son. This turned out to be a new struggle: For years, I would endure physical and emotional abuse from my husband.
During our time together, the abuse was daily and I was hospitalized multiple times due to serious injuries. One day during my second pregnancy, my then-husband kicked me in the stomach so hard that I hemorrhaged and miscarried. The grief almost overwhelmed me and I spent every day scared, feeling defeated and ashamed.
In 1984, when I was 20 years old, I was arrested and charged with theft and burglary. My then-husband had pressured me to commit this act and still grieving the death of my mother, I agreed. In my mind, it would keep my husband happy and my son and me safe.
During the legal proceedings, I discovered that I was not a U.S. citizen. I was shocked and heartbroken. I had always been proud to be American.
Although a judge eventually dismissed the shoplifting charges, I had already been placed in deportation proceedings. Knowing I would not survive in Korea, the South Korean government refused to accept my order of deportation, and I was left in a state of limbo.
Emily with her adoptive family
From these compounded issues, I suffered a number of mental health breakdowns. I felt hopeless. I began to self-medicate using chemical substances. At the time of my arrest in 1996 for drug possession, I was still struggling with deep depression that was worsened by my substance use.
I seriously considered incarceration a welcome alternative to the seemingly insurmountable challenges of my daily life. Out of concern for me, my father begged me to accept a plea deal. While I was incarcerated my adoptive father passed away. I was heartbroken.
Following my release from prison, I underwent significant personal reflection. I had survived unimaginable pain and was being offered another opportunity to rebuild my life. Having received a work permit from the U.S. government, I acquired and held jobs in aerospace and other industries over the next ten years.
When I was 48 years old, I was diagnosed with a severe degenerative spinal disc disease. The symptoms include loss of cartilage, bulging discs, nerve damage, and intense physical pain. My condition made it impossible for me to continue working. I applied to receive disability benefits, but learned that I was ineligible to recoup my full benefits due to my lack of citizenship. While I have been able to maintain stable housing, I often struggle to make ends meet and am often bedridden due to extreme pain.
Emily at home in the “We Are American” documentary
Despite the multitude of losses and challenges I have faced throughout my life, I have survived and persevered. I am deeply regretful for my mistakes, and my faith has helped me understand that I am more than my worst decisions.
I take full accountability for the mistakes of my past, and I work hard to ensure that my present and future are better. In addition to completing the requirements set forth by the court system, I have healed and strengthened relationships with members of my extended family.
I am an active member of my church and I volunteer with the adoptee-led advocacy group Adoptees For Justice. In this, I support other adoptees without citizenship who endure challenging circumstances. In trying to build a better world, I also regularly share my story with members of Congress to demonstrate the need for passage of federal legislation that secures citizenship for all intercountry adoptees.
I have fulfilled my legal obligations to the justice system and paid my debt to society, and I have grown and healed in ways I never thought possible. Despite this, there is constant fear of being separated from my family, home, and my country—the only one I have ever known.
Despite having paid taxes for years and having grown up believing I was a U.S. citizen, I do not receive the benefits or protections of citizenship. As a disabled adoptee without citizenship living with an order of deportation, the COVID-19 pandemic has further exacerbated my financial situation and uncertainty about my ability to manage my medical condition going forward.
Emily with a friend from Adoptees for Justice.
I am now 60 years old. A gubernatorial pardon would help ease many of my difficulties and struggles, and allow me to live more fully and freely, fulfilling God’s work and helping others.
With a pardon, I will seek to restore my immigration status and be safe from deportation. In life, we do not get to choose the family into which we are born or adopted. We cannot undo mistakes in our past.
What we can do is make every effort to acknowledge and accept our current circumstances, and exercise responsibility by leading a good life that contributes positively to the well-being of those around us and helps make the world a better place for generations going forward. I am proud to say I am doing all of these things.
- Emily Warnecke
