Brian Conyer. Photo by Manuel Umo/Newlogiccine.com.
Lean on Me
Inspired by the influence of his older adoptee sisters, Brian Conyer starts a mentorship program for adopted youth.
by YOUNG RAE KIM
Brian Conyer, adopted from Korea at age 1, grew up in a blue-collar family in Detroit. His father worked as a truck driver, and his mother juggled working part-time at an adoption agency and going back to school. Although money was tight, his parents, who are white, did all that they could to provide for him and his two older sisters, also adopted from Korea. They even uprooted the family from a tough neighborhood of Detroit to North Carolina in order to provide more opportunities for their children.
“As a child I didn’t have a better understanding of money and how much things cost. I wanted to play all these sports and all these different activities,” said Conyer. “And they never said no; they always said yes.”
In high school, when Conyer was unhappy in the area’s public school, he asked his parents if he could attend a private school. Without hesitation, his parents took out loans to send him to one of the most expensive private schools in that area.
All of these sacrifices came flooding back into Conyer’s consciousness, quite unexpectedly, after a milestone trip to his birth country four years ago. Conyer decided to search for his biological parents in Korea, and was able to find his biological father first, then his biological mother the following month. But, after meeting this man, with whom he shared the same eyes and nose, and this woman, who gave birth to him, Conyer said he realized he felt no closer to them than to strangers. He said he harbored no resentment toward them, but sought them out only so he could close this chapter of his life that had been left blank for many years.
From this experience, Conyer came to a realization that he said would forever change his life.
The sacrifices and love of his adoptive parents were what truly made them his parents, he said. He also reflected on the deep influence of his two older sisters. Although all three siblings are not biologically related, their bond runs deeper than blood. Having two adoptees around that he looked up to, Conyer believes he was able to grow up with a healthy sense of identity and not feel as isolated as some adoptees feel.
“I remember situations when I was a kid, asking my sisters questions about adoption, and I just had that comfort of having other adoptees around,” said Conyer.
His sisters would become the inspiration for Connect-A-Kid, a mentorship program for adopted kids that Conyer launched earlier this year. After experiencing firsthand how an adoptee role model could positively impact an adopted kid’s life, Conyer wanted to try to provide that kind of support to other adopted children.
After a successful six-month pilot program in Denver, Colorado, Connect-A-Kid officially kicked off in Los Angeles in August. Having researched many different types of mentorship programs, Conyer decided to use a team-based model that links up four adopted children with four adoptee mentors.
“I thought, ‘Wow, this would really benefit the kids, because it eliminates the awkwardness of a forced relationship in a one-on-one mentorship program,” said Conyer. “It’s more about bringing together a community.”
Every month the group hangs out through social events, such as a Dodgers game or a trip to the local museum. These outings not only allow an opportunity for adult adoptee mentors to be role models for the youth, but it also gives the children a chance to interact and build friendships with other adopted children.
Conyer hopes that these children will be able to create a community, where they can lean on each other during tough times. He recalled, when he was younger, he often confided in his sisters, Kim and Stacy, asking them questions that were gnawing at him: “What is adoption? Why was I adopted? Who are my parents?” While his sisters were also young at that time, and often gave the same answers his adoptive parents would, he said it meant more coming from them.
“Even though the content was the same, it was different because I knew … that they understood,” said Conyer.
Connect-A-Kid is open to all ethnicities, but the majority of children participating during these inaugural months have been from Korea, largely because that’s where Conyer’s personal networks happened to be. But the founder said he hopes to expand the program’s reach in the coming months.
The 30-year-old, who works as a medical device sales representative, devotes much of his free time to Connect-A-Kid. As a startup organization, the group runs solely off of pro bono services, a staff of volunteers and donations from family and friends. But the long-term goal is to be able to hire staff and create training programs. The group launched an Indiegogo fundraiser, and the goal is to raise $50,000 by Dec. 6.
Though still in its infancy, Connect-A-Kid is making a difference in young lives, said Conyer. He recalled an adoptive mother in Denver who sought out Connect-A-Kid because her son was struggling with depression and identity issues. A few weeks later, during one of the group’s debriefing sessions over coffee and dessert, Conyer asked all the participating kids what their favorite part of Connect-A-Kid was. That boy, who was earlier very reserved, was the first to raise his hand and shout, “I like Connect-A-Kid because I can learn about my culture, and meet awesome people!”
“It was one of those moments—it was a small comment, and such a small example—but it was a really powerful moment for me,” said Conyer, “because I knew, then and there, that what we were doing was right.”
This article was published in the November 2013 issue of KoreAm. Subscribe today! To purchase a single issue copy of the November issue, click the “Buy Now” button below. (U.S. customers only. Expect delivery in 5-7 business days).
