This weekend I will embark on a journey to another time. Actually, I’m going to Kalamazoo, Michigan to a living history festival. It’s a part of my family heritage.

My father’s family owns and operates a store in Ohio that sells the accouterments for people who want to re-enact United States history up to the 1860s. They sell everything from the muzzleloader to the buckle shoes.

I grew up thinking that the family business was a big party. I got to dress up in costumes and travel to different places. We slept in a huge canvas marquis tent and cooked over a fire (though we cheated and had a gas stove in the back of the tent). When my father was traveling to give demonstrations instead of just to sell, I got to show people how to make lead bullets and to start fires with flint and steel. There are not very many people out there who can claim this as a part of their childhood.

As a Korean adoptee, I was a part of a world where few minorities tread. For people who worry about how their Korean child will fit into the world, my answer is simple. We can make ourselves fit anywhere. As I wondered through this world of U.S. history, it never occurred to me that I didn’t fit in. I was no different than my cousins. It was simple. I belonged because my family belonged.

I’ve been going to this show with my father every year since around 1996. It’s an indoor show, which is wonderful because I have long outgrown the awe of sleeping outside in a tent without running water. It’s also the only show I go to now because I’m busy with my own career and family. This one happens to be close to where I live so it's easy for me to attend. I’m much more aware of how different I am now. It’s the curse of the grown up to think too much. You look around and you wonder what people are they thinking – especially the tourists. Do they realize that it’s a family business and I’m a member of the family?

We did discover a couple of years ago that many of the vendors thought my father and I were married. My father was horrified and quickly dispelled that rumor. It made a certain amount sense since I was the only person they ever saw with my father (if they ignored the rather large age difference). They never will meet my mother. She has never enjoyed the re-enactment scene and her idea of camping is a four star hotel. Anyhow, my mother thought it was hilarious that so many people thought my father had "robbed the cradle".

So, I am off for the weekend. Last year I met a mother with two Korean adoptees. I wonder who I will meet this weekend.