Filmmaker Liz Sargent shares how her story as a Korean-American adoptee who grew up with ten siblings inspired a work that explores some of her life questions and fears.

By Lilou Margueron

Film writer and director Liz Sargent makes movies inspired from her own life story to explore questions about adoption, family and disability.

Sargent’s latest production, Take Me Home, was released in 2023. It tells a story inspired by her adoptive sister Anna, who was born with a cyst on her brain, leaving her with very short-term memory and various cognitive and physical disabilities.

In the film, Anna is made the main character in a fictional plot in which she needs to learn how to communicate with her sister after their mother’s death.

“I have always been really worried about what will happen to [my sister] when my adoptive parents pass away, and how I get to keep my own independence,” says the filmmaker, who became a co-guardian of her sister when writing the film.

“I want to take care of Anna and I think it is an important part of family and human responsibility, but social services in America are confusing and complicated so caregiving can have a hindering impact,” she explains.

Sargent described the film as a learning process for her since she had to figure out how to adapt the filming set to allow her sister to perform—by shortening transitions to maximise the time of acting, and by taking long shots to create a quieter environment and avoid disturbing Anna.

“She learned it, she got it, all we had to do was to give her a little space and have a little bit of patience, and it was possible!” she says.

Sargent’s work also touches on adoption. The first film she wrote and directed, Strangers’ Reunion which launched in 2019, tells the story of a Korean-American adoptee, Mira, who met her birth mother for the first time in a Hong Kong hostel without a translator.

“Strangers’ Reunion was written as a response to finding my biological mother and figuring out I had three biological siblings,” says the former choreographer, who decided to quit dancing for filmmaking around eleven years ago, with the hope to tell her own story in her work.

“A lot of my movies stem from personal experiences, when I feel something so intensely that I can’t really figure out what it means and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

 “It was really a sort of cathartic experience because watching these two actors perform this dialogue [meeting the birth mother] and thinking deeply about the details of reaction and the layers of emotion they must be feeling was really helpful for me to sort of disconnect myself from the intensity of my feelings around it,” the 43-year-old says.

Growing Up as an Adoptee

Adopted in Korea when she was five-months old, Sargent grew up in a family with eleven children. Among her siblings, six were adopted and five have different kinds of disabilities.

Her adoptive parents’ dream was to have a big family. “My father is an only child and his parents died when he was young so I think that’s part of his love for his family, and for my mother, it just brings her joy,” the filmmaker says.

She has built a good relationship with her adoptive family. With a smile, she recalls their big house in the suburb of Chicago as loud and chaotic, full of kids fighting for attention, where every room was packed and they had big dinners together.

“It was unique but we had nothing to compare it to, so we didn’t think much about it. Several siblings also have disabilities, and we didn’t question that either, it is just a fact that they think differently and have different physical abilities,” she says.

In Sargent’s family, the fact that she was adopted is always visually clear and talked about. As she did not want to get into a lifelong search for her birth family, she only decided to contact them during the winter of 2018.

“It felt like the right time in life and I wanted to see if it was possible [to meet] before she [my biological mother] dies,” she says.

After a couple of months of extensive research, Sargent managed to ask her birth parents to meet her through her adoption agency, with a possibility of refusal on the other side.

Her birth family quickly got back to her. Among many other unnamable feelings, she remembers being “just totally shocked, totally stressed, feeling a lot of pressure for what that relationship should be”.

“It’s hard to fully be myself when I know my biological parents might have certain expectations of me, and I sort of just want to make them happy.”

Sargent filmed Strangers’ Reunion in Hong Kong just before flying to Busan, South Korea, to meet her birth mother and three siblings.

“I only spent two days with them but there were just so many emotions in those moments, so much fear about what we wanted to tell about ourselves to one another, and so much hope to be loved and to be forgiven,” she says.

“It was complicated because you want to know all the information and all the history but you wonder if you are ready to hear about it, or tell it from their perspective. I am still figuring it out,” she adds.

Continuous Exploration on Family Dynamics

Sargent does not know what will happen to her relationship with her birth family.

“I’d like to [go back] but I still feel a lot of stress around it. I am not sure when is the right time and I do not want them to feel stressed as well. Sometimes I feel that it is not helpful for us to try to build a relationship if it just makes us anxious,” she shares.

Since her adoptive family members require great care, with her disabled sister Anna, ageing parents, and another sister who has borderline personality disorder, she does not feel ready to rekindle her relationship with her birth family yet. 

As a filmmaker, she wants to keep working on themes of adoption, family and disability that matter to her.

“These stories are important to me and I am always trying to explore the details and intricacies of the situation through the characters I write. I feel that bringing dimensions to tropes helps inspire audiences to live differently in the world,” she says.

Edited by Charlie Chun
Sub-edited by Charmaine Choi

Verochod Punthong promotes Mon culture in Thailand through his museum, research, and a historical book to revive Mon heritage.

By Nutcha Hunsanimitkul

For more than 30 years, Verochod Punthong has been trying to let more people learn the history and culture of Mon, an ethnic minority in Thailand that contributes to the history of Southeast Asian countries but has been neglected.

Mon was welcomed by the Thai Monarchy to emigrate and settle down around the central part of Thailand for 200 years. Its customs have been embedded in Thai culture which can be seen in Buddhism, traditional musical instruments, housing style, and even the world-famous cuisine of Thailand.

“Mon brings us these proud cultures. Food like Khao Chae and Karyasand, or musical instruments such as Peepat Mon and Korng Mon are Mon cultures that most native Thai can be related to. But when it comes to Mon history, they barely recognize it,” the half-Thai-half-Mon says.

Punthong, 86, is now running the Chompoo Wek Temple Local Museum (พิพิธภัณฑ์พื้นบ้านวัดชมภูเวก) with the hope to shed light on the Mon culture.

“Thai historical scholars and Sukhothai University advised me to build the museum and display all Mon folk equipment including cooking tools, clothing, and Buddha statues I found in the temple so it would not be lost and people can come to learn about it,” he says. 

He believes those artifacts are messages from the past to young generations to appreciate their origin more.

“A few bricks from religious architectural ruins can tell us much information about the ages of Mon heritage and its strong relation with Buddhism.”

“All artifacts tell who we are and where we are from. I believe this museum can promote a realization of Mon history and pass down these precious memories to the next generation,” he says. 

The first call for his own origin

Restoring the worn-out Chompoo Wek Temple in Central Thailand about 20 years ago was the first calling for Punthong to trace his roots.

“My brother was the abbot of the temple at that time. It was really old and unstable that the monks could not live there. It was not about what I was supposed to do but it was a must, otherwise, it would collapse, ” he says.

Retired from his job as an engineer, he devoted all his time supervising the restoration of the temple. He became more appreciative of the Mon culture and hoped more people would also know more about it.

“Mon is a treasure of our community.”

Sharing some sweet memories of his dating life, Punthong reminds his close bond with Mon culture. 

“I rowed a wherry along the river to meet my wife when we were young. She also loves to cook Kang Matand, a Mon traditional dish, for our family, ” he says with a smile. 

Transportation by a wherry and a connecting livelihood with the river is one of the Mon cultures that is hardly seen in Thailand now.  

Through years of extensive research about Mon history, Punthong has gathered a great amount of evidence that Mon is more than a root of Thai culture but the main force fighting for Thailand in various wars throughout the history of Thailand.

“The scale of the Thai army was really small at the time. Mon people joined the Thai military and helped fight against enemies. Without them, Thailand would not have come this far. It is sad to see these memories of the Mon getting lost in our generation,” he explains. 

Last gift for the youth

The local museum has attracted local schools and tourists from different parts of Thailand to learn about Mon. It also collaborated with the Department of Tourism of Thailand as a tourist attraction spot. 

“I gave tours and narrations of the museum to school students and Thai-Mon communities coming from other regions of Thailand. We gained quite satisfied feedback from the public,” he says.

“I think it is important for them to see the value of ourselves and appreciate it more. It brings self-pride to them. But I am too old now,” he continues.

Turning 86 years old this year,  Punthong’s children remind him to take care of his health. He no longer tells the many interesting stories about the Mon and walks around with students now. Without his presence, many of the activities in the museum are now suspended.

“We have more than enough volunteers to help organize the activity but none of them have the insight into Mon history, ” he says.

Worrying about fake information that devalues Mon history and fewer local children are keen on their own culture, the half-Thai-half-Mon has been devoting his time to writing a Mon historical book, which he regards as “the last gift about the Mon for the younger generation”. 

“I believe people will not repeat mistakes and will become better people by learning history. I hope my book will bring pride to Mon people, ” he says.

Edited by Charmaine Choi
Sub-edited by Esme Lam

Join Jenny Quinton on a journey to Ark Eden in Mui Wo, where permaculture, organic farming, and environmental protection are the focus for a sustainable future.

By Lilou Margueron

Former primary school teacher Jenny Quinton is running a permaculture and eco-education centre in a remote site in Mui Wo where she spreads messages about environmental protection.

“Teaching about the environment in the classroom is not effective. If you are going to talk about the environment, you really need to be in the environment,” she explains.

Quinton applies this philosophy to the holiday camps she organises for children, where they can learn about the environment while doing various activities in nature.

“The parents realised their children are pretty deprived here in Hong Kong. They need to get outside.”

The project designer from England, who is in her 50s, hopes that her eco-education centre can also reach out to grown-ups whom she has met through various workshops, permaculture classes, or wellness activities such as yoga, dance and qigong—a practice based on Chinese medicine principles involving meditation, body exercises and controlled breathing.

Quinton also organises other activities such as organic farming, composting, waste management, ecological building and ecological restoration.

“We have teachers and students who usually want to educate themselves on ecology. We have companies who want their organisations to become more eco-friendly or do some services,” Quinton explains. 

Reaching the site, visitors are welcomed by farming spaces inspired by permaculture, a term derived from “permanent agriculture”, which refers to systems of agricultural growth designed to be sustainable and self-sufficient.

By applying permaculture ethics of earth care, people care and fair share, Quinton hopes that the centre she has now been running for 17 years can inspire people to care and respect all living creatures.

“We are saving the planet!” she says cheerfully, adding that Hong Kong needs more places like Ark Eden.

Starting from Scratch

The story of Ark-Eden began when Quinton landed in Hong Kong in 1989, on a backpacking trip with her partner, the father of her children. They discovered Lantau after a few weeks and fell in love with it.

They found a house which is about half an hour walk away from Mui Wo ferry pier. She is still living at the site, which is also the current site of Ark Eden.

In her first few years in Hong Kong, Quinton worked as a primary school teacher.

Witnessing fires in the hills started by grave sweepers every year, she joined green associations and has so far planted 37,000 trees, mostly in Lantau island.

In 2004, the Hong Kong government released a Concept Plan to develop Lantau island, including proposals to build a golf course, a logistics park, a theme park, a racecourse, and a spa.

The plan was heavily criticised by environmentalists who feared a negative impact on the island’s conservation. Moreover, local residents worried that it would only benefit overseas tourists and developers.

Quinton and her friends, who had alternative ideas about the island’s future, teamed up and conceived a blueprint of Ark Eden, which was originally designed to be a huge environmental centre in Mui Wo.

When her friend Neil Mc Laughlin, the architect of the project, died from a brain tumour, Quinton promised him she would bring the idea to fruition.

But starting the project from scratch was not easy. Also, she was a single mom at the time.

At first, she thought of creating Ark Eden in an abandoned rural school in Wo Tin village, but was refused the place due to her foreign identity.

“I went to the beach, and I cried for an hour. And I beat the sand. And then I remembered I have a house. I’ll use my house,” she recalls.

There is no developed route to get to Ark Eden, visitors have to hike for half an hour through a forest.

“I never imagined anyone would come this far, because everyone just thinks you need somewhere that is convenient. But the location is actually extremely good for everyone, especially for the kids, walking up and down…they get fit!” Quinton says.

To kickstart the project, Quinton relied on a network of experts affiliated with the Hong Kong green groups she was part of.

“I did not know how to do organic farming, so I invited them and saw what they did, and I learnt the skills through observation,” she says.

When Ark Eden started running in 2006, Quinton had to use her living room as a classroom, where sometimes up to thirty children would pile up to learn about the environment. 

Thinking Lantau’s Future

Quinton spends a lot of time thinking about Lantau’s future in light of the government’s development plans for the island.

The controversial Lantau Tomorrow Vision, which plans to build 1,700 hectares of artificial islands along the eastern coast of Lantau, is expected to start in 2026.

In a recent talk she held at a monthly meeting for people interested in environment-related matters, the former teacher presented a plan she wrote for a greener Greater Bay Area.

For her, it all depends on three pillars: environmental protection, eco-education, and regenerative tourism.

“Hong Kong is just this amazing city that is to be treasured, particularly Lantau and its landscape. It is an incredible place and the natural resources are undervalued,”

She hopes that Hong Kong can abandon the “old-fashioned, money is everything mentality” to focus on the long-term needs of younger generations.

“I think if you deeply care for children, then you have to care for the environment. Otherwise, that is really cruel for them,” she says.

Edited by Charlie Chun
Sub-edited by Charmaine Choi