
Edward Yoo Pokropski and the Greatest Adoption Story Ever Told
Writer Angela Wong Carbone talks to the comedian about identity politics, dark humor, and the open-ended story of his life as a Korean adoptee
Comedian Ed Yoo Pokropski dives into his experiences as a Korean adoptee in his latest solo show.
Janet S. Kim
Words by Angela Wong Carbone
Even before his solo show, Case 84: Adopted in the U.S.A., New York-based comedian Edward Yoo Pokropski was accustomed to speaking about himself at length. And it’s not because of his humble-yet-welcoming confidence, his years as an executive and founder of Asian Comedy Fest or his role as a producer for NBCUniversal. The reason? His name. Though his surname might usher forth notions of a long lineage of Polish ancestry, Pokropksi is actually one of the more than 110,000 international Korean adoptees (the largest group of transnational adoptees in the country) estimated to be living in the United States today. Beginning after the Korean War, waves of Korean orphans entered the states through adoption agencies and religious organizations, eventually settling in the greatest numbers in areas of the midwest, such as Minnesota.
The media and entertainment industry has often gravitated to the monumental stakes of adoptee stories. Films such as Lion depict epic journeys to reunite families. Others, like less-than-subtle Orphan, demonstrate how villains might originate. And of course, the salient Blue Bayou, written and directed by Justin Chon, centers around the political blindspots of the international adoption process when its protagonist, a Korean adoptee, is threatened with deportation. The canon of stories understandably focuses on these extremes, but it seldom explores a more, quotidian middle ground: the pop-culture infused non-nuclear situation of a supportive single mom and divorced, microaggression-lobbing dad.
This disparity, and a love for standup comedy, motivated Pokropski to write and perform his new show called, Case 84. Expertly balancing moments of dark comedy and emotional profundity, Pokropski calls upon pop culture’s most infamous orphans, Philadelphian society, and the legacy of Ken Griffey, Jr. to usher in a sometimes sobering, often moving, and consistently engaging tragicomedy.
I sat down with Pokropski after last week’s show (running again at 7 p.m. on June 23 at Caveat in New York and just announced at Philadelphia Fringe Festival at 7:30 p.m. on Sept. 22 at Asian Arts Initiative) to talk about life, his experiences in the Korean adoptee community, his creative inspiration and how he hopes to embrace this community through reexamining biting childhood memories, one show at a time.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Angela Wong Carbone: I loved Case 84. It sort of felt like a lesson in empathy or perspective. I’d never [questioned the adoptee narrative in the media]. You mentioned Orphan, which was definitely on one end of the spectrum of representation. But when I think of Korean adoptee stories, or adoptee stories at large, I think of Blue Bayou, difficult and dramatic stakes, and people like Adam Crasper.
What exactly do you want to change about the perception of Korean adoptees through this narrative? Or, is it perhaps about presenting another version of this story that isn't necessarily all bad or all good?
Edward Yoo Pokropski: No community is defined by just one story or even a few stories.
The uplifting adoptee stories are great and I’m glad they exist and, and they do give a good touchpoint. And then ones, like Adam Crasper’s, are very heightened on one end [of the spectrum] without getting into the reasons why that was happening, [but examining how it] affected his life.
I’ve been talking about being adopted for so long, since as far back as I can remember. I often get the same questions when it comes up that I’m adopted, whether it’s meeting new friends or going on a job interview or even making a dinner reservation.
I wanted to understand why I was getting these questions and have some fun and tie it back to media and pop culture[‘s representation of adoptees]. I wanted to approach my story in a way that was true to myself. And true to the idea that it’s a mixed bag in a lot of ways and on either end.
Maybe this is one of the few ones that has infused a bit of, “Isn’t this funny? Isn’t this ridiculous?” That’s the one thing I think I was missing from the Korean adoptee story, is the humor aspect, and I understand why you don’t always want to fit the humor in there, but having the standup background, how can I not laugh at my own experience if I’ve come to that point and feel comfortable to do so?
I understand why you don’t always want to fit the humor in there, but having the standup background, how can I not laugh at my own experience if I’ve come to that point and feel comfortable to do so?
AWC: I kept thinking about this quote by George Bernard Shaw: “The power of comedy is to make people laugh. And when they have their mouths open and they least expect it, you slip the truth in.” Your show does an amazing job of balancing the humor of certain situations. It teeters on this line of hard truths and well-timed, self-aware comedy. How did you negotiate that?
EYP: It’s an ever-evolving process. A lot of people have asked me, “Have I recorded it yet?” And I get it. We’re in a digital age, we’re on social media.
I think for stuff like this [it’s necessary to be] with a live audience and feel their energy and know what they’re responding to. It lets me find those moments to push the comedy a little bit further or maybe dial it back when I feel like a crowd’s really engaged.
The other thing I was trying to do at the beginning of the show is set the tone. It’s very divisive when I drop this information on people and it splits the crowd. Sometimes people like to laugh uncomfortably, sometimes there’s dead silence. But I do it to try to [say], “This is the ride we're about to go on, so let’s do this together. Let’s be ready.”
If anything, [I’m expressing that we have this collective] thought or idea about adoption, and there must be a reason for it. And lo and behold, it is the media we consume and how we shape our thoughts and understandings.

Ed Yoo Pokropski has performed his show "Case 84: Adopted in the U.S.A." in New York and is set to perform in his hometown of Philadelphia in the fall.
Courtesy of Ed Yoo Pokropski
AWC: You mentioned you traveled and performed this show 18 times, [it premiered at Caveat last July and it has changed since then]. Does the reaction change based on where you are? I’d imagine it’s very different performing this show in your hometown Philly than it is performing in the Bay Area. Have there been any surprises along the way and how has the reaction changed in the different places that you've performed this show?
EYP: I would say the biggest difference is like a generational difference. When it comes to the older generation, like my age, the older adoptees, they love all the [pop culture] references. Anything from the ’90s and some of the darker stuff they really like. The younger generation is more in tune to the microaggressions [I talk about]. Whereas some of the older [generation] need a little bit more explanation as to why something might feel a little weird in the moment. Even if they’ve experienced themselves and then later they’re like, “Oh yeah, that was kind of weird. I felt weird about it, but I didn’t realize why until now.”
The one joke that has crossed [both demographics is the jokes about my dad]. Every single person seems to have gripes with their dad, because when I make that joke, young, old, adopted, and everyone seems to laugh, even though it’s a little bit of a dark joke.
That’s the thing, there is this pressure for adoptees to go on that search. But to be perfectly honest, no one should feel like they are a failure or that they missed something or they’re lacking because they haven’t searched.
AWC: I thought a lot about the parent relationship and how your parents handled cultural engagement, how much that was or wasn’t in the conversation.
Was that ultimately what drove you to go to Korea? All these narratives impress upon us that [going] is a rite of passage. But it seems like, with the exception of certain things that your dad said, the environment you grew up in was very supportive. You had another adoptee as a sibling, so it feels like you had community. What was it that drove you to step through that half-open door?
EYP: I think the biggest driving thing was getting to New York and experiencing other Asian American communities. Yes, my mom was very supportive and [I had my brother]. Our thing that we shared was growing up in the same household and being in Philly and having a single parent. We diverged for a while in terms of how we felt about being adopted. For the longest time, he was trying to get more involved well before I was.
It wasn’t any of that that really made me want to go. I think it was getting to New York and feeling more confident in myself, maybe more confident in figuring out next steps or trying to be a little bit more of a voice of myself in terms of being an Asian American in the media.
That might not have ever happened [if I didn’t come here to New York.] That’s the thing, there is this pressure for adoptees to go on that search. But to be perfectly honest, no one should feel like they are a failure or that they missed something or they’re lacking because they haven’t searched. It just so happened that I hit a moment in my life that I was ready, but if that moment had never come, I might have found another way to settle it.
It was timing. But it wasn’t the goal of mine when I got to New York to be like, “I’m gonna find a way to make it back to Korea.” I’m glad it happened that way and I’m glad it wasn’t any sort of external pressure of someone being like, “Wow, you haven’t gone, what are you, insane?”

Ed Yoo Pokropski first felt the pull of going back to Korea when he experienced other Asian American communities in New York.
Courtesy of Ed Yoo Pokropski
AWC: Like you mention in your show, there are all these movies that represent this big mounting pressure to take that on.
EYP: There isn’t that much [media] exposure to adoption, and [often when we do get it], it falls either on the good or bad end of the spectrum.
And it usually ends with the reunion. People love to hear a good story. You know? Myself included. So that’s where that pressure comes.
AWC: I have one last question. Would anything have changed if your trip had ended differently?
EYP: If it had ended differently, then I would be different as well. Sometimes people have asked me at the end of the show, “What if this happens or what if that happens?“ I'm always like, “Well then that’ll be an addition to the show, maybe it means the show is over, that’s okay.“ I’m okay with knowing that nothing’s ever the end. So I’m just trying to stay open to the idea that this is the show and this is where I am now, but that doesn’t mean it won’t evolve in the future.
The biggest next step for me with the show is just continuing to try to keep consistently doing it and reaching audiences.
I wanted it to be a beacon to other adoptees. I’m trying to think of my show like [walking in on] two friends hugging. You don’t know what’s going on, and they see you and then they welcome you in. I want this show to support adoptees while [inspiring] other people to support as well, so that everyone finds something about the show that they really resonate with and enjoy.
Published on June 22, 2023
Words by Angela Wong Carbone
Angela Wong Carbone (she/her) is a decorated actor and writer. Her writing has been recognized by AT&T Hello Lab, Hillman Grad’s mentorship program, The Gotham, Slamdance and others. Raised in New York by an immigrant Chinese mother and Italian American father, Wong Carbone’s personal curiosity toward identity saturates her writing and she has contributed to Eileen Kelly’s Killer and a Sweet Thang and Lulu Gioiello’s Far Near. As an actor, Wong Carbone has starred in NBC’s Chicago Med, AppleTV+’s WeCrashed and IFC Films’ Resurrection. In 2020, she was selected for the 19th annual ABC Talent Showcase. Wong Carbone holds a degree in architecture from Cornell University and makes a mean lasagna.