Defending the Lunch Line and Celebrating Love: A Father’s Toast to So-Young
So-Young Kim came from the most rural part of South Korea. The average age of the people in her village, where she was from, was seventy-two years old. Many of them had lived through Korean War, which meant that they still had an extreme saving habits including rewashing zip-lock bags and using it until the logo almost disappeared. She went to a school that combined both elementary and middle school. Still, there were less than 100 students in the whole school. So-Young’s fourth grade class had four girls and five boys. She was one of the very few who lived with both of their parents. Most of the students were raised by their grandparents whose parents had divorced and sent their children to live in the countryside of Korea.
The first time I met So-Young, it was at my daughter’s soccer practice. It was cute seeing my daughter and So-Young play together. I thought it was nice of my daughter to include a girl who doesn’t speak English well to be her friend.
So-Young became the foreign exchange student who lived with my family. One day, the principal of the middle school had asked our family if we could be her host family. I was a bit shocked because this is something that I never wanted to do or thought about doing. But my daughter was really excited about it, and, since she was the only daughter, my wife and I thought it would be a nice idea to have So-Young live with us for a bit.
Everything seemed to work okay other than weird food that she would bring from her Korean church time to time. My wife hated it, and I tried not to care. It smelled similar to an Indian food that my coworkers bring but slightly worse. I felt bad because she reads our facial expression quite well. I’m just as good at reading facial expressions because I grew up with two older sisters full of drama.
One day at school, So-Young and my daughter were both in seventh grade. So-Young just looked like she had the most annoying and frustrating day. I didn’t feel like asking because that is not what dad’s like doing. I don’t know how to carry conversations like that, but thanks to my daughter who is just like my wife she started talking about what happened at school.
My daughter tells me that So-Young fasted her lunch today, and I was startled to hear something so unexpected. She said that So-Young told two big eighth grade boys that she will not let them cut in front of her at lunch line. This reminded me of a story that So-Young once told me. Back when So-Young lived in Korea, when she was seven or eight, she brought thirty cents to the small police station because she found it on a playground or something. This little thing won’t stand it when something is not right in her justice system. I asked my daughter about who those boys were, and she told me that they were the two Korean boys that were in the basketball team.
I thought to myself, “These Korean boys don’t know how to treat a woman with respect.” I have been to the Middle East for business trips, and it was such a weird feeling to walk out of the elevator before woman. I sense something similar like that even here in the U.S. whenever I meet an Asian lady that just arrived to the United States. It’s strange, and it’s a very uncomfortable feeling.
I asked my daughter, “So what happened next?” So-Young apparently told the boys, “Um… No, this is America.” Regardless of what she said, then, the boys just pushed her off and cut across the line to eat lunch first. Oh, that pissed me off! What do they think that they are? I will teach those scumbag fobs that their behavior is not acceptable here. My daughter, then, goes to tell me that So-Young just stormed past the cafeteria line with a tray full of nothing and slammed it against the table where she usually sits and left to the bathroom.
As any great father does, I went to the school next day. I went during my work lunch break, which happened to align with their recess time. There were a few boys that were playing by the outdoor basketball court, and I saw the two Korean boys.
I called them over waving my hand. “Hey, the two Korean boys, come here.” They came right to me. “Did you guys cut in front of my daughter at the lunch line yesterday?”
They answered timidly, “No.”
“I’m talking about the little Korean girl in the class below you guys.”
“Um… I think we did.”
The bell had rung to remind everyone that the class will start soon. The kids were all going back to class.
“I can hear that. You look at me,” I said sternly. “I’m the nicest man that you will meet all day. Today could be your last day at school, and you would need to tell your parents who spent thousands of dollars to send you, fuckers, that you are kicked out of this school. I’m, also, the nicest man in the school board.”
Their eyes could only stare at the floor after that. “We’re really sorry,” said one of the guys while being choked on his own spit. I think he sensed that I could crush his skull with one of my hands.
“I don’t need your apology. Say it to my daughter. If I don’t hear back from her that you apologized to her, I will be here on Friday.”
“Yes, sir. We will,” replied the other shithead this time.
Then, I walked off to go back to work wondering when the boys will apologize because I know that they will. When I came home that day, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, but no one gave me any updates on what happened next. Actually, I only found out ten years later when my family were having dinner with So-Young and her boyfriend. We were at a hibachi place, and half-drunk So-Young, now twenty-three, tells her boyfriend this story proudly in her own way.
“And the next day, those boys must have felt bad or maybe my homeroom teacher talked to them or something, but they came to me in defeat both looking at their feet and gave me sincere apology.”
Then, my daughter jumps in, “Wait, So-Young, that happened? Have I never told you that my dad went during his lunch break to talk to them?”
“What?” So-Young reacted tuning quickly to look at me with her small but bulging eyes.
Then, my daughter urged me to tell all of them the story from my side. It was really fun telling the story after ten years and now giving a speech about it. I had a lot of stories to choose from, but I wanted to pick one where both So-Young and I look good.
During that dinner, So-Young told me that it wasn’t her first time going against a Korean boy. She said that she fought with another eight grade Korean boy when she was a tiny fourth grader. She can’t even remember the reason now, but she got picked up and thrown against a tree trunk. This crazy girl sees eighth grade boys, twice as big as her, like there are shorter than her. So-Young, in her twenties, is still tiny, but what consumes her is not a fear of defeat but fire for what is good and right.
I don’t know why I think of these things as I sit here and watch her make her vows with the love of her life. Maybe, I’m happy that she is marrying an American boy. I like this guy. She would never need to fight him. He seems to get the mantra “Happy Wife, Happy Life.” Earlier the man learns that lesson, he will be called a wise man who have lived a good life. I want So-Young to have a good life. I don’t want to ever witness again So-Young washing the zip-lock bag. I threw that zip-lock bag away the first-time I saw her doing that. This new chapter will be full of great stories of victories. I want her to hang out with friends her own age and make memories full of young people adventures, maybe go on a road trip in an American muscle car.
And finally for my son-in-law, he better understand that she is my daughter, may not be by blood but by spirit. She’s a fighter, but she fights in a way that will move the stronger person to move in her favor. I hope that she will continue to move you to do amazing things in this world, and that you will feel the most powerful when you are defending her and protecting her even in the secret. Something takes ten years to find out how the stories turned out, but when you do it for love it will all come out to be a great and wonderful life.
