My Korean-American Life Defined By An Exhibit
“Ignorance is bliss” — the cliché expression everyone responds with when knowing too much information. We have all lived through situations in our lives where less is more, when knowing too much information hurts rather than when knowing too much deems itself as helpful. Is ignorance truly bliss, though? After the year I had, I really believed this idiom was true to its core. But after a three-week trip that changed my life, I question and doubt this expression, only to believe now that knowledge presents us with truth, power and identity.
I consider myself a second-generation Korean-American. Just like every other American kid, I spent my childhood watching America’s well-known television programs. I went to kindergarten and was able to go through all my years of education without any difficulty in speaking and learning English, as it has always been considered my first language. By middle school, English had become my favorite subject. I yearned for chances at any writing assignments and I never once doubted my love for books and literature. Although I grew up identifying myself as American, I also made an effort to know my Korean culture. I grew up bilingual, and for years I attended Saturday Korean school from 9am — 3pm, learning the culture and language. My parents always went to the video store to rent out children programs that were regularly watched in Korea. I always communicated with my parents Korean, even when it was difficult to. I was teased in elementary school for being different. I came home many nights after summer camp, crying and being angry with my mother, questioning and blaming my mother for my hardships.
Though I was well brought up in Korean language, I never once was discontent with the absence of Korean culture. I grew up accustomed to the American way of life. I grew up without curiosity of Korea, ignorant of the possibility of differences in the culture, and, most importantly, ignorant of how Korean culture could potentially help me find the missing piece of who I am. With that said, I have never been able to travel to Korea, much less out of the country, until this past summer.
Being in a foreign country for the first time, it was what everyone said it would be: unfamiliar, a culture shock. The skyscrapers and 30-plus floor buildings, the tight yet bustling streets — even the fashion trends and mannerisms were completely different from what I knew. I was able to explore many different areas of the country, condensing two months’ worth of a vacation into two exhausting, exhilarating weeks.
I was fortunate to explore major Art Districts in the districts of Seoul. Korea’s museums mainly comprised of modern or minimalistic art; but one museum that resonated deeply with me and my overall experience with Korea was the Heatherwick Studio exhibition in Daelim Museum in Seoul. This exhibit particularly stood out to me on many accounts. It begins by first introducing the process of thinking, how it creates a way for us to gather our facts, opinions and analyses and apply it in our lives. The second process is the making process — discovering new values and ideas and putting it into a creative form. The third process Heatherwick Studio incorporates into this display is the idea of storytelling, using the creativity to tell a story and to communicate them with emotions. He also added one final surprise process he calls “Spun — Hula!” which presents a tabletop-looking chair design that spins and moves according to the interaction, symbolizing everyone’s one-of-a-kind personality.
This interactive exhibition created a new dimension of my experience in Korea. I realized my first trip to Korea was my first huge step in figuring out who I am and how my story will end. This process, in many ways, summed up my process of accepting and loving both cultures that I am so lucky to have. This reminded me of W.E.B Du Bois’s analysis of Arthur Symon’s poem in The Souls of Black Folks:
In this merging he wishes neither of the older selves to be lost… He simply wishes to make it possible for a man to be both a Negro and an American, without being cursed and spit upon by his fellows, without having the doors of Opportunity closed roughly in his face.
This sums up how I now identify myself; not wanting to forget my roots, and that both cultures have something to teach. Identifying to both cultures is who I am. Ignoring one of my cultures would have me missing this amazing part of my identity. I realized that ignorance is not bliss. Knowing ultimately brought me my bliss. The ignorance I chose to carry before would have resulted in a loss of self that I am now so glad to have.
