Racism: from a Southerner to a Korean, and from a Korean to a Southerner
My parents left Korea for America in order to have a better life. I grew up in the bible-belt region of Jacksonville, Florida and attended school in a Christian Baptist Independent-Fundamentalist academy (where every Sunday, you’d hear someone from the congregation holler out “yee-haw” and “A-men” during sermons). I had to report to the principal’s office whenever I got in trouble to receive a paddlin’ and attended chapel every Thursday.
Mind you, my parents are 1st generation Korean that decided to move (for reasons only God knows) to such a place. What I failed to mention is that I was probably the only “Asian-looking” person within a 100-mile radius and naturally, encountered heavy racism on a daily basis — for years. I’ve heard people call me “Jimmy-Chang” with an Asian accent; people would blather gibberish and ask me to translate what they had apparently said in Chinese; I would be asked why my eyes were slanted, and much more with variation. No doubt that I felt isolated and ultimately coerced into thinking that I needed to change something about myself because I was the problem. I was able to empathize with W.E.B. DuBois when he said,
“…it dawned upon me with a certain suddenness that I was different from the others… shut out from their world by a vast veil…”
It wasn’t until I moved to Georgia that I’ve experienced genuine culture shock seeing other people that had “slanted eyes” just like mine (If you didn’t know already, Georgia has a great population for Korean people). After some time, I was slowly being cultured. One way is how my parents took me to a Korean art exhibit where I gazed upon an art piece that had completely taken me aback — The Sansindo.
Perhaps it was due to the accumulation of mixed feelings of moving to a new state and a relatively significant alleviation of racism, but it felt as though this piece was summoning my other consciousness, the Korean consciousness. Initially, the tiger reminded me of myself as it is my zodiac sign. But then I decided that it was no coincidence that the tiger is the symbol for Korea and, likewise, I needed to reflect myself in that same orientation. I felt compelled to learn the language properly along with its culture and, after doing so, felt at peace.
My reason for mentioning the struggles I endured is that it got to the point where I internalized these racial slurs as normality and began to wonder why everything was so different for me in terms of treatment based on how I looked. I had this double-consciousness of knowing that I am positively American and eventually, positively Korean. It just never occurred to me that I would be facing a different kind of racism on a complete different front — my relatives.
Just to be brief, my relatives came into town for a reunion. To give background, I haven’t met some of these relatives as they have never came to visit me, nor I them. Yet most of our conversations didn’t seem like conversations at all. In fact, they were lecturing me about how I have an obligation to visit Korea. It seems off-putting, but I was feeling the same type of racism by those white people but through my relatives, as if to tell me that I’m “too American.” I was told that I was too independent for my own good; I didn’t give enough money to my mother every month (even though I’m a broke-ass college student); and I don’t know enough Korean folklore.
I don’t, by any means, disregard all these things that are supposed to make me “more” Korean. The fact is, I didn’t grow up in Korea. I grew up in America. It is unfortunate that I was faced with racism growing up, but I am glad that I had an epiphany with Sansindo. I didn’t eat Miyeok Gook on my birthdays, I had cake. I didn’t play soccer in middle school, I played football. I certainly did not learn calculus by the 6th grade, I was reading The Hobbit.
Coercion is not a means to a righteous end. It was not right for my then-fellow Floridians to have me feel guilty to be Korean, and it’s not right for my fellow relatives to coerce me into delving deeper into the Korean culture more than I should care for. I’m an American and a Korean. It is unfortunate that we still have bigots breathing violence through racism in this country, but I also do not condone the actions of Koreans enforcing their rituals either. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned with Sansindo, it’s to find peace with yourself. I’ve found mine and I don’t need anyone telling me differently, thank you kindly.
