When I was fired by the law firm Paul Hastings six days after my first miscarriage in April 2008, I responded with an angry email to the partners of my department and senior management. I pressed "All Associates" on the cc button, a recipient list nearing 1000, and attached a copy of the ridiculous non-disclosure agreement the firm had asked me to sign. Within an hour after I clicked "Send," I received an email from the editor of a legal blog Above the Law informing me that he had posted my email and attachment. Within a day, the post generated close to a thousand comments. I received hundreds of emails from people I didn't know and others I hadn't heard from in years.
When news of my email was circulating in the virtual sphere, I didn't think to explain it to my parents in New York. They did not use the internet and did not have a computer. I told them I was fired and explained the circumstances, but I did not tell them that I had sent a mass email. I wasn't sure if they knew what an email was. I told them in my simple Korean, "I told my boss that he shouldn't lie when he fires someone." But I did not explain that I may have burned my career. My risk-adverse parents grew up in a culture that expected employees to brew coffee and to run errands for their bosses. Would they understand?
When the story appeared in The Wall Street Journal a week later and a picture of my face appeared in dot matrix, I did not think much of it. My parents did not read The Wall Street Journal. A couple of months later, I learned that The New York Times had excerpted my email in one of its articles about lay-offs. My dad reads The New York Times religiously. I fretted. I wondered if I should pick up the phone and come clean. I waited for the phone to ring. They did not call and the day passed like any other.
Last week, the story re-surfaced. I received a call from a writer from The L.A. Times who wanted to know if I regretted sending the email. I told her no. When the story appeared on Monday, I received an email from a producer at the Today Show. He asked if I would fly out to New York that day and appear on their show on Tuesday morning. I declined, but agreed to appear by satellite.
On Tuesday morning, I awoke at 3:30 in the morning. I arrived at the studio a little after 4am. There, the make-up lady caked my face with make-up to help me appear more awake than I was. Then I sat in a dark room staring at a red light on the camera and spoke when I heard Meredith Vieira ask me a question through an ear piece. By 5:40 a.m., I was back in bed.
A few hours later, my phone rang. It was my mom.
"Shinyung... I heard you were on TV. What was that all about?"
I found myself blabbing in a rush. "Well, Mom, do you remember when I got fired after my miscarriage, and they lied about my work performance to claim that I did something wrong when I hadn't? Well, I had sent an email to the firm about it, and I was on TV to talk about the email."
My mom purchased her first computer last summer. My brother set up her internet access as well as email accounts for her and my dad. When my husband Jeff and I visited last July, she sat at her computer, her legs danging from the chair, and showed us the few emails my dad had received from his Masan High School alumni association along with Kr.Yahoo!, KBS, and a few other Korean sites my brother had tagged for her as her favorites. We then watched a few Korean clips together. Since our visit, she has sent me and Jeff periodic emails with short messages like "i want to see you again soon," "This morning we went to Manorhaven Park. Dad played tennis and Mom just walked," and "Have a nice long weekend."
So, when I told her about my email, she didn't ask, what's an email? She simply asked, "Oh, was that ok?"
I then quickly reassured her that I received an email from one of my current clients saying, "Good job!" and that I have been receiving writing projects and contract work since I was fired.
"What a good thing you spoke out," she said. "Of course you should speak out when your boss lies like that. We live in America. Why should we stay quiet when someone wrongs us? In America, you have to know how to speak up for yourself."
She asked how the TV show knew where to find me.
I said, "Well, it's been in the newspapers a little bit."
Then she wanted to know which papers.
When I mentioned The Wall Street Journal, she said, "The Wall Street Journal? You were in the Wall Street Journal?"
And then I said, "And the New York Times, too..."
"The New York Times? When did it come out? This week?"
I said, "Well, no, it was about eight months ago..."
"You were in the New York Times eight months ago?"
And then she giggled and sighed.
A day later, my mom called back. She wanted to know if I was stewing over the email incident. She advised me to relax and avoid stress since I was pregnant. I said, "No, I'm fine. It's been so long since I sent it."
"It's a good thing," she said, "that you got it off of your chest by sending that email. It's better to give them a piece of your mind than to walk away feeling wronged. That way, it clears your mind and you can move on with your life."
She then turned the phone over to my dad. He said that they had missed the Today Show that morning, but my sister-in-law had stopped by to show it to them online later that evening.
"You looked and sounded very good on TV," he said. "You did the right thing to speak out. There is no reason to stay quiet in these kinds of situations."
This incident makes me think about the ridiculous world I live in sometimes. Where my world is divided into two, the world my parents inhabit and then the rest. Where I am a Korean daughter in one, and myself in another. Where the effort of translating can sometimes feel like too much, and I pretend that I am floating invisibly.
Sometimes, these worlds clash together, and I am illuminated in their collision. And I think, maybe it's not so bad...
-Shinyung
