Kimchi Mamas

Korean American women are not hockey moms for Palin

I was drinking my morning cup of Joe and checking in to my bloglines (man, I remember the days when I'd read an actual newspaper) this morning and came across this from Disgrasian, one of my favorite blogs. Disgrasian says Sarah Palin Not Hot Like Kimchi.

They were referring to this headline, The Palin Effect Stops at Koreatown from New America Media, which reports that Korean American women are NOT impressed with Republican VP choice Sarah Palin. It appears that conservative, evangelical Korean American voters are not aligning with the rest of American (read: White?) conservative, evangelical hoopla over Palin. Which makes me ask, why is that?

The article continues to talk about the draw of a female VP candidate to Korean American women.

The McCain-Palin team may be fighting hard for undecided female voters, but their efforts may be in vain among Korean American women. Those who haven’t made up their minds say Palin isn’t someone they can trust to advance women’s rights. In fact, they see her as taking opposing positions on the issues that matter most to them. She is pro-life, doesn’t care about the environment and supports prolonging the Iraq war.

I also thought this quote near the end of the article was interesting:

Even as it is, Korean Americans are among the least civically engaged Asian immigrants, according to a study published by the Asian Pacific American Legal Center of Southern California (APALC). Only 39 percent of Korean American registered voters in Los Angeles County voted in the 2006 general election, compared to 52 percent of all registered voters and 43 percent of all Asian American registered voters. It is estimated that more than 100,000 Korean-American voters live in Southern California.

I'm curious about your thoughts on this article. Most of the Korean Americans I personally know are not conservatives, evangelicals, nor do they live in Southern California (I just have a couple of friends in that area). So, we certainly do not fit the "profile" of the "typical" Korean American women they talked to in this article.

I think that Korean American women are a more diverse group than this article might assume. But regardless, what are your thoughts about this article?

(and I don't want to get into any political debate so the Palin question isn't so much what I'm after - though feel free to pontificate if you desire, but please be respectful)

--Jae Ran

What makes one Korean?

I saw this piece about Korean Mexicans and Korean Cubans on Racialicious, based on a recent article in the LA Times.

I am often really interested in the intersection of race, ethnicity, culture and nationality. What is "essentialist" in us and what is culture bound? This article about ethnic Koreans who grow up as Latino/a in Mexico and Cuba was so fascinating. Of course I think about Korean Americans - those of us who may be third or fourth generation ethnic Koreans but feel culturally "American" and may no longer speak Korean at all, or read it, have never eaten Korean food, have no knowledge of Korean history. It made me wonder about how many generations before the Koreans in Mexico had shed all ties to Korea. Was it after the second generation? And how kind of funny to me that in the LA Times story, these Korean-Mexican young people traveled to LA to learn more about their Korean heritage.

From the article:

Chae said that when he spoke to the young Korean Mexicans, he could tell they were surprised he spoke Spanish fluently. He in turn was struck by how strongly their identity was rooted. "They're real Mexicans," Chae said. "They have a real Mexican way of talking. They use a lot of doble sentidos (double entendres). Mexicans use a lot of double meanings."

It made me question what a "real" Mexican is. Mexican is a culture, it's a ethnicity, it's a nationality. As a mama, I think about these things a lot. My daughter just started high school and has already had one boyfriend and is considering her options for another. Both these teens are non-Korean. I know it is early to think of it, but if she ever has children some day, the likelihood of either of my kids having a Korean or part-Korean partner is somewhat small - and I've thought about the fact that my "Korean-ness" (both genetically and culturally) may be further "diluted" even more. I have to admit there is a small part of me that is a teeny bit sad about the idea of having grandchildren who may have no connection to their Korean heritage. Or even have an Asian American identity. (When my daughter was really young, she had a best friend who was biracial Japanese Hawaiian and white - and I secretly thought if they ever grew up and had kids, they'd still look Asian!)

On the other hand, I fully believe that there are a continuum of ethnic and national identities one can have, regardless of the "amount" as if we're using measuring cups to parcel out genetics.

So, readers, what makes someone Korean? Genetics, culture, nationality?

What are your thoughts?

-- Jae Ran

Hanging on by a thread

I thought this might be a good time to re-introduce myself to everyone since I’ve enjoyed reading the introduction posts by our new Kimchi Mamas and the re-introductions by some of the other KM’s. I went back through the archives and discovered that I’d never really written an introduction post when I first joined the blog, so here goes!

I am a mama to two hapa kids, a daughter who is 14 and a 10-year old son. I’m a social worker, and currently work at a non-profit agency. I will soon be re-entering the university as a Ph.D. candidate in Social Work at the “seasoned” age of 40! I joke that I’m making up for time, as I spent most of my 20s and half of my 30s starting and dropping out of college and 8 years of being a stay-at-home mom. Oh, do I wish I’d had a Kimchi Mama-type group back then!

I can only guess as to my origins of birth – I know it was likely somewhere in the Daegu area of South Korea, sometime probably in 1968. The reasons for my unknown birth information is that I was found abandoned on the Daegu City Hall steps in a box, wrapped in quilts, in February of 1970 and I appeared to be about a year old. According to the city hall records, I had a note with my name and birthdate pinned inside my jacket which would have made me 14 months if accurate. I was immediately whisked off to White Lily Orphanage, run by the Catholic Church, in the city. I lived at the orphanage for 5 months before being transferred to another orphanage in Ilsan (closer to Seoul) where I stayed just over a year before I was placed on an airplane and flown to Minneapolis, Minnesota where I was picked up by my adoptive parents. I was just under 3 years old.

Suzie Wong buys shoe at local shoe store

I had an irritating racialized moment this past weekend. Mr. HM and I were at a shoe store. Normally I don't go in boutique/specialty shoe shops, being more of a discount/DSW type of shoe buyer, but Mr. HM wanted to look at this place. On the 70% discount rack I found a pair of sandals at a great price and, of all things, in my size (5 1/2) - that combination is a rare sight. The salesperson who rings up my purchase is an older gentleman, white, Al Bundy-esque. He wants to know my name.

Bundy: And your name is . . ?
Me: Why do you need to know that information? I don't want to be on a mailing list.
Bundy: Oh! Well, in case you need to return the shoes.
Me: Why does that matter? I'll have a receipt.
Bundy: Well. . . can I just write in a fake name then?
Me, getting irritated: I don't care.
Bundy: Okay, how about if I put in Wong, Suzie.
Me, visibly pissed off: NO.
Bundy, flustered: Uh, oh, um, okay how about if I put your name as Mary then.
Me: NO.
Bundy, backpedaling furiously: Okay,  ma'am, I'll just put down that you paid in cash, and we SURE ARE pleased to have your business and I SURE HOPE you have a GREAT day.

(Meanwhile, Mr. HM is pacing behind me, worried I'm going to go off on this guy. To his suggestion that he enter my name as Suzie Wong, I SHOULD have responded, "Do I look like a Chinese prostitute to you?" I was thinking it but suffer from an ailment called, "IgnoreRacism-itis," learned over years of being told by my color-blind adoptive parents that racism is all in my own mind). Maybe I should have just responded, "Me no love you long time."

-- Jae Ran

Planet B-Boy

I just have to rave about a documentary I saw last weekend with my family. Planet B-Boy takes you into the world of modern day breakdancing battles. From the film's official web site:

With compelling characters and vibrant dance sequences, PLANET B-BOY is set in the international world of b-boying - the urban dance more commonly known as "breakdancing." Weaving between the vivid backdrops of Osaka, Paris, Seoul and Las Vegas, unforgettable images frame the intimate stories of dancer who struggle for their dreams despite being misunderstood by larger society and even their own families. An American dancer in Vegas looks for his big break; a Korean son seeks his father's approval; a twelve-year old boy in France confronts his family's racism - all the b-boy's lives collide in Germany when their skills are put to the ultimate test: the "Battle of the Year" finals, with crews from 18 countries vying for the title of world champion.

There's one scene where one of the Korean crews runs back to their room after eating at the school cafeteria and they're making rice in their rice cookers and talking about how they hope the kimchee doesn't run out and I just laughed and laughed. I know the feeling!!

Like the documentary RIZE!, I just really appreciated getting to know the people behind the phenomenon of the dance and it was interesting to see how dancers around the world interpret b-boying as both an athletic and artistic expression.

When I was in Korea last summer for the IKAA Gathering, we were treated to a performance by the amazing group Last For One which was one of the featured teams in this documentary.

-- Jae Ran

Pen, the mighty pen

First of all, just because Jae Ran won't do it herself, I am going to brag here about this Kimchi Mama's latest accomplishments:

Not only was she accepted into a PhD program, she was offered a fantastic job opportunity in her field.

She briefly mentions it (with links) in a post on her own blog.  CONGRATULATIONS, Jae Ran!

I am so proud of this Kimchi Mama... you'd think I had gotten a new job and will be a PhD candidate myself!

Small Size, Big Voice

Last week, I caught this news story and interview on my local NPR show. Mayda Miller performed at the AKConnection (a local Korean adoptee social network) annual party and I have her disk Elphine. I'm thrilled to see her gaining a following!  I love how much she informs her art with the consciousness of bing a Korean adoptee. -- Jae Ran

Mayda Miller is a St. Paul pop rocker with a new cd, "Stereotype." (Photo courtesy of Michael Bland, Sonic Matrimony)

Small Size, Big Voice

by Chris Roberts, Minnesota Public Radio
December 14, 2007

If you're a songwriter, being a Korean adoptee, a woman and only four-feet-ten inches tall gives you a lot to talk about. St. Paul musician Mayda's big sound belies her diminutive size.

St. Paul, Minn. — In a crowd, it's easy to overlook Mayda. But on stage, it is hard not to notice her.

"Just look at me," she says. "There's not a whole lotta Korean artists out there playing and writing their own material. And I'm teeny."

But while she may stand out in an ocean of white rappers and indie rockers, Mayda also has to resist being pigeon-holed. She thinks Korean adoptees tend to be typecast as American culture-obsessed, submissive and studious.

"When people look at me they think 'oh, she probably plays violin, classical piano or whatever,' and I don't," she says.

Mayda battles those preconceived notions in the title track of her new cd, "Stereotype."

Mayda is a St. Paul Central and University of Minnesota graduate. Over the years she has evolved from a guitarist and occasional back-up singer in an all female high school rock band to a solo artist and songwriter with a controlled, yet powerful voice.

"I feel like music just comes so easy," she says. "I have to do it. I don't have a choice."

"It's in my DNA," Mayda says, referring to her Korean background and the parents she's never met. It's not something she addresses directly in her music, but letting go or giving up something is a recurring theme, such as on the song "Quick as a Dove."

Last year, Mayda traveled to South Korea and played some shows for a Korean adoptee organization. She says it allowed her to claim her heritage while accepting the cultural gulf between her and all the natives who looked like her.

"It made me really proud," she says. "It really solidified who I am and who I'm trying to be. It definitely helped complete me, as corny as that sounds."

Listen to the podcast and read the rest of the transcript here.

Mayda's myspace page here.

Single motherhood in the Korean American community

Did anyone catch this article written by KoreAm Journal editor Corinna Knoll? I thought it was fascinating and have been thinking a lot about it. I know this might apply to some of our readers (as well as some fellow Kimchi Mamas).

Motherhood: Being Single and a Mom in the Korean American Community

KoreAm Journal, NCM Award Winner, Corina Knoll, Posted: Jan 30, 2006

There was a time when she would count the minutes like they were dollars, back when the days died too early and she was stretched paper thin, working a full-time job and raising two kids on her own.

The after-school program her daughters attended charged parents for every minute they were late. So each day she left her paralegal job, she faced a no-win battle on the jammed freeways of Los Angeles. Often, she would break down in tears amid the rush hour traffic, thinking about the money she would lose with every passing minute. She wondered how she had become a woman who cried in her car.

This wasn’t in her master plan. For a while, her life had played out the way she thought it was supposed to. She was married at 24 to a successful businessman and gave birth to daughters, Liah and Sarah. She didn’t worry about money, drove various luxury cars and shopped on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. She worked occasionally at home for her husband’s company, did housework and watched over her daughters’ schooling and extracurricular activities.

The rest of the article is posted here.

Even After 40 Years, It's Not Too Late

* I decided to cross post this from my other blog, Harlow's Monkey, to add some perspective about the dissolved adoption of Jade from her Dutch adoptive parents and because my comment on yesterday's post would have been too long for a comment box. One of the things that has been bantered about in the international adoptee circles is the neglect of the Poeterays to obtain citizenship for Jade. Another thing being discussed a lot is that Jade is "better off" without parents that clearly felt abandoning her again was appropriate. In this post, I discuss adoption disruptions and dissolutions based on my professional and personal experiences. --Jae Ran

People all over the world are talking about the return of an adopted Korean child by a Dutch diplomat and his wife. I've written about disruptions and dissolutions before, namely here and here. I think one of the aspects of this case that is alarming people is the fact that the girl was 4 months old at the time of the adoption and had lived with her adoptive parents for 7 years.

A disruption is when the child is returned before the adoption is finalized. Disruptions often happen after a child is placed in the home a few months, but sometimes in the case of international adoption, it can occur when the family meets the child and decides not to go through with the adoption.

Once an adoption has been finalized, if the parents "return" a child it is called a dissolution. Dissolutions always occur after the legal status of parent and child has been established in a court of law. In the United States, for parents to dissolve an adoption they have to voluntarily terminate their parental rights in court.

We often think of disruptions or dissolutions as being something that happens fairly soon after the adoption, perhaps within months or a few years. It's rare that we hear about an adoption dissolving 7 years later. But in my line of work, that's not unusual. I have on my case load two siblings who were in foster care, adopted, and re-entered care six years after the finalization. We hear about the disruptions that happen in China or Guatemala because with other prospective families traveling in groups together, it's going to be known. I want to know how many kids were adopted internationally and then years later when kids turn into teenagers (and normally get ornery and rebel), how many of those families dissolve with no one watching?

One of my frustrations has always been finding reliable statistical data on disruptions and dissolutions. In my earlier post "And even more about adoption disruptions and dissolutions" I asked for anyone who had reliable numbers to contact me. It turns out that the Department of Health and Human Services actually did keep track of the number of international adoption "disruptions" in 2006. According to this Newsweek article, "When Adoption Goes Wrong" there were 81 international adoption disruptions or dissolutions from 14 different states last year. Of course, we still don't know how many international adoptions have dissolved over the 50+ years of international adoption to the United States. Anecdotally, I know of several adult Korean adoptees who spent time in foster care.

Fighting the model minority myth

I’ve been missing in action here at Kimchi Mamas and Anti-Racist Parent (another blog I contribute to) lately. I’ve been incredibly busy since mid-summer. I’m working my regular 9-5, teaching a college course one night a week, presenting at conferences and preparing an application and studying for the GRE so I can apply to a doctoral program. All the while trying to keep my sanity as a mama to my two kids who are busy in their own after school and weekend activities.

Reading weigook saram's post made me think a lot about the model minority myth lead me to think a little bit about why I have this extraordinary drive (and some of my friends and family call it outright ambition) to keep pushing myself to do more. More and more seems my mantra lately. I’ve got everything a lucky person like me should need: a supportive family, a great education, a job that is rewarding, friends who understand why I’m running in circles all the time. So it’s during times like this that I stop myself to ask why I’m doing all this.

Obviously, a lot of it has to do with an inability (I promise, I’m really working on this!) to say no when I should. But it’s so much more than that. I’ve asked myself if I’m over-busy and over-ambitious because of the model minority trap. I’ve always felt insecure over not being the “model minority” because I was not super smart or super successful.

Growing up, all the images I had of Asian Americans were either 1) martial arts experts or 2) geeky dorks (like Long Duck Dong), 3) MIT-bound math or engineering whizzes or 4) over-sexualized and subservient Geishas.

I reveled in being the antithesis of the “model minority” throughout my twenties and early thirties. It was like, “If I don’t got it (model minority skills), flaunt it!” So I did.

I’m quite the late bloomer. I quit college to have kids and spent 8 years being a full time stay at home parent. I didn’t go back to school to finish my degree until I was 34. Now it’s like I can’t stop thinking about the next step, the next level. Is this part of a latent desire to tap into the model minority mindset I’ve been working so hard to fight all my adult years? Am I inadvertently becoming what I struggled against?

Unlike some of my Asian friends who grew up with Asian parents, super-success was never expected for me. My whole family is average in every way and even college was presented as a shrug of the shoulders. They look at me now like I’m working myself too hard. Yet some of my Asian friends share that they’re never good enough or successful enough for their parents. So it's interesting to me that now, getting close to the big 4-0, I'm finding myself trapped in this model minority myth even though it wasn't culturally part of my growing up experience in my family. Or, was it, by default? Even though my parents didn't raise me culturally as Korean or Asian American, I seem to have still absorbed it.

Any of you other Kimchi Mamas out there dealing with this? And how do I encourage my own kid’s successes without burdening them with the model minority expectations?

-- Jae Ran