Kimchi Mamas

Did you let your voice be heard today?

I am sitting at my desk, mere minutes before I will start to obsessively check all the news websites.  (Okay, well, NOT all.)

I have never been this involved or interested in US politics... I am not a citizen, they don't let me vote, so why should I care...?  Right?

This time, I do care.  Not only because things have gone to hell in a handbasket the last 8 years, economy is fucked (not completely but fucked enough), and I do not believe in the social atmosphere that has been rampant lately, but because I now have a child who is an American.  For her, I care.  For her future, I will participate.

This is for you, Little Nabi.  I want you to grow up to be proud of your country.  I want you to be able to say, "I was three years old when history was made."

And for all of us.  I want Asian Americans to raise our voices and start being heard.  If not for us, for our children.

-Mama Nabi

Aural Profiling of Oral Nuances

Once, it seems so long ago now, when I was still married to my ex, he noted my sister's distinct accent.  He wanted to know, "Is that a Korean accent?"

I said, "No.  Not really."

He shrugged and said, "Well, I'm glad that you don't have that accent.  She sounds weird sometimes."

How do you mean, I wanted to ask but I didn't.  Perhaps because I knew what he meant and didn't want to get into a futile argument.

As a small town midwesterner, my ex has no appreciation for an aural sensation of hearing his language roll off a foreigner's tongue.  To him, foreign accents are a thing to be ridiculed.  He doesn't understand when a woman sighs upon hearing a French accent.  He hears Italian accent and imagines a dark haired lout who wines and dines women more smoothly than he. 

And he would hear Korean accent and breathe a sigh of relief that his wife does not sound like that.

Love, language

Saranghae...

I feel awkward saying those simple three syllables to the one person I love with all my heart: my daughter.  I love you.

No one has ever said, "Saranghae" to me.  Sure, my mom would write something to that effect, "Sarang-hanun" - whom I love - in the beginning of letters or cards.  Those awkward words were never uttered for me, not in those words.

And as I haven't heard any more about that Korean immersion school possibly opening up here in Minneapolis/St. Paul area, I am starting to panic a little.  Will she grow up without knowing any Korean because her mommy is one linguistically lazy lamebrain?   

You are me and we are all together

(...although I am sure I am not the walrus.

Sorry about The Beatles reference - couldn't help myself.)

Despite all the country-hopping, losing whole sets of friends at a time, and relocating so many times that I don’t even know how many more hands I need to borrow to be able to count them all on fingers, I don’t fare well with changes.

I am a nostalgia-monger. I spend more time missing the old ways and trying to figure out how on earth I will get used to the new ways. I suppose it might be an immigrant syndrome as well; in order to miss the “old country” less, one sometimes has to hang on to the motherland’s traditions

However, our new look on Kimchi Mamas is fabulous.  We are indeed spicier.  We feel rejuvenated.  We didn't even outsource; we used our own.  We have been adding new voices.  And, yes, we will burn your tongues.

Ah...but, I am an old dog.  My ability to learn a new trick depends on whether there's a fresh strip of bacon dangling in front of me as a reward.

Racism within us

It's so unlike me.  I mulled.  Mulled before reacting.  So please take that into account as you read what may seem to some of you as "overreacting" or "oversensitive".

Let's start from the beginning.

I won't deny that I had witnessed racial or ethnic bigotry before I came to the States, in my international boarding school, where there were kids and teachers from 40+ different countries.  The subtle ways how some of our white teachers seem to be kinder to other white kids.  Or the way the Indian teachers seem to favor the Indian kids, or the winking back and forth that went on as they spoke in Hindi to each other.  I get it.  People do tend to favor those who are more like them, be it skin color, race, culture, or even language.

However, it was not until I came here in 1989 and watched Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing that I even had an inkling about the black vs. Korean issues.  And even then, I had no full understanding.  I do remember feeling more mortified that Spike Lee had chose to "mock" Koreans, dismayed that "my" people were portrayed as "comical caricatures" than being concerned about the possibility of racial tensions between blacks and Koreans.

How far would you go?

A former co-worker of mine is a Korean Catholic nun.  A sister.

I am not religious.  I may be faithful but I am not religious.  However, I do have fondness for tradition, rites, rituals, and healthy sense of pride, fall, sins, and punishment.  And I had hoped to some day become a nun, not as a religious vocation but more as a social and spiritual one, when I grow up.  Of course, my mother being a Korean protestant would never allow me to step inside a catholic church. 

Sister S stopped by last week to see if I would be interested in joining a support group run by her church.  Apparently the women in the group are like me: first generation Korean immigrants who were married to white men and are now divorced. 

Her church also provides a Korean language school for little ones like my Little Nabi. 

Searching for Mr. Kimchi

I grew up in Korea until I was 9 years old.

I didn't do much dating back then.  I guess I have come to a full circle since... I'm not doing much of that now.

While I was in an international boarding school in India, I did initially have crushes on the older Korean boys.  I was in 5th grade.  The boys?  They were in 12th grade.  Yeah... didn't have much of a chance of landing either of those Korean boys.

There was one Korean boy in my class.  I should fully disclose that he did ask me out and I did say no.  In 6th grade.  Not because he was Korean, but because he wasn't my type.  Like I had a type back in 6th grade.  Hah.

In college?  I had a little thing with a Korean-American boy, 2 classes above me.  He was a man-whore promiscuous and had a thing with a few other girls.  When I found out, I was crushed.  Although, that didn't stop me from keep trying.

Psst... we are NOT identical

There is a Korean children's song about things that are identical to each other... like chopsticks.  I can't remember the rest of the song; as I get older, my memory fails me more often than not.

I live in a state where I have often met adults who, until they came to the Twin Cities, had never seen or met a person of color.  Not in real life.  I knew a guy who speculated that there *might* have been a Jewish family down the block... but he couldn't be sure.  So this happens all too frequently for me, although I've learned to discreetly roll my eyes and restrain myself from biting their heads off, and I am sure this has happened to some or many of you as well: a gasp and a forefinger pointed right at my head, accompanied by squeals and "Oh! My! GOD!!!!  You look JUST like [insert any random Asian celebrity's name]."

Yes, the resemblance is uncanny... really.

Usually, if the Asian celebrity happens to be a beautiful woman (haven't been compared to a beautiful man yet... but I'm sure it's coming), the ill-mannered ignoramus will wait for my gratitude.  Of course, in the beginning, I used to say, "Um.  No, I don't think so."  That only fueled more finger pointing and jabbing in the air for emphasis, "Yes, YOU DO!"  Worse yet, he/she will sometimes recruit innocent bystanders into confirming his/her erroneous conclusion. 

Do you know how a caged monkey feels like?  I do.  At times, I feel as though I am a circus freak as random strangers gawk at my face, freely dispensing scrutiny and analysis.  I almost expect someone to lift my phantom tail to examine my hiney as they do at dog shows.

I FUCKING HATE IT.  And no, I will not thank that bloody hick from god-knows-where for telling me I look like someone whom I absolutely do not resemble.  I will not congratulate him/her for actually KNOWING an Asian celebrity's name.

My kingdom for a vote

Although I have lived in the States since 1989, I am not able to vote.  I pay my taxes, I am gainfully employed at a state-run institution, however loosely I use the term "gainfully", I obey the laws, and I sign local petitions asking to change this or that legislation.  However, as a mere Permanent Resident, I cannot cast my vote in an official election.

I could, if I really wanted to, give up my Korean citizenship.  After all, it's not like I live there or have participated in any of the Korean elections since I became eligible to vote.  To be honest, and I am blushing, I couldn't readily name the last two presidents of Korea.  I don't even know which party stands for what. 

And to be quite blunt and perhaps a little self-decrecating, I haven't the faintest when it comes to actual politics here - not the rhetoric and TV ads, but the real politics beyond the talk, the back-stabbing, the mud-slinging... you know, politics as usual.  All I know is what I believe and I believe in a better future for my daughter, Little Nabi, who is, for better or for worse, an American citizen.

Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll: Things I did not learn from my Korean parents

And the answers were:

"Does not exist."
"Try them and you'll get an ass-whooping."
and "Does Patti Page count?"  Respectively.

The last part was from my mom, not my dad.  Thank goodness for small favors.

I don't know what it was like growing up as Korean-Americans, but when I went to an international school, almost all the Korean kids at our school were so well-behaved.  I am sure it pained some of them that I, a fellow Korean, was notorious for behaving badly.  Just as it pained me to see them labeled as "goody-two-shoes"...