Having grown up in a tiny suburb of Connecticut, my discovery of KoreAm Journal years back was a godsend. Thanks to this magazine I'm becoming more and more Korean with each new issue.
Truth be told, I couldn't tell you who the current Korean president is, but I do know that the DJ for Linkin Park is Asian and that all Korean girls, when they turn 14, join the LPGA. I admit I skip any article that features black and white photos, lest I actually learn something truly important about my culture, but who would've thought years back that I would know all about some Korean guy in Akron who robbed a Jiffy Lube.
Still, my parents make it a habit to always chide me about not being able to speak Korean. I remind them that I'm the way I am because they made such a concerted effort to Americanize me growing up. I remind them that they took me to the all-white congregational church in town on Sundays and only spoke English to me in the house (except when they were livid with me). For some reason they have no recollection of this.
After accepting the offer to write a column for KoreAm, I visited home (to do my laundry and attempt to steal the unused TV in their basement) and brought an issue to show my parents.
"You writing for KoreAm Journal? What do you know about being Korean?" my dad scoffed.
"It's no thanks to you," I said, then turned to the last page and shoved it toward him. "Look, how come you never told me any traditional Korean folktales growing up? This is all French to me."
My dad clapped me on the back.
"OK, son, here's an ancient Korean folktale for you. One day, there was a little bunny standing in a peaceful meadow. He looked up at you and said, 'Why don't you get a real job?'"
- Dave Yoo