New American

I originally wrote this for my Paul & Daisy Soros Fellowship application. I didn't get it, but I still like what I wrote.

~ 🌷 ~

My early memories are marked by frequent drives into the jam-packed streets of Koreatown, Los Angeles, where I ate red bean buns and read books in a little corner store while my mom finished her work shift. I swept my school library of all the Roald Dahl and Lemony Snicket books. I loved the stories of kids like me adventuring on their own, fighting evil, and beating all odds with their wit and bravery.

I didn't realize growing up that my mom was one of those kids. She lived on a farm in the most rural part of South Korea with five siblings and a father who had a gambling addiction. She was the cleverest in school and also the most physically frail, and got bullied for it. At only 18, she moved by herself to America, because she knew her parents could only afford sending their eldest son to school. While attending Glendale Community College, she tutored math, got tutored in English, and worked as a cashier on weekends. She transferred to UC Berkeley, and managed to earn straight A's in optometry school while breastfeeding my brother in between lectures.

What I did know is that my family consisted of me, my bro, mom, and dad. I never visited Korea over summer breaks like most of my other Korean-American friends. I don't even know about Korean holidays— in fact, I just had to Google "what is the lunisolar calendar"— but we have our own traditions. We religiously watch K-reality game shows on Sundays. We play poker on Christmas. We have El Pollo Loco on my brother's birthday. I grew up comfortably, spending most of my time playing video games with my bro. I didn't think much of my dad who seemed to be on the sofa quite often when I came home from school. When someone asked me what my dad does I said "I think he works at a liquor store?" and they said "Oh so he owns it?" I said "Umm something like that," although I don't think people who own businesses usually work night shifts. My dad had several odd jobs after that, like solar panel installer and property manager. Today, he is a real estate agent.

When I was applying to colleges in high school, my dad suggested the Korea Advanced Institute of Science & Technology. Apparently, he had attended KAIST as a physics major. This was news to me. Why was he not a scientist now, then? Well, he wanted to be with my mom, and switched to Oriental Medicine, a very-well respected and high-paying profession in Korea. After 7 years of studying but mostly courting my mom with love letters, he followed her to America, with zero knowledge of English. He tried to set up an acupuncture business here, but failed due to the cultural differences. In other words, my dad would have been highly successful in his career if he had stayed in Korea. Instead, he left everything behind to pursue a romantic dream. He doesn't regret it one bit.

When I received rejection letters from the universities I applied to, I felt that I had failed. This was when my mom chimed in and told me her story for the first time. I enrolled in Glendale Community College right away. I was desperate to prove myself. I quickly grew from an immature high schooler who only ever did things for fun to an independent college student who was actively involved in my learning community. I learned how to advocate for my own future as well as for my peers, leading efforts to bring more industry and research opportunities to students. Funny enough, I would end up following in my mom's footsteps all the way to Berkeley.

Throughout my studies, I held my parents' stories close to heart. My mom proved her worth starting from nothing but her own wit and bravery. My dad sacrificed stability to pursue what (or who) he truly cared about and worked tirelessly to build a loving family. Learning how they managed to build their careers from their circumstances was what drove me to take full advantage of the opportunity they have given me. They have never once asked me about my grades or tried to convince me to do anything. Instead, they have shown me unconditional love, and— in true American fashion— provided me the freedom to explore the world for myself and determine my own worth. In community college and in Berkeley, I allowed my curiosity to guide me, which led me to gain a myriad of research experiences: from astronomy, computational biology, computer security, to robotics.

I am American, and I always have been, but in others' eyes, there was the obvious part of me who came from another place. I wanted to understand this place where I'm "really from," because California was never good enough as an answer. So, I decided to delay my graduation until the summer to spend a semester studying abroad in Korea. For two months, I got to know my aunt, who was kind and full of energy just like my dad, and explored the futuristic city of Seoul as well as the places of my parents' past. As a research intern at Yonsei University, I also experienced the Korean work culture, which is defined by unspoken rules of politeness and strict seniority. From this, I did not "become more Korean." Instead, I gained a deeper appreciation for the freedom to challenge the hierarchy, something I had taken for granted as an American. I may be 100% Korean by blood, but definitely 100% American in spirit.

Although doing well on tests and following the rules can get you quite far in Korea, one needs to have more "fight" in them to succeed in America— my parents' tenacity is proof of that. As a New American, it's within my roots to explore new opportunities, critique the world around me, and fight to make life better for everyone.