It’s 2:33 am and I’m in Durban, South Africa, writing on the back of a Protea Wanderer Hotel receipt. I’ve been performing and living out of my suitcase for a few years now and I’ve been feeling rather gypsy-like, and everywhere I go, people never fail to ask ~ where are you from? Where’s home?
My stock answer has been that I’m a Korean-American homegirl from Queens. As if that will explain the accent, the swagger, and the Triple Five S(e)oul to curious strangers. But being abroad amongst Kiwi, Irish, Zulu, and Trinidadian friends makes me really examine my cultural makeup and national identity. Who am I? I could never simply answer “American”, because while I am a U.S. citizen, Korea is still my split motherland.
Which Korea? Both Koreas. When people ask me, ‘North or South?’ I always say ‘both’, because it’s important for me that folks remember that Korea was one country for more than 5,000 years and has only been divided for about fifty. And with our awareness, it’s possible to work towards Korean reunification in our lifetime. My grandfather was born in Pyongyang, way before North Korea was dubbed an axis of evil, so when you look at me, you’re also looking at a North Korean face.
You’re looking at the face of a Queens girl too. In a way, it’s as important for me to rep Queens as it is for me to represent Korea, because my neighborhood has colored my personality so much and is partly responsible for making me the gum-snapping, hot-tongued homegirl I became.
Citizenship is a question of belonging. Where do your loyalties lie? Which country do you claim? Which country claims you? Post 9-11, I’ve never felt so unwelcome in homeland as now. But as a diaspora kid traveling in South Korea, I can tell you that taxi drivers make sure to let you know you are an alien there too. And North Korea? Forget about it! They couldn’t have stared in more amazement if I had dropped in from Mars.
If I had to claim a country based on my heart instead of the law, I’d claim all three, because I am concerned about the welfare of all, and my fate is tied directly to the future of all of them. As much as I might gripe as a liberal, growing up in the States has allowed me the privilege to rail against it, and to become the artist that I am today. So where’s home? More & more, the world is becoming home, but my personal mission in working towards a unified Korea means I must negotiate all of these territories and disparate spaces in order to work towards healing & wholeness for my people, and healing & wholeness for myself. That means accepting and understanding how all of these different facets of my cultural identity work with each other to create the world citizen I’m becoming. So when I pack my bags & head for the next hotel and they ask me where I’m from, I’ll tell them Queens by way of Korea, but to be honest, like most of us, I’m still trying to figure it all out.
My stock answer has been that I’m a Korean-American homegirl from Queens. As if that will explain the accent, the swagger, and the Triple Five S(e)oul to curious strangers. But being abroad amongst Kiwi, Irish, Zulu, and Trinidadian friends makes me really examine my cultural makeup and national identity. Who am I? I could never simply answer “American”, because while I am a U.S. citizen, Korea is still my split motherland.
Which Korea? Both Koreas. When people ask me, ‘North or South?’ I always say ‘both’, because it’s important for me that folks remember that Korea was one country for more than 5,000 years and has only been divided for about fifty. And with our awareness, it’s possible to work towards Korean reunification in our lifetime. My grandfather was born in Pyongyang, way before North Korea was dubbed an axis of evil, so when you look at me, you’re also looking at a North Korean face.
You’re looking at the face of a Queens girl too. In a way, it’s as important for me to rep Queens as it is for me to represent Korea, because my neighborhood has colored my personality so much and is partly responsible for making me the gum-snapping, hot-tongued homegirl I became.
Citizenship is a question of belonging. Where do your loyalties lie? Which country do you claim? Which country claims you? Post 9-11, I’ve never felt so unwelcome in homeland as now. But as a diaspora kid traveling in South Korea, I can tell you that taxi drivers make sure to let you know you are an alien there too. And North Korea? Forget about it! They couldn’t have stared in more amazement if I had dropped in from Mars.
If I had to claim a country based on my heart instead of the law, I’d claim all three, because I am concerned about the welfare of all, and my fate is tied directly to the future of all of them. As much as I might gripe as a liberal, growing up in the States has allowed me the privilege to rail against it, and to become the artist that I am today. So where’s home? More & more, the world is becoming home, but my personal mission in working towards a unified Korea means I must negotiate all of these territories and disparate spaces in order to work towards healing & wholeness for my people, and healing & wholeness for myself. That means accepting and understanding how all of these different facets of my cultural identity work with each other to create the world citizen I’m becoming. So when I pack my bags & head for the next hotel and they ask me where I’m from, I’ll tell them Queens by way of Korea, but to be honest, like most of us, I’m still trying to figure it all out.
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