Korean Peace

Submitted by Amy Matthews, Diversity Commission Scholarship Recipient

           As I sat there, nervous and frightened beyond words, I tried to focus on the scenery behind my window.  It wasn’t much to look at, just some other airplanes boarding other passengers.  But it would be the last glimpse of Minnesota for an unpredictable amount of time.

           After what seemed to have taken hours, the pilot finally gave notice that we’d be taking off for my native land, Seoul, Korea.  By this time, the aching in my heart had sunk deep into the pit of my stomach.  To see the beauty of my home pass underneath reminded me of all the significance I was leaving behind.  I was saying goodbye to friends, family, my college boyfriend, anything familiar.  It would all have to be a memory, for now.

           The moment I looked down from my window and realized how detached I was, a wave of emotion took control, and it didn’t subside for several days later.  I cried to myself quietly for the next 15 hours of the flight, trying not to disturb my neighbor.  “What steps had I taken to prepare myself for this journey?  What is it that I plan to accomplish?  Am I making a terrible mistake?  Am I throwing my life away?”

           I pondered these questions, but the only tangible conclusion was a very vague one.  I just knew at that point in my life, I must go.  There was no answer as to why or how long.  I suppose I stayed until I found a true answer.

           Sometimes I felt like everyone overused the expression, “Don’t live life with regret,” to the point where it becomes cliché.  Another would be, “Everything in life happens for a reason.”  Well, today I can truly admit I’m a believer in both, for an uncountable number of reasons.  Ironically, it’s taken me a 3year journey to arrive with this mentality.

           Some would say 3 years is a short time to understand meaning behind their existence, and that many continue forever never finding theirs.  For that, I’m grateful to be 25 with my cup “half full.”  Pessimism and insecurities remain a thing of my past, and they’re most likely lost within my footsteps in Korea.

           Adopted at the age of 2 (1985), the understanding that a man, a woman, possibly brothers and sisters all genetically related to myself exists somewhere out there.  This thought has weighed on my shoulders every single day.  Surely, I sat next to a long lost relative on the subway, or taught one English, or passed one along the street. 

           I will never deny that I have a curiosity as to how I will look when I’m older, whose personality traits I’ve inherited, or if I’m genetically prone to suffering from a particular disease.  For a brief second I may beat myself up for not contacting the adoption agency to seek out my biological parents.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few years, it’s acceptance, closely followed by patience.

           My life is never anything but empty.  Being reunited with blood never struck me as a means of self - fulfillment.  I like that there’s a mystery, an unpredictable quality to my future.  Today, I allow things to naturally fall into its own place without forcing the inevitabilities that may lie before me.  The answers eventually come sooner or later, at least I’m now finding. 

           Referring back to my personal question, “What steps have I taken to prepare myself for this?”  I could have locked myself in my room for hours teaching myself the Korean language and cultural anthropology, however, that would have altered my experiences.  Besides, no book, tutor, educational video could have prepared me for the life lessons that awaited.

           Identity obviously was an issue while growing up.  Brought up in a small suburb of St. Paul didn’t’ exactly help with my exposure into society.  Adopted into a Caucasian family meant I was also adopted into a heavily Caucasian populated community.  When it was time to attend a public middle school, I was fearful of the different ethnicities, and continued to shelter myself from others.  I was considered too “White” to associate with other members of the Asian community.  It’s understandable that I sought acceptance and friendship through those I was most familiar with.

            Like all children, we initially learn from our parents.  They hold a strong influence in our development.  I’ve encountered Koreans who embrace their unique exposure into this world, and those who’ve conveyed hostility towards being adopted, because outsiders treat adoption as taboo. I happened to fall into the second category.

           Unfortunately, my adoptive parents hadn’t shown much interest in Korean culture.  Perhaps they wanted to provide me with the full “American way and custom.”  Without my decision to move to Korea, I’d be living life partially blinded and be another example of what other countries dislike so much about ours, which is ignorance.  Because my parents were unwilling to educate and show pride in my descent, making it a lifestyle rather than a summer camp, it made it difficult to desire to educate myself.  For most of my life, I consciously engrained the decision within to never go back to Korea, partly because I was still hostile about being abandoned.

           Something I’ve come to terms with is that we can only put the blame on parents for so long.  There came a point in my life, very recently, where I’ve stopped targeting them for my shortcomings and took ownership for the responsibilities of adulthood.  We try to be perfect, but ultimately fail.

           One thing I’ve learned on my own, without anyone else’s influence, is that there is no coincidence in life.  My unhappiness by 2006 had imprisoned me, making me a lost soul.  I knew there was a dire need of some changes.  2 months prior to college graduation, I randomly met someone very similar to myself.  I refer to him as “angel #1”, because I never would have considered researching teaching positions in South Korea unless he and I crossed paths.  The question, though, was if Korea was even the answer.

           During my first year, it seemed like everyone and everything was blatantly pointing to the conclusion that  “No. Korea was NOT the answer.”  I believed this to be true until I found, whom I thought was to be, the man of my life.  For quite some time, I believed I was guided to Korea specifically to find my “soul mate.” 

           Being raised in a proud Irish/ Scandinavian family, we tend to create emotional barriers.  Communication wasn’t practiced, to say the least.  If there’s one thing I took from my 2year relationship with Olivier, it was the ability to communicate, something I was never able to do prior to Korea. 

           Since the falling out of our relationship, I’ve always referred to him as “angel #2”, not because he was a good man.  With every fiber of my body, I was willing to make it work.  It was against the will of nature, but I fought against every sign that was hitting me over the head, telling me to return to the states.  As angry as I was, he had released me from a cage I had created for myself.  For that, I’ll always be thankful.

           So now I leave Korea the same way I left the states, with doubt, fear, and much regret.  I watched outside my window once again, observing the clouds pass below me.  The same questions filtrated in my mind.  “Should I have stayed?  Did I make the wrong decision?  Where will I go from here?” 

           Eager to continue my life away from him and Korea, I immediately looked into massage therapy programs.  NWHSU was unquestionably right for me.  I was passionate about my future and was impressed with that the school had to offer.  Weeks prior to Christmas 2008, at the exact second I learned of my full scholarship to attend Northwestern, I also learned of my father’s lung cancer.  Such a bittersweet moment, it was.  The start of a new life, ending with the death of the only man I’d ever known as a father.

           As a young, rebellious teenager, I rejected religion and became an Atheist all throughout high school and college, challenging anyone who preached about (a) higher power(s).  Although I won’t ever restrict myself to one in particular, I will forever be spiritual.  A belief is the most essential component in self - evolvement.  Without these incidents in the past 3 years, I would have never gained acceptance for who I am, or for who anyone else is for that matter. 

           Choosing not to confine myself to a label allows me to believe in a broader spectrum.  This has also helped to realize diversity is great.  For once, I’m proud to be who I am and look into my future with optimism.  Every day, I feel such a great desire to reach out to others, instead of sheltering myself from the unknown.  The world has many great surprises, and my father’s death helped create new life in mine.

           I’ve finally learned the answer to my question I had desperately asked myself while staring out that window.  This journey helped gain patience and acceptance to the fullest.  Prior to my visit, I wasn’t aware that the first step started with me.  Appreciative of myself, I can more easily gain appreciation for others.  No longer am I a lost soul.