The "Gyo-Po": What Facebook Taught Me about Myself

Social media is a mysterious entity. And riding at the crest of this mania is Generation I- a generation of youth that are smarter, quicker, and more interconnected than ever before. Due to such advancements, many adults complain of the public aspect of the network, allowing any to easily breach your privacy on the grounds of social networking. While such risks are undeniably present, the internet has also given the new generation a chance to build a stronger sense of identity, and an awareness of the person behind the computer mouse.

I recently had the opportunity to create a Facebook account (at the constant insistence of my friends), and one of the first pages that popped up contained instructions for creating a personal profile. Based on your motives for creating an account, you could insert anything from family, education, life events, favorite movies, etc. The possibilities were endless, but as I hovered over the first blank, I realized that this was a much bigger decision than I had expected. Millions of internet users around the world would be able to examine and judge the person I breathed life into, purely based off of the info in my profile. So I was forced to contemplate, 'Who is June Lee, or rather, what about her is worthy of posting on Facebook?'

As I pondered the millions of paths my choice of self-description could lead to, I realized that my identity lay not in my hobbies, but in my family roots. I immigrated to the United States with my parents at 18 months old from Seoul, Korea, and while I do not have many recollections of living in Korea, my parents convinced me that only a sense of identity and pride can define a true Korean. While many "gyo-po children" (Koreans living on foreign soil) arriving around this age took on new names and lifestyles modeled after the "Yankee culture," my parents believed firmly that my brother and I could lead a revolution of Korean-Americans equally rooted in two cultures.

Before our move, America had been but a name referenced in my parents' conversations, but immediately after arriving in sunny California, we were immersed fully into the "American Dream." For every new venture that expanded our involvement in American society, a similar one in Korean was sure to follow. Some of my earliest memories of preschool involve working through mini-homework packets in two different languages, one for school, and one for Saturday Korean School, where I graduated this past year. As my interest in writing and public speech grew into a passion, I would never have imagined entering only English tournaments. From essay competitions, district speech contests, to competitive academic summer programs, my life revolved around two different cultures that merged and intertwined until the distinction between them blurred, forming a single heritage unique to our family. As I grew older, the expectation that I would retain an equally American and Korean identity developed until I was expected not only to feel pride in my dual identity, but to become an ambassador for both nations to my peers. Soon, I began giving presentations to my school classmates about aspects of Korean culture in the US. After listening to a lecture given by the Korean Consul General to San Francisco, I was inspired to start my own blog, "The Korea Book," and research the future of inter-Korean relations, in addition to setting the goal of working in the foreign service to increase the US's role in East Asian security. Whether it was flying across the World Championship tournament arena in a crisp white Taekwon-do uniform, or eventually starting my own student-led cultural fairs, there was never a moment in my childhood where I felt far from the heritages my lifestyle represented.

As I reflected on the process that had led to my Facebook-induced self discoveries, I realized 'who you are' comes not just from your preferences for favorite food/ movies/ books, but also the cultural environment that envelopes you through childhood. If we had never moved to the United States, I would probably be blind to everything but schoolwork and study, much less exposed to the diversity of the Silicon Valley, and nowhere near as determined to one day become the US ambassador to Korea. For now though, my blank Facebook profile beckons.

Frogs in a Well: The Sewol Ferry Accident

On the morning of August 16th, 2014, the Sewol ferry sank in a routine trip from the Republic of Korea's southern coast. The vessel was en route to the popular vacation island "Jeju" (a 13.5 hour trip), and was carrying 325 students from Danwon High School on an annual science field trip. The responsible ship company, Sewol's crew, and the Korean government have all faced harsh criticism for poor response to the disaster. But eighteen days following the accident, with little chance of saving the 300 lost passengers and victims, it's time we step away from the 'blame game,' and focus on providing for the affected families and comforting a mourning nation. How has this one tragedy affected parties across the world?

Memorial messages stretch across the gates of Danwon High School. In the aftermath of the accident, many high-profile concerts and events have been cancelled out of respect for the mourning families.

Foreign journalists/ media: Through reports in English news sources such as the LA Times, Reuters, and CNN, journalists have taken this chance to question Korean culture, blaming Confucianism's focus on "obedience to authority" for the high number of student deaths. According to the Dallas Morning News, "If that was a boatload of American students, you know they would have been finding any and every way to get off that ferry. But in Asian cultures…compliance is de rigueur." The fact that the captain and several crew members were the first to exit the sinking vessel has raised several eyebrows, especially as it immediately followed an announcement for passengers to remain in their seats. Many news sources have taken to this theme of "culture blaming" with enthusiasm, but this spirit of stereotyping only places the blame on the actions and beliefs of the victims and their families, the last parties we should accuse in the face of such a tragedy.

Chonghaejin Marine Company: The owner of the responsible shipping company, Mr. Yoo Byung-Un, has come under especial scrutiny for a questionable past. Financial difficulties aside, the CEO of this business is also the head of the Evangelical Baptist Church of Korea, making the family-led marine company a largely religious and private organization. Furthermore, evidence has been uncovered that Mr. Yoo supported the education and employment of several proteges over the past decades to high positions in companies beneficial to his own. It is believed that the Chonghaejin Co. has been able to slide by safety regulation tests due to such favorable connections. These favorable links are no where to be seen though, as the captain and numerous members of the Sewol crew, all employees of Chonghaejin, are currently under arrest and facing charges of murder.

Note from North Korea: In response to this unheard-of disaster, both sentiments of sympathy and tightening of ship safety checks have increased across the globe. Even South Korea's northern neighbor offered a surprising word of condolence. News on the message arrived via the South Korean Red Cross association president: The message expressed deep sympathy as regards the sinking of the ferry “Sewol” in the waters off Jin Island, South Jolla Province on April 16 claiming many casualties including young schoolchildren and leaving many persons missing.

The families of Sewol passengers await news on their loved ones near the port.

Different Voices of Korea

"Poetry is an act of peace." - Pablo Neruda

"The Hermit Kingdom" The Forgotten War De-militarized Zone. Korea's recent history, though embroiled in strife and pain, is largely unknown, forgotten, or ignored by the international community. The following poems highlight the bitter sentiment of Koreans (and people of any other country) through a period of continuous war, and the reality of youth growing up near the 38th parallel. In either case, an entire nation's emotions can be viewed through the depiction of a single cultural object and the commentary of a unique individual. As you scroll first through the following scenes from present-day Korea, take a moment to reflect on the struggle and determination it took to build-up the nation to its status today.

Major international companies originating in the ROK. Hyundai is the world's top ship-building company and a car manufacturer, while last year, Samsung was ranked 5th internationally in International Technology brands.

Exhibit 8.15

A pair of straw shoes hangs in the museum

Its seams are torn,

woven soles near thread-bare

Once upon a time, these shoes were a child’s pride and joy.

When he first put them on, the straw was sturdy and snug

the walls braided skillfully by a craftsman

They carried the boy through his joyful youth,

exploring the Korean mountainside, racing in the dirt path between rice fields

But one day, the boy was called off to war.

He marched to the beat of the Righteous army,

his childhood left behind in the trailing dust

The sandals guided him through smoky fields, between moaning bodies

speckled by flecks of blood from the Red Sun.

other soldiers would laugh at his worn soles

but the supple straw carried him where most steel boots could not

back to the familiar dirt roads, and the warmth of family reunion.

It was peacetime now, or so the news blared

every day, the man stood at the gate, listening to the echo of steel boots in rhythm

he longed for the rush of battle

the thrill of holding a gun, firing for one’s country

Without a word to anyone, he re-enlisted

and the last the straw shoes ever saw of him

was the glint of sunlight on his shiny steel-toed boots

But the shoes never forgot

what dying men sound like

the sight of countless boots, lined up and ownerless

and though it occupies the museum’s stand of honor

the shoes are in eternal mourning,

for the peaceful farm days

when war was but a dream

The Opposite Bank

Every day, I walk

Surveying the bank along the river

Where the water laps at the stones lining its shore

In this alcove, I find security

The violence and pain surrounding life cannot find me here

Or so I was told

On the other side of the Han* River

Is a land where ‘safety’ has no meaning

No one ever walks along those shores

Except with gunfire at their backs, fleeing with their lives in their hands

The river tries to help them

With quick flowing fingers, it pulls them across

Tugging them away from the ‘pinging’ of bullets

Sometimes they make it

And Mother will hurry to clear a spot by the fireplace

But other times, my river takes them into his arms

And envelopes their pain in his soothing current

The same shiny pebbles that line my side of the river

Stretch across the opposite bank

On good days, I can see the reflected sunlight winking from their smooth surfaces

And I imagine another child is standing

In the land that produces shivering souls and whistling bullets

Staring at my own land

Wondering, what lies on the opposite bank

(*The river that marks the boundary between Korea’s North & South)