The Silent "I"

Asian American Voices Project

My friends at Clever Girls Collective sent me the link to this video, a trailer for Asian American Voices: Shaping Silicon Valley, Strengthening Community, and Sharing Hope a film about the contributions of Asian Americans in Silicon Valley. You get to hear the very moving stories of various Asian-Americans and how their lives and work helped to shape the community we live in on a daily basis. The full film will be screened at the San Francisco International Asian-American Film Festival on March 20, 2010.

While this film centers on immigrants in the San Francisco Bay area, the stories could be told just about anywhere. For me, the stories reminded me of my mother, and her immigration story.  I've written here before about my mom's determination to become a US citizen, but I haven't told all of her story. That's more than one blog post could possibly handle.

My mother's birthday is tomorrow, March 6, and I have been thinking a great deal about all that she has contributed in her 69 years.  She was never able to complete high school because the Korean War interrupted her schooling and she had to go to work to help support her eleven brothers and sisters after their father died.  She came to the US as a teenager, married to my dad, with a baby in tow. She had three children before age 25. She worked in a factory for 25 years, and would have kept on working had it not closed its doors and moved operations to Mexico.

Despite whatever hardships came her way, She kept her sense of humor and fun, ran a tight ship, and grounded her children in the belief that they could make of their lives whatever they could dream. My mother has been my inspiration, trusted adviser, and friend for my entire life.

My mother never held public office, has never been on television, owned a business, or traveled much of the world.  She has raised three kids, sometimes as a tyrant, sometimes as a friend, but always with enormous courage and love. Her contribution to the world may not seem to be that big, but to me, it is everything.

My mother's story, and the stories of the people in the Asian American Voices film, are only a tiny representation of what Asian Americans have contributed to the US. I hope that everyone, no matter what their ethnicity, will take time to watch this and reflect on the impact of diverse cultures to the richness of our society.

You can join the dialogue and become a fan of the Film on Facebook, and if you do, you could win tickets to the March 20 showing at the SF International Asian-American Film Festival!

Belated Valentine

Valentine's Day has come and gone, and though we celebrated in style this year, I wanted to send some love to one of my blogger sisters who is going through a tough time right now.  Divorce is never easy, and when kids are involved, it makes it even harder for everyone.  One of my Seoul Sisters, one of the fabulous Kimchi Mamas, is currently going through this right now. I want her to know that she is not alone, and that I am thinking of her and sending love and support her way.

Hearts are fragile and can be broken, but lucky for us, they mend in time.  Take care of yourself and your beautiful little one.  The love that you hold in your heart for her will see you through the roughest of times.

XOXO

Race and Collaborative Blogging

Here's what I guest-posted over at BlogRhet on Wednesday. The discussion is ongoing. I'm honored to be a part of it.

...I am a Korean-American, the product of a Caucasian father and a Korean mother.  For my entire life, I've embraced the duality of my heritage, faced being the "Asian girl" in my all-white school in Ohio, and the "white girl" when visiting my relatives Korea.  I am always checking "Other" on government forms when asked about my race.  I am the perpetual "other."

I started my blog, The Silent I, nearly two years ago, to share information about a Katrina relief trip that I took with my friend, Jill Asher.  After the torrent of words and stories spilled out, I realized how much I loved writing.  I then started blogging the stories of our family travels, the small details of places and people we met.  I blogged so that I would not forget.  I blogged to capture memories for my son to read when he grows up, when the places we've been to as a family are only distant echoes to him.  I am an observer and storyteller, bearing witness to the small details and nuances of life.

After blogging on my own for a while, I started to contribute to two collaborative blogs.  As a mixed race person, it is probably only fitting that I contribute to two very different group blogs, one with a Korean-theme and the other made up of primarily Caucasian women who live in Silicon Valley.  My experiences with these two communities have been as different as the two sides of my heritage.

As American as Mom and Kimchi

My mother immigrated to the US from Korean in 1961.  She was a tiny, 19 year-old powerhouse with a 10 month old baby girl, a fairly good grasp of the English language, and a love for my father that defied her family, her culture, and all common sense.  I was that 10 month old baby, and according to family lore, I was a cranky, colicky baby who shrieked non-stop all the way from Seoul to Louisville, Kentucky.  We were greeted in Louisville by my beloved Granny, my aunt whose first name I bear, and my Grandpa.  According to the tale, I immediately stopped crying, reached out for Granny and never gave my mother a second thought, nor shed another tear.

Nearly nine years after our arrival on American soil, my mother became a US citizen. I was in second grade, and the story of her journey from Korean to American is one that the two of us shared every stop of the way. 

When I was in first grade, my mother and I were watching TV together when we saw a public service announcement reminding all "Permanent Resident Aliens" to renew their green cards and visit the immigration office.  I asked my mother what an "alien" was, and she said wistfully, "Me."

She looked pained.  I asked if I was an "alien" too, and she told me that since my dad was an American, even though I was born in Korea, I was an American, too.  She explained that my younger brothers were both American because they had been born in America.

She explained that anyone who was not born in this country was considered an "alien" unless they became a citizen.  She confided in me that she wanted to become a citizen, but there was a test, and she didn't think her English reading and writing skills were good enough to pass. 

I hit upon an idea.  Now that I was in school, I could teach her to read and write.  I was an early reader, and excelled at spelling and grammar.  I asked my teacher for extra copies of my worksheets and to be allowed to take my textbooks home "so I could practice."  The teacher either thought I was an apple-polishing suck-up, or the most dedicated student she had ever met.   I don't think she suspected that the real student was a proud 27 year-old woman with three children.