Last month, this blog featured a Wiki post about
how a biracial Korean fared in Korea. One of the most
informative comments came via email from Mr. Sajin Kwok, who was the project leader for the National Human Rights Commission's 2003 study on biracial Koreans who were born between American soldiers stationed in Korea and Korean women through rape, prostitution or consensual dating.
While searching for the report (which is
available online here,) the Korean came across a feature article that nicely summarized the background of how the report came to be, and gave a more vivid description of the discrimination that biracial Koreans have faced in Korea. Below is the translation.
* * *
THERE IS NO HINES WARD IN KOREA
["대한민국에 하인즈 워드는 없다",
May 23, 2006 on Kyunghyang Weekly]
At 5:40 a.m., 47-year-old Park Myeong-Su, a biracial person who live in gijichon [TK: neighborhood near the U.S. base in Seoul] leave his small room of about 35 square feet to visit a construction company's office for day labor jobs. He waits all day, but there is no job for him. Even setting aside his Caucasian looks that he inherited from his American G.I. father, there is no place for him here, where jobs are doled out based on how close you are with the office manager. Park, who has always been discriminated as a biracial, says his personality does not let him make friends very easily. Because of the discrimination that followed his entire life, he developed a sharp edge.
Better Atmosphere, but Nothing Changed
 |
(Above) Park Myeong-Su
(Below) Hines Ward and
then-Korean president Roh Moo-Hyun |
If he whiffs at the office, he begins drinking -- even in the morning. He has nowhere to go, so he comes back to his small room. He would turn on the TV and drink silently, only to have the memories of discrimination that he has received his entire life bubbles up in his mind. He can only knock back the glass, not knowing how, where to pour out his swelling anger.
This is Park's life, as can be seen in the documentary "There Is", filmed for two years by director Park Gyeong-Tae. The audience who screened the documentary at a small theater near Hong-Ik University could feel the rage held in Park Myeong-Su's heart.
When the biracial hero Hines Ward visited Korea last month, Korean society roiled with attention toward biracial Koreans. The legislature proposed policies to assist biracial Koreans every day, and the government presented a comprehensive plan for biracial Koreans by the end of April. Although the fad had passed at this point, but it is a very positive phenomenon that the society recognized the issue.
However, the fundamental problem remains unsolved. Director Park says each time the biracial Korean issue emerged for the last 50 years, there was a policy to assist them -- and asks what changed. He notes that the issue of biracial Koreans at gijichon was always missing an important element. This is the point at which the director presents the issue -- the importance of tracing the origin of Park Myeong-Su's reality, his persecution complex and his anger. Director Park focuses on how the results of discrimination manifest themselves, and asks what went wrong.
Perhaps because the society changed, or perhaps because Mr. Park has gotten older, there is no one who actively discriminates against him now. But that does not erase away the discrimination that Korean society imposed upon him for decades. When he was younger, Park was frequently beaten for his looks, with ridicules of "twigi" [TK: "mixed breed"] and "yangnom" [TK: "yankee"]. He could not attend school, nor could he find a job. The pains of the past is connected to Park's present. He could not find work even if he wanted to; he barely survives in his 35-square feet hole.
If he happens to meet the eyes of a passerby, he torments himself with a persecution complex. The person might not think of anything, but Park thinks to himself, "That person is looking at me funny." Each time that happens, he reminds himself of his identity: "I am a Korean." When he drinks, the pent up anger in his heart explodes, usually in a violent form.
He was not this bad while living in America. Thanks to Amerasian Immigration Act of 1982, he moved to America in 1986 and lived for a decade. He briefly visited Korea, and found himself unable to return to America. In America, no one looked at him funny. Park says he could not communicate, but his heart was easy. He wants to return to America if he could.
(More after the jump)
Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.
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