The Story of a Korean American

The Story of a Korean American
                                                 

“Hey Mom, I’m home!” yelled Kevin as he bounded in the door after his first day of third grade.
          “How was your day?” Mom asked as she gave Kevin a kiss.
          “It was great because I made a new friend,” Kevin called as he helped himself to a handful of homemade chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. 
         “What about your teacher?” Mom questioned as Kevin plunked down on the couch and turned on the television.
         “Her name is Mrs. Carpenter, and she’s old, and she doesn’t smile.”  “That doesn’t matter now though, because finally there is someone who looks like me.” 
         “What do you mean? Mom inquired, knowing very well what Kevin meant.  Kevin had been adopted from Korea when he was three months old.  His birth mother was a single woman who was unable to care for a new baby.  With the hope that he would have a better life, she had placed him with an adoption agency in Seoul.  This tiny baby moved thousands of miles away from Seoul, Korea and had landed in a suburb of Seattle with a blonde blue-eyed sister and Caucasian parents.  Now, Kevin was a third grader at Mill Creek Elementary.  He was happy for the most part, but there was sadness in his eyes that sometimes showed especially when he felt like he was different.  In second grade he had been teased when another kid has pulled his own eyes to look like Kevin’s.    Most of Kevin’s classmates were white middle class kids.  There was one girl who was Japanese, but in Kevin’s mind, that didn’t count.  Now there was someone who looked like Kevin.  Now Kevin wouldn’t be different.
         “What’s your new friend’s name?” Mom asked gingerly. 
         “His name is Sung Kim.  Can I ask him to come over and play?” asked Kevin as he flipped the channels on the television.  So it was decided.  Kevin would ask Sung if he could walk home with Kevin one day after school.
         “What’s with your mom?” asked Sung after they went upstairs to Kevin’s bedroom.  Why isn’t your mom Korean like us? “  Kevin’s spirits dampened as he explained to Sung that he was adopted.  Now he was different even in his new friend’s eyes. 
         Kevin’s mom knocked on the bedroom door with a plate of homemade cookies.  Sung seemed surprised and commented, “Wow, my mom never does that!  Your mom must be a really good cook!”
         That night when Mom tucked Kevin into bed, he looked up at her and asked, “Why am I different than everybody else?” 
“Oh Kevin.”  Mom smiled with tears in her eyes.  “You are wonderful because you are different.  You have the best of both worlds.  Your Korean history is much older than that of the United States.  Korea is a strong country that survived even when other countries wanted to control it.  However, in the United States you have wonderful opportunities to be anything you want to be.  You might even go back to Korea someday.”




Post Script
Kevin did go back to Korea when he was eighteen years old.  He loved the history of the country and the people he met.  Upon his return he told his mother, “You were right.  I have the best of both worlds.  I’m glad I’m a Korean American!