Becoming a Kim

‘The truth is my mother kind of gave up. But I wouldn’t realize that until much later. To be honest, prior to my 11th year of life, I didn't think things were going that bad. But then again that’s the nice thing about childhood, right? Everything kind of goes over your head. You never quite realize the acuteness of your circumstances until your much older and they slap you in the face.

I guess I’ll pick up where life started to get a little more… nuanced? From most girls my age at the time. Incidentally, that happens to be the last memory I have of my mother.

Yes, sad. Anyways.

How do stories usually start? Once Upon a Time? One Fine Day? I’m not sure. I’ll let you choose. The point is, it was just another ordinary day. School, 42nd street, Mr.Kim’s, Home. The same sequence of events I had done for the passed 3 years. The out-of-the-ordinary came when I opened the door to find my mother sitting there in the living room.

“Had she quit another job?” I remember thinking to myself. I didn’t dare ask. Instead I rustled around in the kitchen, looking for any clean pot I could get my hands on. My mouth was watering from the thought of devouring the package of ramen that Mr. Kim had given me in exchange for wiping down tables at the restaurant.

“Pack some clothes up, we’re going somewhere tonight.” My mother said, pulling my thoughts away from my stomach.

“Ma, it’s almost dark. Where are we going?” I said, ripping the package open with my teeth.

“Enough! Drop that and go pack!” My mother shouted coldly. I knew the tone well. Ma wasn’t to be tested when she was in that mood.

It was then that I saw the eviction notice crumpled up on the floor. I dropped the package of ramen on the counter and hurried over to my dresser. I had just finished zipping my clothes into my backpack when Ma grabbed me by the wrist and was pulling me out of the door.

As we made our way down the block, onto the subway and uptown, I couldn’t help but feel that something was very wrong. My mother had not once made eye contact with me since I got home. She sat up straight, eyes forward, breathing steady. But there was something about the way her eyes were glassy and glossed over. She wasn’t on a subway in New York City, she was somewhere else entirely. She seemed sad, tired. I decided then to stop asking questions and just see where the night would take us.

When we finally emerged from the subway, our next stop was one I’ll never forget. We were standing in front of Mr. Kim’s Korean barbecue restaurant uptown. I had frequented this place everyday for the passed 3 years to hang out with Kim Mi So, Mr. Kim’s daughter. What I couldn’t figure out was why we were here and how my mother knew where to find this place.

I guess she did listen to me when I spoke to her.

“Reina, wait here.” She said finally breaking her silence.

“Ok. Where are you going?”

She turned her back to me but not before I saw two tears escape from her eyes. It was those two tears that made my heart fall to the pit of my stomach. I tried to follow her as she walked away but her strides were much longer than mine. I remember that well. Trying with all my might to catch up to her before she got into the cab. It’s the kind of thing nightmares are made of.

I yelled after her, tears rolling down my face. She closed the door to the cab just as I reached it and instructed the driver to pull away but not before looking at me through eyes full of tears.

I’d like to think that that look meant that she loved me. Or was she apologizing? I’m not sure. Whatever the case, as soon as I saw that cab turn the final corner I was sure I was on my own. On my own in New York City. The thought made me go cold all over.

I stood there frozen into place, thinking a thousand terrifying thoughts at once. I’d like to say that I stood there for an eternity but lets be honest, New York is not the place for such lapse in good judgement. Especially for a little girl.

I turned toward the restaurant but my feet didn’t move me forward. If I went in there, it would become real, wouldn’t it? My mother had left and if my mother didn’t want me, why would anyone else? The thought of being a burden made my tears bitter to the taste.

I decided that whatever I was going to do I needed to do it fast so I ducked my head and ran towards the dark place near the alley where the street lights couldn’t reach. I knew that my black school uniform would provide me some sort of cover from the dangers that were out there.

It was then that I heard a sound so loud that almost made me jump out of my skin twice over. It was Mr. Kim opening the steel door with two hands full of trash. The sight of him momentarily put an end to my hopeless thoughts. My feet moved toward him faster than my brain had time to process. Before he knew it, I was clinging to him for dear life, my tears drenching his shirt. He pulled back and sunk to one knee to look at me.

Mr. Kim had never been one for questions. He looked into my eyes and got all the answers he needed. He stood up, put both hands behind his back, turned and walked away. For the second time in less than an hour, my heart sank. But this time it was short lived. With his back still turned, Mr. Kim offered me what I viewed as a beacon of hope: His outstretched hand.

It was like a green light went off and I was moving toward him with a sudden jerk. I remember thinking that that was the last chance I had to feel safe. And if the Kim’s made me feel anything in my life, it’s been just that. Safe.

Anyways, what was the question again? Ah yes, What is the Story of Your Life? Well, as you can see, the story of anyones life is a far cry from being summed up in a 2,000 word essay. The nuance in each of our ups and downs helps us all bring something unique to Korea university. But if I must, I’ll sum it up in a brief, albeit soulless, synopsis.

What is the story of my life? I’d say all of it amounted to becoming a Kim. My name is Reina Kim. I am an African American Puerto Rican girl who followed her family to Seoul, Korea. My sister is Kim Mi-So. My father is Kim Dae-jung and my mother, Kim Chae-won. If my life is a story, then these people are the beginning. Korea University can decide what my happily ever after will be.’

Great. Now to translate this all into Korean.