let’s go there… let’s talk about race.

On April 29th, 1992 a predominantly white jury acquitted four policemen of beating black motorist Rodney King after he had fled and resisted arrest. What ensued in the days following was a mass riot of thousands of blacks throughout the city rioting against racial profiling by the LAPD and also against the growing racial tension with the Koreans in the community. At least 53 people died in the LA riots.

My work at the Department of Treasury happens to have a large percentage of African Americans. It makes for a very diverse workplace that I really enjoy; it’s like a mini-UN. The only other Korean delegates at the Treasury are the members of the kind Korean family that runs the basement cafeteria/shop. Every morning, I drop by for my breakfast tea/toast and also to say hello.

This morning I witnessed an episode that was particularly unsettling. A black woman was standing in line watching the wife of the shopkeeper make her pancakes with a particularly distressed look on her face. As the wife began to place the butter on the pancake the woman shouts out, “No no girl, you better not be putting the butter on the pancake yet.” The wife looked back slightly puzzled, not quite understanding what the woman was requesting. She said once again more forcefully, “Don’t put the butter on the pancake yet.” The wife kindly smiled, “Ok ok, wait for butter.”

The woman then turned to one of her co-workers and snickered. She said, “These people…”

Once the woman got her pancake, she handed an empty syrup bottle, “Do you have more syrup?” Then the wife took the bottle and asked one of the other workers in Korean to go get some more syrup. Yet, the woman stood there waiting for a response and demanded once again, “I need some syrup.” I was torn, because I could understand Korean and knew that they were getting her some syrup but they had failed to inform her that they would.

This brief, unfortunate interaction gave me a tiny glimpse into the essence of the LA riots: a miscommunication of cultures and a lack of empathy. This was a revealing episode for me because as a Korean-American I could understand both sides of the story: the woman was probably having a bad day and was frustrated by the fact that the wife couldn’t understand her, on the other hand, the wife, an immigrant from Korea, had poor English skills and had to accommodate the demanding needs of customers.

Something that people often lack in this world is empathy. If only we respected one another and were considerate in our actions so many conflicts like the LA riots would be avoided.

perks: equal opportunity?

Last night after watching Knocked Up (which was both hysterically funny and slightly disturbing) my friends and I went to go get some ice cream and something very interesting took place.

I stood at the counter for a minute considering each of the flavors and contemplating which to get. After a minute of internal struggle debating the merits of strawberry v. cookie dough, I still had not come to a conclusion. So I kindly asked the girl behind the counter which flavor she recommended. She looked at me for a second, then asked me whether or not I like coffee ice cream. I told her I did. Then she reached down into the freezer and gave me a large cup of coffee ice cream with a cone sticking out of it; she said, "you can have this." At first I wasn't quite sure what she was saying but then I realized she was giving it to me for free. Apparently someone had ordered it earlier and couldn't pay for it. I thanked her and wished her a good night.

As we walked back to the dorms, I told my friends what had happened and how nice the girl had been. But then they told me that she wasn't just "being nice," rather that she had given me the ice cream as token of interest/attraction, if you will. I was puzzled. Perhaps I'm just naive but I always thought that girls seemed to benefit from these type of perks, not guys. I'm still not convinced, but please feel free to weigh in with your thoughts.

One thing I am convinced about is related to my previous post: kindness is contagious.

random act of kindness

This weekend I had an awesome time traveling back to Philadelphia and see a bunch of my old friends. I wanted to share with you something has stuck with me throughout the weekend.

As I sat on the Chinatown bus in DC waiting to leave, I noticed a blind man traveling up the street with his cane. He was dressed in a nice grey suit and tie and used his long white cane to make it to the street intersection. Then, he turned toward the street and raised his left hand. At first I was unsure about what he was doing, but I realized in his hand he was holding some change and was trying to hail a taxi. He stood there for what have been about 30 seconds but what felt like an eternity as countless taxis and people passed occupied or unaware.

Then something great happened. A man dressed in ragged clothes with a long beard approached the intersection and saw the blind man. The homeless man then urgently stood on the corner trying to hail down cabs, at one point he ran along a cab attempting to stop it. Finally, he caught a cabs attention and helped the blind man into the car. He watched the taxi pull away and continued down the road.

The entire episode took only about five minutes or so, but it really left an impression on me. The homeless man's actions were completely selfless. The blind man would never see the face of the man who had helped him into the cab, the homeless man had no idea that I sat on the bus watching... this was a true random act of kindness.

Witnessing this made me ask myself when the last time I did something kind for someone else without any selfish motives or strings attached. Consider how much better this world would be if only we acted more like that homeless man; if only we acted kindly towards others.

I'll never grow up

Last night I had the most frightening nightmare. No, it didn't involve the bogeyman or me going to school naked... it was much worse. Last night I dreamed that I was bald: friar-like hair, peeling head and everything. My nightmare is just another confirmation of a fear that I've realized since I've begun working in DC... I'm growing up. Here are the telling but unfortunate signs:

1. Late night activities. Throughout the week they are nearly non-existent. Everyday I come home exhausted from work and then spend 4-5 hours vegging and watching tv with my roommates. The highlight of my night is my evening run.
2. Business cards. As a child I was an avid basketball card collector. I would buy, sell, and trade cards of all different athletes. Now business cards are my new passion. In only 2 weeks I've amassed an impressive collection of business cards of all styles and colors; the envy of any resident DC'er.
3. Handkerchief. Yah, I carry a handkerchief around now.
4. Washington Post. I can't seem to make it through the day without reading the paper.

As I continue to age, I appreciate my life as a student more and more. It makes me seriously consider becoming a professor and spending my entire life in school (this of course, would make my mother thrilled). Regardless, I hope that I'll enjoy each and every day of my life now.

I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up
Not me, Not I, Not me! So there!
Never gonna be a man, I won't!
...
'Cause growing up is awfuller
Than all the awful things that ever were.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up,
-Peter Pan

double take

Let's play a word association game. You say Hilary Clinton, I think...

machine. feminist. politician. Machiavelli.

This morning my roommate and I had the amazing opportunity to go see Senator Clinton speak at the "Take Back America" conference. We showed up at 7:30am, we were given free breakfast and all sorts of Clinton paraphernalia. Although I was excited to see Senator Clinton speak, I'll be honest, I had all sorts of preconceived notions regarding Clinton and her beliefs.

But I was surprised by Clinton. I found her intelligent and charismatic, nothing like I had expected. Not to say that I'm now a Clinton supporter, I just came to the realization that I never quite gave her a chance. I made my own decision on her based on what I had heard without really investigating the issues. Pretty much, I treated her in a way that I hate to be treated; I stereotyped.

You can't judge a book by it's cover. Imagine that.

brush with fame

On a whim, I called up my congressman's office to see if I could meet with Congressman Dennis Moore from the third district of Kansas. To my surprise they told me to come in during the afternoon and that I could have a brief meeting with him. I was really excited to meet with him because I wanted to discuss with him House Resolution 121 (check it out). He seemed genuinely interested and told me that he agreed that it was a pressing issue and would look into it. I was super-syked, to think that somehow in that small way I had made a difference for myself and my people.

In the evening, I went to a free Shaggy and Wyclef Jean concert at the Kennedy Center. That was great too, hearing songs like "Angel" and "Wasn't Me" totally put me back into my good ole' middle school days.

Anyways, in light of my encounters with Congressman Moore, Shaggy and Wyclef Jean, I began thinking about the celebrities, politicians, fame and power. There's something about meeting famous or powerful people that is really exciting and memorable. For example, as nerdy as it sounds, as I was riding the elevator up in the Congressional Building to Moore's office, my heart began to pound and my palms got sweaty. They've got this X-factor, which appeals to different people in different ways and for different reasons.

I'm beginning to understand the X-factor that appeals to me. For me, I love meeting famous/powerful people because it's an encounter with a person (a real, normal person) who happens to be famous or powerful. It's a reminder to me that the majority of these people began their lives without such fame or power. This reminds me of the power of dreams and the purpose of hope. That with hope anything is possible... question is, what do you hope for?

I can do all things through him who gives me strength. - Phil. 4:13

holocaust: a rude awakening

It's my first weekend in DC so I decided to hit some major attractions with friends. First, we headed to the Library of Congress, which was absolutely beautiful. It was full of history and little details that made it a really grand place to be.

Then in the afternoon we visited the Holocaust Museum. Needless to say it was quite a powerful experience. Seeing the letters and bunks, hearing the voices and the stories made the Holocaust become so much more real than a school history lesson or a television documentary. I was struck by a deep sense of sadness but also shock, "how could such terrible things have happened to millions of people with so many people standing idly by?"

But as I walked through the museum thinking of how I would have acted differently, how I would have helped, it came to my realization that such treacherous incidents did not end with the 1940's. Holocausts are taking place right now in Darfur and North Korea. The problem today is the same problem as that during the Jewish Holocaust, people don't know or simply don't care.

It's up to us to know, to care, and to do something about it.

"Thou shalt not be a victim. Thou shalt not be a perpetrator. Above all, thou shalt not be a bystander." - The Holocaust Museum

introduction: first things first.

hello world.

And welcome to my blog. I decided to start a blog just so that I can share my thoughts about anything and everything. My blog is entitled "the Eloquence of Action" because I think Bill hit the nail right on the head; action is the means of forceful and fluent expression. Action is what's needed in this world full of apathy and lip-service.

As you probably could have guessed, I'm a busy-body. I can't stand being idle or wasting time. I blog to share my thoughts, my opinions, my exciting stories, my miserable days. Hopefully my blog will not only demonstrate the eloquence of action but it'll encourage you to act as well.

So begins my journey of blogging, until next time...

cheers.