Being a Korean-American 2

The first time I felt at home in the culture of America, not even a hypenated identity but just like other Americans is when I went to Welsh Valley Middle School. The school was predominantly Jewish. Jewish girls seemed just as much interested in me as I was in them. They treated me equally and fairly, although they saw me a bit odd. At the adolescent age of 13, I found this inexplicable and exhiliarating. One girl actually asked me out. Another girl just stared at me and found me cute. I was actually a little bit afraid of these girls. So I dated a Korean American girl at this time and it was one of the best times in my life. I used to talk to her for hours on end. She ignited my spirit somehow. It is when I was dating her that I began to write poetry. Her friends were jealous of my notes and poems. I was in love with her, I think, as much as a 13 year old could be. There was a smart Jewish girl who was attracted to me also. It was almost funny, the kind of things I used to say. And I never liked a girl because I wanted to have sex with her. It was more like a light being lit up in my heart and I could see all the tenderness and goodness of people around me. The Hebrew language sounded like a spiritual language. I felt a part of the culture, instead of an ugly, inferior subculture that would eventually become American.

I also remember how generous and understanding my male friends were when they invited me over. I've never felt so welcomed in America after Welsh Valley. Years after, I tried to find the same magic in a synagogue. It simply wasn't there.

I believe that's when my sense of spirituality was born also. It was born because I had fallen in love. God is Love. When you are in love, you are constantly giving and taking... you almost hear the interior monolgue of the beloved, you second guess what the other is thinking... you are very close to being which hides the source of its creativity. When you are in love, you hear the heart beating with the dream of life.

It was also the first time I experienced someone's death. Someone at the school had died and she was a good friend of my ex-girlfriend at that point. The sense of grief and the flow of tears was overwhelming.