Whether something happens to America or something happens to South Korea, I can’t help but worry for both of them. My true home resides in America but the blood which runs through my veins are Korean. I remember what important event made me who I am today…
I walk into my first day of Kindergarten and take a seat on the floor near the corner, crisscross. Many children my age scream and laugh among each other in a foreign language I can’t quite grasp. My older brother and sister once tried to teach me this language, but I never followed through. Although my birth took place in Abington, my life only revolved around the Korean society in America. I eat Korean food, celebrate Korean holidays, and practically live Korea because I go every year for more than 2 months, so I can’t help but wonder why I need to learn a new language; I am Korean. A tall, blonde lady smiles down at me and escorts me to a colorful seat. When seated, I look around the rainbow colored room in nervousness and more children pour in. I’m scared but at the same time, sort of excited. Finally, her mouth starts speaking in an enthusiastic way, but the only words I understand are hello and welcome. Later on, I try something called a hot dog and my teacher wipes ketchup from my face. We are full of smiles and laughter. Over the course of the year, we communicate by hand signals and small talk. At first, culture shock consumed me, but learning a new language as well as a new culture amazed me. When I went to South Korea, I felt like I belonged but when I came back to America, I felt more comfortable. Split in between two countries, my head started asking questions. As I grew up between the clashing countries, problems arose and left me hanging. All in all, my identity confused me. But I now realize I am just me. I am part of two different cultures and part of two different societies. I am proud to call myself a Korean-American.