Me: Hi, my name is Robin Kim!
(S)he: Hi! Your last name is Kim? You must be Korean!
Me: Yeah, I’m Korean American!
(S)he: Oh, cool! So you were born in the US?
Me: Uh… Well… I was actually born in Japan.
(S)he: Oh… so you’re Japanese?
Me: Well, no. I’m Korean American! I'm ethnically Korean but born an American citizen.
(S)he: But you were born in Japan…
Hi! Allow me to provide a brief introduction of myself. Again, my name is Robin Kim. I'm a junior at GW studying Business Analytics and International Affairs, and I'm currently abroad in Seoul, South Korea at Ewha Womans University.
I was born in Japan, but I am an American citizen. I have lived in 6 different countries (Japan, China, Poland, USA, Hong Kong, and South Korea), but I hail from the US. I say I grew up in Virginia, but I really grew up around the world.
Both of my parents were born and raised in South Korea until the age of 16 when they immigrated to the US. Therefore, they understand what it’s like to grow up in a place of different language and culture.
My dad is a US diplomat so we’ve been traveling as a family for as long as I can remember. My dad’s first assignment abroad was actually Japan, where I was actually born (hence my ability to be born abroad with a US citizenship) . And ever since then, I’ve been moving around almost every three years.
That’s why it’s hard telling people where I’m from. It's difficult to "identify myself." It’s not one simple, easy answer.
My history and my identity used to be something I was so proud to share. It wasn’t until I moved back to the US, after six years abroad, that I started to be annoyed and almost ashamed to explain why I am the way I am and how it's possible. When I lived abroad, it seemed that my diverse background was the norm and well received, not questioned -- even cool! When I moved back to the states, it seemed to throw everyone off. How could I be born in Japan with a US citizenship? Shouldn’t I be a Japanese citizen? But then how am I even Korean? Am I considered American if I lived most of my life in Asia? These were questions that people started to ask me, and I began to ask myself.
I became defensive. But not consistent. When the Uber driver asks me where I’m “from,” I sternly respond that I am from Virginia. But for every World Cup and every Olympic game, I wear a Red Devils (South Korea) t-shirt. Whose side am I on? Why did I even have to be on one single side? Why was it not simply accepted to be in the middle?
Last week, I attended a museum tour as part of an alternative class session for one of my classes here abroad. The class is taught in 100% English. The tour, however, was given in Korean. Besides me and four other international students that showed up to the tour, everyone else was a local Korean student. As the tour began, one of the international students asked the tour guide if she could speak in English. The tour guide, unfortunately, told her that this tour was in Korean and they wouldn't be able to offer an English translation. The four international students then physically and mentally drifted away from the tour group as they began talking amongst themselves and disregarding the tour completely. The local Korean students listened to the tour and followed along the exhibits with the tour guide. Somehow, I found myself torn between the two groups.
I, myself, am also an international student. However, I was able to understand about 90% of what the tour guide was teaching us. I didn't know where I belonged. Do I walk with the group in front, quietly nodding my head and pretending like I understand everything the tour guide is saying? Or do I walk with the group in the back, showing that it's unfair that our English-taught class required a tour given in a foreign language? I just stayed in the middle, linking the two yet not revealing which side I was on.
And I think that's okay. I'm the middle ground.
Rather than struggling to find a single explanation for other people to accept, I am choosing to focus on my own definition. My middle ground.
I'm a TCK.
A common term used in the international community, a Third Culture Kid is someone who was predominantly raised in a country and around a culture other than their own or that of their parents. Wow, could a term better explain me in any other, simpler way?
That's probably why I ultimately came here to Seoul. Even though I lived here for three years, I was residing inside the US army base so I had a barrier of protection. Despite the many times I had my identity questioned and even judged by strangers, I loved Korea. I loved being here because it still felt right. This is a place where I not only speak the language and understand the culture, but I also hail ethnic roots from. Hearing the stories of my parents and grandparents’ lives in Korea and how small customs and habits have remained in our family and even spread down into my generation is fascinating.
So I'm here to challenge myself. Exactly how uncomfortable can I make myself? How far can I go without forcing myself into one bounded group but rather, accept that I am that unspoken, undefined middle ground?
I'm Robin Kim, and I'm proud of where I'm from!
