As a second-generation Korean-American, I have begun a quest to better understand Korean history, the roots that solidify my grounding. There are undoubtedly informational texts on the Korean War, but it is another challenge to grasp the personal accounts of my own family's experience during this tumultuous historical era. For this reason I am incredibly thankful for the resources available through this project, which illuminates the unspoken of shadows of the Korean War. It has stirred different emotions - pangs of pain at the sight of loss and suffering, an unprecedented level of unknown familiarity with the participants' stories, a longing to delve deeper into the past, present and future, all while reconnecting with a part of me I have never fully explored.
The sole recollection of oral tradition in my family regarding the Korean War traces back to when I was a young eight-year-old child. My grandmother had fled from the North during the War, carrying her two baby siblings after the loss of her parents, when she was only 17 years old. The vague memories of this conversation still hold a special place within me - it's the only access I have to my second-hand understanding of this time period. I specifically remember her describing her journey across the frozen river. The ice was too thin to uphold the weight of the fleeing people, so everyone stripped down during the cold winter to hurriedly skate across this ice. My grandmother expressed her fear when risking their lives by crossing in such a precarious manner, while soldiers trailed behind the mobs of people desperate for survival. I had painted my version of this image in my mind, but seeing the picture here of North Koreans crossing the river rekindled the same emotions of angst and inquisitive, insatiable curiosity. The artistic representation of these people's small bags, which carried the entirety of their lives' gains, struck me profoundly as well. What must it feel like to drop everything and leave what you call home? How would it feel to boil down and cut out my life's symbol of ownership in security (land, home) and simply carry a tiny bag that redefined my sense of comfort?
As a second-generation Korean-American, here begins a new journey to rediscover deeper parts of my blood, history, present and future. The learning process facilitated by this project has inspired me to revive this passion again.
