As I gazed across the endless rows of tombstones, the nagging thought returned to my head.  For the last week, our group had been learning about the 1980 Gwangju Uprising, a horrific massacre during which Dictator Chun Doo Hwan had sent paratroopers to quell student protests resulting in the murders of over 100 protestors and hundreds of fatal casualties.  Watching Jang Hoon’s A Taxi Driver and visiting the interactive museums in Gwangju, it was made very apparent to me how young most of the protestors were.  Most were my age or younger, fighting valiantly against a corrupt regime, risking their lives to ensure a just system for their countrymen and future generations.  Contrasted to the apathy I saw within my generation of peers, both in the United States and even those in South Korea now, I began to question whether I had ever felt so strongly about anything in my life.

 

Duke Engage in South Korea immersed me in not only a vibrant and bustling city but the steadily simmering turmoil of the immigrant experience in Seoul.  Every day, surrounded by signs I could not read and the din of conversations I could not understand, I could only imagine how difficult living here would be for a child whose parents were away at work.  Working with these kids began to reinforce what I had experienced my entire life as a child of war refugee parents and as a volunteer who worked with those populations in the states as well.  Working with the middle schoolers made me realize that what I had been doing in this program and in the states (tutoring and teaching English) was not enough. While it’s a step in the right direction towards lingual integration, the alienation of being different and of being neglected by an apathetic society requires more.  This trip has made it abundantly clear to me that I can and need to do more to help alleviate the many obstacles that refugees and their children face, whether in the United States or Korea, and I am sure that continuing to work with the Kenan Refugee Project at Duke will be a step in the right direction.

 

It’s been exactly a week since I’ve landed back in the U.S. but the last two months rewind through my head everyday.  In the time that I’ve been back, I’ve been asked countless times “How was Korea?”, “Did you like the food?”, “How were the kids?”.  Simple questions that could not come remotely close to encapsulating every moment of laughter, tears, relief, and connection I experienced on this trip.  To be honest, the sum of our collective experiences could not fit into 1000 blog posts.  The sights, scents, tastes of the city and the relationships we forged will stay with me for the rest of my life.

 

This is not a journey that I could have undertaken alone.  By my every step was program director Professor Kim Haeyoung, site coordinator Kim Eunyoung, and my peers.

 

To the Kims, thank you so much for, first, allowing me this amazing opportunity and, second, ensuring that I would be able to capitalize on every single second of it.  From ensuring I had a proper diet to answering every single question we all had to introducing us to the food and culture of South Korea, I cannot begin to express my gratitude.  Every excursion and outing was extremely insightful and the worries of Korea, from reunification to politics now run through my mind.

To Daniel, Emily, Erin, Sheyann, Thomas, Leandro, and Nikki, I know it seemed like I joked about how this was the “perfect group” but, for me, it really was. Each of you brought so many different personalities, ideas, and backgrounds to our group, not only sharing all of that with the kids but me as well.  I am humbled to have learned from all of you about Korean, craft beers, video games, and basic hygiene.  This trip would not have been the same without each and every one of you.

To the teachers of Jiguchon and Wooriduel, please never stop.  The work you do is so so necessary.  To help these students persevere against all the adversity they face is a gargantuan task and to watch you come in every single day without fail is truly inspiring.  Thank you for spreading joy and hope to not only the students, but to us as well.

To the kids of Jiguchon and to my young men in Wooriduel… Thank you for allowing me to be a kid again.  From playing datchi, jumping rope, dancing, waging war with our thumbs, and so much more, you accepted an outsider who could not speak your language.  I can barely speak two languages and watching many of you learn English as your third (or even fourth) language blows my mind.  Your drive to learn, even in the atrangest of circumstances, has been impressed on me.  There is so much more I want to say to each of you but I will do so at your graduations ;).