"Where Are You From?"

When I did a study abroad in England, I was asked this question so many times, “where are you from?” I told people, “I am a Korean American and from Virginia,” and they would look at me with a puzzled, confused face. Many people could not just grasp the idea that I am an American even though I look like an Asian. Well, I am not trying to define or explain what makes a person American or Korean. Such question would be too complicated for me to answer and would probably require a TED talk. But I rather want to present my “origin story,” trying to explain that actually, I am neither Korean nor American.

My family moved to Guam and stayed in the island for one year before moving to Virginia, US in 2007. I did my ninth grade in Guam. Like many other international students, I was new to the English-speaking culture and could not fit very well. I still remember my friends calling me “homeboy” which offended me because I did not know what “homeboy” meant. I honestly thought it was an insult. Of course, I was not brave enough to tell my friends to stop calling me “homeboy.” I still remember I could not fit in, so I naturally decided to take my lunch to the back of the building and to eat alone. I just couldn’t sit among other students and keep my mouth shut for the entire lunch break. This cultural change significantly shocked me. I mean, I wouldn’t say that I was a super popular kid back in Korea, but I had many friends. I was a student leader. From where I had power (at least in my view) and strength, I dropped to the rock bottom, alone in Guam.

When I worked as a magistrate, I worked closely with sheriff’s deputes at a local jail. One deputy gave me a tour inside the jail. I saw different levels of security for different inmates, and the toughest security level was a room with a restraining chair. The deputy told me that if necessary, deputies would lock a person in the restraining chair, fixating the inmate’s arms and legs to the chair. With little bit of exaggeration, that is how I felt in Guam. I felt empty and lonely. I felt trapped without a purpose in my life. My arms and legs tied, forbidding me to freely move.

I probably appeared desperate and possibly even mentally sick, so one Korean friend who was in the tenth grade introduced me to a Korean church. For some weird reason, I decided to attend early morning services during the 2007 lent. I have no idea how I was able to wake up at 5 a.m. and went to the church almost every day for 40 days. In the quite morning, there I met Jesus. Jesus became my friend and filled my empty heart with his presence. It may sound cheesy and weird, but there is no other way to describe what I experienced. His presence filling my heart. From that moment, I decided that I would serve Jesus as my Lord and Savior for my life.

Since then, my faith has defined who I am and determined where I came from. My blood is undoubtedly Korean, my mind is American, and my heart is Japanese after being married to a Japanese woman. However, my inner being cannot be defined but by my faith. Jesus is my Lord, and I am his friend and his subject. I may have an American passport, share a Korean heritage, or will be living in Japan, but my true allegiance lies with Jesus. I am from the Kingdom of God.

Taeho