Why Do You Go Away? So You Can Come Back

Well, I've been there and back again as Tolkien would put it, and with the customary chests of gold to prove it, so long as chests can be suitcases and gold can consist of quinoa, clothing, candles, and many other things that don't start with /k/, if you can believe it. Allow me my alliteration, alright?

Anyway (sorry, sorry, I promise I'll stop), I've been back from vacation for about three weeks, which means I finally have the energy and presence of mind to write about, well, anything. Jetlag is rough, kids. Add that to the horrendously hot weather, and my sleep has been, in a word, crappy.

Each trip home has been weird in a different way. The first year it was mostly exciting and a bit surreal. My life in Korea started to feel like a dream, and I was surprised upon coming back to find everything exactly where I'd left it. My second visit was just odd and stressful and unsettled- I feel like I never really got my balance. And this year?

This year was the first time I felt any strong desire to move back home. I met my friends, and saw the lives they were living, and for a moment I thought...this could be me. Do I want this to be me?

I've been in Korea long enough now that a lot of the great things have become invisible, which puts the negative things up in sharp contrast. Some things are specific to Korea, while others are things that come with living in a country where you don't speak the language fluently. It's dumb, but the the Korea-specific complaint that I always go back to is bars. I used to love just popping into a local place around 5 or 6 PM, not to get drunk, but to sip on a drink at the bar and write or meet people. One time I talked for an hour with a guy who owned a company that cleaned up houses of hoarders or after a dead body wasn't found for a long time. Gross but fascinating.

It's also much harder to make friends and develop relationships, partially because of cultural differences, but also because of the language barrier. I wouldn't say it's necessarily difficult, but it's certainly more of a challenge. That's probably one of the biggest lures of moving back to Seattle or the US. Not only do I have a preexisting collection of friends, I know the rules of social engagement much better. 

However, for every positive outcome I could get by moving back the US, there is an equal and opposite negative outcome. Whenever I imagine moving, I forget that I won't be able to bring my well-paying job and rent-free living situation with me. I'd have to deal with the horrible US healthcare situation again. I'd go back to cat-calling and gun violence and an inability to afford an apartment of my own. That's a big one, I must admit. Living alone is a gift I'm not sure I'm willing to part with just yet.

I'm lucky to have the job that I have, to be able to support myself at 26, debt-free, with the ability to travel on my own dime, and not have to stress about the bill at a fancy restaurant most of the time. Any time I start to complain, I try to remind myself of that. Not in a "there are STARVING CHILDREN in [insert stereotypical poor country] so EAT your green beans for crissakes" but in a more...count your blessings sort of way. Visiting home every summer is a great way to remind me of that.

How Long Does It Take?

Phelan M. Ebenhack—AP

I'm so tired. I'm so sad. The same terrible things keep happening to the same people, to different people, to MY people. I want to be positive, I try to stay hopeful, but for every wonderful story I feel like I read 5 stories of violence and hatred and just pure ignorance. When are things going to reach the tipping point? Or are we just going to destroy ourselves out of existence?

Sometimes I feel bad, because I'm just not capable of crusading and fighting on the front lines like so many of my friends are. I can't read the news every day. I can barely check Facebook. I want to be stronger, to be more resilient, but it's hard enough to keep my inner sadness and anxiety at bay without adding in politics, mass shootings, racism, and all the things I'm supposed to be yelling about. Is this part of getting older? Does it all accrete like the mercury that's apparently filling the fish we eat, does each exposure increase the reaction like my shellfish allergy until a single bite leaves me sick for a day?

I want to be angry but I'm tired. So tired. I've been angry about this for so long. I've written the words. I've shared experiences, educated the uninformed, and made mindful choices. I've learned from my mistakes and helped others to learn from theirs. But what's the point? Is it getting any better? I've believed in movements and hashtags and leaders, but everything disappoints. Every fave will eventually be problematic. Eventually I just don't want to hear it. There's a saying about ignorance for a reason.

Sometimes, I feel like a coward for running away to Korea. If you care so much about these issues in the US, why don't you go home and fight for them? My mom even straight up asked me why I'm spending my time teaching Korean kids when the kids back home need teachers too. HYDRA really is the perfect villain for a modern fantasy; for every injustice or world problem we begin to right, a thousand more appear to take the place. This will always be the case, and I'm sick of being criticized for not talking about the "important" issues, for not fighting the "right" fights.

I'm sick of all these false equivalency arguments. If you've ever looked at the internet or spoken to a human, I'm sure you've encountered them. For your reading pleasure, I will recreate one here:

Person A: Wow, I really hate how women in the US are slut-shamed for wearing short skirts.
Person B: Well at least you don't live in a totalitarian regime where you're forced to dress like a prisoner!
Person A: Um...yes?

Even better are the accusations of calling attention to causes that aren't "important enough," whatever that means.

Person A: Check out this article about teenage girls getting sent home from school for stupid dress code violations!
Person B: I can't believe we're so upset about this when there are people dying in [insert country] and no one is talking about it!!?!

People are dying EVERYWHERE. Bad things are happening EVERYWHERE. None of us is capable of caring about every single cause at the same level, and shaming people for trying to bring attention to what is important to them is just mean. If someone tells you they are bleeding, do you tell them that someone else is bleeding more, or do you give them a bandage?

I'm writing all this in the wake of the horrible tragedy in Orlando at the Pulse nightclub, but these feelings are nothing new. This is just the most recent tragedy. I'm not here to talk about gun rights or the US's lack of response to mass shootings. Other people have done that better than I ever could. I'm just here because I'm tired and sad I want to feel like someone is listening.

There are two main sentence structures I'm teaching my students this week, and seeing them on the board was rather poignant today. Or heartbreaking. The first is "What's up? You look upset." Yes, I am upset. I'm upset that the media is refusing to accept that the shooting in Orlando was fueled by homophobia. I'm upset that even after so many mass shootings we haven't done anything. I'm upset about the underlying political corruption that allowed that to happen. I'm upset and I'm angry and scared.

The other sentence, which struck me even harder, was "How long does it take?" How long does it take, America, before you realize that you have a problem? How long does it take for things to change? How long before we stop allowing children and parents and friends be killed for the crime of living?

How long?