"Is that your Chinese name?"

(Certain things in post may or may not offend you, and I would like to say that I have absolutely no intention to offend anyone. Viewer discretion is slightly advised. Also, I'm Korean.)

At some point in our lives, I'm sure that we've all been both victims and perpetrators of stereotypical behavior in one way or another. Even if we don't verbally convey these insanely prejudiced opinions, we think about them- and that in itself is a part of the problem. But who sets these stereotypes? Where, when, and how were they constructed? Regardless of their origin, the enormous presence of stereotypes and profiling can be credited to none other than the media. Stereotypes may have been set up by people long before us, but the media sure isn't doing a great job to break down these walls. Usually when it comes to stereotypes, we tend to think of racial profiling. Whites are privileged, Asians are smart, Indians only eat curry, Mexicans are illegal immigrants, Middle Easterns are terrorists, Blacks are criminals, the list could go on. Whether it's positive or negative characteristics that are assigned to a population of people, a specific pattern can be observed: if an individual fails to conform and assimilate to their respective traits, they aren't normal. So why is it that society doesn't view individualism as normal? I'd like to refrain from going off on a tangent about the Constitution and freedom of speech, but if the government allows us to be different, why are we shunned when we aren't the same? Why can't society accept that we don't have to be who we're made out to be? 

When people see my name on official documents or when the teacher reads it for attendance at the beginning of the year, I am immediately profiled. I couldn't tell you how many times I had to explain "what my Chinese name meant" or "what part of China I was from." Sometimes I would even say I was Chinese, just to see how long they would be fooled- or maybe to see if they could even tell the difference. I vaguely remember a particular group project we were assigned to do in middle school. I'm not sure what grade I was in or what subject it was for, but I do remember that the group consisted of me, an Asian, and three white people. As one might expect, I did all the work- not to discredit any white people of their intelligence whatsoever. But the most interesting aspect of it is that while they innately expected me to do all the work, I didn't oppose it either. To all of us, it was a sort of common sense that I would have to do it- and here lies the colossal issue within society. Because I didn't want to seem like a "stupid Asian" or be labeled as the one bad apple of the bunch, I conformed to what society wanted me to be. I knew I wasn't that smart compared to other Asians, but I didn't want to seem dumb. I didn't think it was okay for me to be dumb. I wanted to prove to them that I am what they say I am. It's the fear of not being good enough, not being who we are expected to be, not being what everyone thinks we should be, that controls us. Whenever we fail to meet our expectations, we fail to please society. In a world where everyone wants to "fit in," it's hard to be different. It's hard to be the bad apple of the bunch.

In the short clip we watched in class from the 1998 movie Smoke Signals, Victor says to Thomas, "Don't you even know how to be a real Indian?" and proceeds to teach him "how to be a real Indian." Sherman Alexie demonstrates how society and the media can strip individuals of their true identities. No doubt, society has been changing and adapting to be more accepting of our differences. But in the grand scheme of things, how much substantial progress have we really made?
I'm not Chinese. Yong Jin is the entire first name, Jin isn't my middle name. I'm not that smart. I don't aspire to be a successful doctor. I don't play the piano. I don't have perfect grades. I can be different, and so can you. Let's all take a moment to remember who we were before we became what everyone else thought we were.

To end on a good note, here's a clip of some exaggerated stereotypes from one of my favorite shows.
Video

Am I a Criminal?

Hello. Welcome to my well, where I drop pennies of thought- or sometimes nickels. In the past two weeks of 11AP, we've been focusing on a variety of topics, but mainly these topics have revolved around war, whether it be memorials or the significance of fact and fiction in The Things They Carried. But after reading The Partly Cloudy Patriot, I noticed that some of my beliefs aligned with Sarah Vowell's. One of the core principles that our nation was built upon is freedom of speech. Patriotism, by definition, is defined as vigorous support for one's country. Vowell's argument is that by questioning the government, or speaking our minds, are we or are we not being patriotic?

As a Korean-born citizen, I am required by law to be registered for conscription, or mandatory military service. The current law, enacted in 1965, applies to males aged 18-35. As of now,  I am a permanent resident in the U.S. But when duty calls, will I be forced to give up everything I have in America and spend the next two years with my life on the line? I guess it's true that as a citizen of Korea, I must perform my civil duties and do as the government says, thereby being patriotic. As the Korean War never really ended, North Korea continues to be perceived as a threat, so South Korea needs to have an active military on standby. The thing that bothers me the most is that the smallest things can be considered evading military duty. Punishments can include jail time to even banishment from the country. In 2002, Steve Yoo, a Korean-Amerian pop singer, dodged his service by becoming a U.S. citizen through naturalization. The Korean government then deported and permanently banned him from the country. My parents decided to immigrate to America after my sisters and I were born, so most of my life has taken place in the United States. If I were to naturalize and become a U.S. citizen, is that considered dodging military service? Will I be banned from the country? Sure, it will seem like I'm just trying to avoid the draft, but why am I not allowed to live the life I want in the country I like? Most of my relatives reside in Korea, so I'll inevitably have to visit. Will my U.S. citizenship strip me of this right? I'll state it clearly- I do not want to be drafted. I do not want to simply give up two years of my life. Korea can call me whatever it wants to, but I should be able to make my own life choices. America, despite its recent controversies, has been a great home and I intend to stay here for good. But does this profile me as a criminal? If I was born in America, there would be no issue in the first place. But how could I have controlled this? Because I happened to be born in Korea, am I betraying the country by becoming a U.S. citizen? How can they just assume that the only reason I naturalized is to avoid military service? 

When reading "On the Rainy River," a chapter in The Things They Carried, I could relate to O'Brien. He says, "It was a moral split. I couldn't make up my mind. I feared the war, yes, but I also feared exile," (O'Brien 42). In the same way, I definitely fear going to war. However, I do not fear exile. If wanting to live in America, to them, means that I'm betraying their country, then why do they allow emigrations in the first place? People travel to see the world, and maybe find a better place to live. Why is it that in doing so, I risk being exiled from my home country? If anything, I believe that South Korea should rethink its policies when it comes to drafting. More and more people are immigrating to the United States looking for opportunity and a fresh start. Why not accept this and adapt to new circumstances? If Korea refuses to change their rules, then I refuse to change my perspective and decision.

For a perspective on what the military service is like, check out this video.