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| Artist's rendition of Dokdo |
My job comes with its perks. A week and a half ago, I received an email from my program about "an all-expenses paid trip to Dokdo Island... offered through a joint partnership between the North Gyeongsand Provincial Office and the University of Daegu [as] an opportunity for foreigners to learn about and explore the controversial islands." My co-teacher assured me that, if selected, I would be able to have the three days for the trip off from work (though I'd have to push my vacation time back a few days to make up the difference). I wrote the application essay and was informed that I've been selected to attend! Needless to say, I'm excited.
I arrived at Incheon International Airport two years ago with only the barest knowledge of Korea’s culture and history. In the weeks and months that followed, I found myself rapidly immersed in the vibrancy of Korea: I tasted kimchi for the first time, discovered K-pop and K-dramas, and marveled at the juxtaposition of modern neon and ancient temples upon my first visit to Seoul. While I found that these components of Korean culture were easy for me, a foreigner, to identify, it became apparent that I was only scratching the surface. It took me longer to notice the darker, deep-rooted memory of Japanese Imperialism in Korea but, once identified, I saw how this traumatic history continues to seep into the relationship between Korea and Japan. I have since been drawn to learning more about it.
The legacy of wartime Japanese military sexual slavery remains a deep wound in Korea. I read all that I could find on the victims of this atrocity, the euphemistically named “comfort women.” I also traveled to Seoul to visit two museums dedicated to the issue, the Women’s War and Human Rights Museum (전쟁과여성인권박물관) and The House of Sharing (나눔의집). Frankly, what I discovered through these experiences was shocking, horrific, and indescribably sad. I eventually put together a lesson on “comfort women” for my advanced extracurricular class. My teenaged students were eager to discuss the current struggle for survivors’ recognition by the government of Japan. Learning about the scars of the past, the ongoing pain of the surviving victims, and the personal reflections of my students gave me new insight into the modern Korean psyche.
Furthermore, in my two years in the classroom, I’ve witnessed students speak passionately about Japan’s recent, controversial claim on Dokdo. Because my Korean language skills are so rudimentary, the opportunities for me to learn about Dokdo are limited and I want to understand the passion that I see in the young people I teach. My students are deeply concerned with how the past influences the present and, in turn, how the present might shape the future. I believe that visiting Dokdo would allow me a valuable glimpse into an issue that weighs strongly in the hearts of Korean people. I hope to remedy my ignorance on contentious issues and gain a solid foundation of knowledge and experience to better understand the people I interact with each day.
Korea has been my home for the past two years; I believe that it is my responsibility to learn as much as I can about it. Thank you for considering my application to visit Dokdo.
I'll write a follow-up post once I've returned from my trip. It's also been a while since I've posted about day-to-day life in Ulsan; in brief, it's good but busy. (Oh, we had an earthquake a few days ago... that might merit its own post). Until next time, cheers!
