April 29, 1992 ... everyone remembers the controversial verdict in the case of Rodney King and the awful symbolism it represented to the black community.
Everyone remembers the civil unrest and rioting that ensued in South-central Los Angeles as a result of the court decision. Everyone remembers the anger and frustration expressed by a class of individuals that has been historically marginalized. Everyone remembers the demands for retrial and the subsequent convictions of the members of the Los Angeles Police Department for violating Rodney King's civil rights. These events definitely should not be forgotten.
But I would like to present another voice. How many recall that half of the $800 million in damages was suffered by Korean-American-owned businesses in South-central? How many remember the biased media coverage by Ted Koppel on Nightline about African-American/Korean-American relations without any Korean-American representation on the show? How many remember an irate Angela Oh finally stepping up into the national spotlight and confronting Ted Koppel on Nightline to give the Korean-American community a voice?
Two years later, sa-i-gu has largely been forgotten, most regrettably by the very Korean-American community that experienced the greatest losses of the riots. I am not angry about the riots anymore; I think I understand their impetus. I am also not angry anymore about the heightened tensions that were promoted between blacks and Koreans - I believe that the L.A. riots have been a vehicle by which problems of interracial relations have been brought to the table.
However, I am still deeply affected by the vivid images of the ruins of Koreatown one week after the riots, images that I saw firsthand. I am still brought to tears every time I watch the documentary of the L.A. riots directed and narrated by Daisil Kim-Gibson, called Sa-I-Gu; translated from Korean, 4-29. The memory of April 29 lingers on in my mind.
Most importantly, I find myself growing more restless as I watch the inactivity of the Korean-American community on the whole, as well as on this campus. Injustices persist, and befitting the "model minority" myth, no complaints are expressed effectively by these sufferers. Any grievances or objections are voiced passively within the Korean-American circles, never materializing in the greater constituency.
I too have done the same but am starting to transform. I have begun to feel like a lone person, a Sisyphus, struggling in futility to push a massive boulder up a hill. I seek rolemodels and leaders to guide my growth. I am disheartened when I think the most support for Korean-American activism that I've found comes from outside of Dartmouth. When I think of a voice on this campus, the word infinitesimal resounds.
The time has come for Korean-Americans on this campus to step up into roles of leadership and voice their opinion to others. I am not asking people to break out of their personalities and transform into some unnatural figure, but rather that they speak their mind.
I ask as a concerned individual that Korean-Americans here, along with anyone else who feels compelled to make a statement, to make one. Private gripes will only become a source of frustration and impotence. Every day, I remember the destruction of sa-i-gu and privately grieve; then the conviction to act on these feelings takes over. It is time for each person to stand and to be heard, and not to feel like a solitary figure when voicing his opinion, because he has the support of a community. Etch the date of April 29 on your mind and make yourself known.
