Clover

For reasons I don’t talk about a lot, living in Korea sometimes feels stressful. I can tell when people are just being polite, but the ones who aren’t stress me out the most. I’ve had days where I’ve had to stop myself from talking back because I didn’t wanna add to the stereotypes people had about me.

My mom—April Park—went through so much worse when she decided to stay here.

Before coming to Korea, Mom was raised in the United States in a city called New Orleans. At the age of 18, she joined her country’s military as a way to pay for her education since she had a rough relationship with my grandparents at the time.

According to her, she had always been interested in learning Korean. Her grandpa was an American translator during the Korean War, and he used to teach her small phrases up until the day he died. My grandparents didn’t see the point in her learning another language.

Mom mocked them when she first told me this story. “They thought that Spanish or even Chinese would make more sense to learn. I told them over and over again that I wanted to see other countries. My grade in Spanish was never the best, and when I told them I wanted to learn Korean instead, do you know what they said to me?” She’d laughed so hard that her head tilted back. “They thought that Korean was basically the same as Chinese!”

Mom later told me that the other reason her parents had was that no one would take her seriously if they heard her speaking Korean. They cared about her, but they also wanted her to play things safe. “They said these things from the heart, and I knew that they just wanted the best for me. Unfortunately for them, I wanted to live a life where I didn’t need to fear being myself.”

Eventually, she met someone and thought she fell in love. She ended up having my older brother Markus, naming him after the man she was with. She said I was too young to understand why they broke up, so I didn’t push the subject. All I knew was that she had suddenly gone from a woman with an education and a life ahead of her to a single mother wondering how to take care of her child.

Soon, Mom found an opportunity that changed her life.

Her unit had slots for a few soldiers to deploy to South Korea, and she made sure that she was the first volunteer they heard. She’d been taking care of Markus for a few months at the time, and she knew that 8 months in another country was what the two of them needed.

And of course, that’s when Dad entered the picture!

Dad—Park Youngjin—describes himself as an introverted guy. He’s the most comfortable reading books or playing SpaceCraft or something with his friends. Similar to my mother, he found a love of English from a young age. He’d watch reruns of shows like The New Prince of Bell’s Air while trying to copy the way the people on the show spoke.

He was average at most of his classes in school, but English was the one place he excelled. He was determined to learn it, asking my grandparents to sign him up for tutors and to buy Korean-to-English dictionaries. He was totally enamored with American culture and wanted to learn what he could.

This lead to him studying to become an English teacher. Hearing him tell the story, I wondered why he didn’t try and become a translator or something better.

“Well Reily, that’s because I want to make a difference in our education here. English is memorized, but it’s not truly learned. It’s just another subject used to get into university and for jobs. I never saw the point in having a high TOEIC score if they couldn’t hold a real conversation.”

“Then,” I asked, “Why didn’t you try to work for the Ministry of Education?”

Dad smiled at me. “If I wasn’t a teacher, then I wouldn’t get to practice my own English every day!”

I could see how my parents fell in love.

Mom had been stationed at a base called Camp Humphreys with Markus when she met Dad. Putting on a simple jean outfit and her favorite MJ necklace, she left the base to go looking for restaurants. She has a love for different types of food, so she’d gone to a bunsik to try out Korean foods made in the country itself.

Dad usually didn’t go out to eat, but he was feeling down after a student had told him that English gave her a headache and made no sense. I agreed with that part of the story, but I kept that thought to myself! Getting a change of scenery, he found himself in a bunsik, ready to drown his worries away with noodles.

Mom smiles at the memory when someone talks about it. “I remember seeing him walk in looking all sad. He reminded me of a puppy.”

Dad tells it differently. “Sitting at a table was a beauty that couldn’t be found in the entire country. I immediately forgot why I felt sad, and this sudden urge to try and talk to her came over me.”

Mom chuckled. “Our eyes met, and I knew that he was gonna come over and try to talk to me. I’d rejected a few folks there already, and I was surprised at how forward some of them were with their broken English. You should’ve seen their faces when I responded in Korean to them.”

Dad looked like he was reliving the moment. “I told myself that this was my chance! She looked like she was of African descent, but with the American military base so close to town, there was a high chance that she spoke English. I wanted to impress her.”

“Your dad walked over to me, and I crossed my arms. Here comes this man in semi-professional clothes, glasses, and the most obvious bout of anxiety I’d seen since coming to the country. I was curious. What would this kind of guy say?”

“Your mom had this expectant look on her face. It was too late to run away, so I had to try something! Forget English—I didn’t talk to girls other than my coworkers about lesson plans. Instead of dating around, my hobbies took over the bulk of my teenage years and my early twenties. Your grandparents doubted I’d ever have kids.” Dad gave me a hug after saying that. “I’m glad I said what I did to your Mom that day.”

“Once he was in front of me, he stood there frozen. I didn’t say anything, giving him the chance to make the first move. He raised his hand slightly and pointed to the 23 on my necklace and said—”

“I said, in English—”

“I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life.”

Mom said she finished the sentence for him. “And that is why I succeed.”

The quote’s from a famous American basketball player, and Dad used to memorize motivational quotes in English whenever he felt like he wouldn’t go further in his education. Mom used to watch him play basketball on TV up until his retirement.

After a few years in the military, she and her parents were able to sit down and have a conversation. Before coming to Korea, her father gave her a necklace that represented the best part of her childhood.

Now I secretly wear that necklace under my school uniform.

A few dates later, Dad met Markus and immediately grew attached to him.

Several months later, Dad introduced Mom to his family. They were wary at first, but her fluent Korean and amazing cooking skills won them over.

Another year later, Mom didn’t renew her contract with the military, but she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Dad already.

Another year passes and I’m born. Mom and Dad got happily married.

I wish I could say I was the best little kid, but I wasn’t. I used to get excited easily, but that would get me in trouble at school a lot. The other kids would pick on me and I didn’t understand why.

A class picture was all it took for me to understand what was wrong.

I was only 5, and I remember walking home with Mom. I asked her, “Why am I the only kid made of chocolate?”

Mom scoffed at what I said. “Chocolate? Honey, you’re made of love.”

“But the other kids say I’m made of chocolate, and one of them tried to bite me today!”

Mom stopped walking and got on her knees, looking at me from eye-level. “We’re not made of chocolate, caramel, or any of the other sweets used to describe us. You’re a beautiful young girl with my grandma’s beautiful name. Reily means valiant in English. That means you’re brave and strong!” Mom pretended to flex her muscles, and I remember laughing while trying to copy her. “If someone else tries to bite you again, just let me or your dad know. Your dad went to school with some of your teachers, so he’ll be able to talk some sense into them.”

“Okay!” I held Mom’s hand and skipped next to her on the way home.

English class was where things heated up for me.

“Reily, your father teaches English, right?” I’m sorry, I barely know any.

“Reily! I heard you’re half-American. Can you help me with the homework?” I can’t! I may look it, but I don’t speak it!

“Hey Reily, have you ever met Bill Smith?” Just because I look like this doesn’t mean we all know each other!

I started growing sick of it.

All I wanted growing up was to be like everyone else, and yet something I couldn’t control made me look and seem like an outsider to my classmates. It may not look like it, but I’m just as Korean as I am American.

Why am I treated differently just because I block out a little more sunlight than everyone else?

I would keep a straight face during class. I didn’t want anyone to see how much their words affected me. The bathroom was my sanctuary for my first few years of elementary school.

Then, some girls started getting bold.

I wondered for a while if the bullying was my fault. I was scared to tell Mom because she’d put so much faith in me. She thought I was brave and even named me after her grandma! I couldn’t bear to tell Dad that I hated the thought of learning English because I already look foreign enough as it is!

I hated myself.

I wished that Mom and Dad had a kid that looked Korean.

Those thoughts swirled around my head when the bullying began. I accepted every bad word and action thrown at me until I just couldn’t take it anymore. The bullies had gone from making fun of me to making fun of my family. They wondered how a man like Dad could marry a woman that “looked like my mother.”

“Don’t talk about my mom that way!” I didn’t know a thing about fighting, but I had a very soft spot when it came to my family. Mom and Dad have been there for everything, and all they’ve ever wanted for my brother and I was for us to grow up happy and healthy.

I wasn’t gonna let some random girl talk bad about them.

Before I could do anything, I saw another girl sneak up behind one of the bullies and trip her. The girl had shoulder-length brown hair and an obvious snaggletooth. With a devious smile she grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go before they can tell on us!”

The girl and I ran, and this stranger laughed as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

When we were far away from the bathroom, I let go of her hand. We’d run all the way to the side of the school.

I didn’t trust the girl at the time. “You messed up. Now they’re gonna come after you too for helping me.”

The girl shook her head. “It’s a little too late for that.” She lifted the left side of her skirt to reveal a few small bruises. “It’s Year 4 already, huh?” She pulled up one of her sleeves to reveal a small scar. “This one’s from Year 2.” She pointed to another small scar on her neck. “This tiny one’s from last year.” She calmly and happily pointed out the different marks and bruises on her body, but I was confused as to why she’d do that for me.

She was one of them after all.

That thought shocked me at the time. When did I start thinking of people as “us” and “them”? Wasn’t I just as bad for thinking of things in a black-and-white way?

“That’s all for me.” The girl fixed her uniform. “Do you have any bumps or bruises?” I shook my head. The bullying towards me had been verbal, but none of it was ever physical. “I see!” The girl smiled wider. “My big sister says that if someone looks sad while they’re healthy on the outside, then their heart might hurt instead!”

“Their heart?” I was even more confused.

“Yes!” She pointed to her own heart. “Does your heart ever hurt?” I nodded. “Mine does all the time.” She sat down and pat the ground next to her. I took a seat as she spoke. “My mommy is always busy, so I never get to see her. I know she loves me, but I wish she could love me and be there. My big sister can do anything, even the things that Mommy used to do. She’s like a sister and a mommy together!” She giggled for some reason, and the sound alleviated some of the stress I felt.

“Daddy misses Mommy a lot, and he doesn’t talk to me or my big sister as much anymore. I spend a lot of time alone because of it. The only friend I have is Luca, but he might be moving away soon. Once he’s gone, I’ll be by myself all over again.” She shrugged, and I could feel her sadness through it. “No one at school believes that I have a mommy because they haven’t seen her. They hurt me because they think no one will come to protect me.”

There was silence after she said that. I felt bad for her, and I could help but feel guilty too. If I told Mom what was happening, she would’ve stormed to the school and demanded to speak to my teachers. It would be seen as dramatic here, yet there’s nothing you can do when that’s just a cultural part of you.

That’s just how things were in her country.

This girl was going through bullying that was much worse than mine. She had scars and bruises on different parts of her body, hidden by her uniform. She had no reason to help me and did so anyway.

Our problems were in two different worlds, but wouldn’t it be narcissistic of me to assume that my pain was worse than hers without truly knowing how she feels?

I sheepishly asked, “Can we be friends?”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Yes!” She grabbed my hands. “Yes we can! My name’s Lee Sarang. What’s yours?”

“P-Park Reily.” I barely got the name out.

“Reily, huh?” Sarang hopped up and ran around, looking for something on the ground. She bent down and squealed, picking up something green and bringing it back to me. She handed me a three-leaf clover. “This is for you!”

I looked at it, not understanding what she meant. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a promise! It’s also happiness!” I raised my brow in confusion. “Oh, that’s my fault! My big sister loves flowers, and she reads to me about flowers to make me go to sleep, but I remember a tiny bit that she says! In the flower language, clovers mean three things that I know. Happiness, a promise, and revenge!”

“Revenge?”

“Yup!” She nodded happily. “I want you to promise get your revenge on those bullies by being happy.”

I thought about it. “It’s a deal!” Without thinking, I poked her nose.

Sarang’s eyes lit up and I finally laughed. “My mom boops my nose whenever we make promises to each other!”

Sarang laughed with me. “Then I’ll give you something too!” She lifted our hands into the air. “From today on, Reily is gone!” She smiled. “You’ll be happy, just like this Clover!”