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When I think of the word race, culture, and ethnicity, the first thing that comes up into my mind is “diversity”. The word, “race” is a big issue in every country and I think the best way to get rid of stereotypical view of other races would be understanding and realizing that although a person may look or act different than you, that does not make them of a lower or undesirable status.
 
I consider myself a Korean. Some people want to know whether I am from North or South Korea, but I do not understand why that matters that much. Although I was born and raised in South Korea, I am half North Korean. My grandparents (my mother’s) are from North and I do not feel ashamed or embarrassed by this. My grandparents escaped from North during the Korean War. My grandfather fought for South and he is a doctor. I am very proud of my grandparents. I know that North Korea is famous for its nuclear bomb and Kim Jung Ill, but that does not mean that all the people in North Korea are bad or evil. Therefore I would not specifically call myself as South Korean or North Korean, I am Korean. In my opinion, the range of being “Korean” would be people who were born and raised in Korea to the people who have at last 1percent of Korean blood.

Growing up in Korea was very different from growing up in America. When I was in Korea, I grew up being told to be respectful, peaceful, and obedient. Every single time I was spoken to, I listened to elders and my parents. I did and followed whatever they told me to do. Due to this, I learned that the way a person grows up could really change their minds and points of view. For example, there used to be no white or black people living in Korea. These days, I do see them more often because I live in capital city and it has been changing a lot.  Before, when I was young, I thought all the black people were mean and dirty people. Also I thought all the white people were pretty and rich. The main reasons why I had these misconceptions and stereotypes are because of our media. I had never met black or white people so I relied on the movies or TV shows in Korea. Also many elders told me to be careful in America and to behave well because they thought black or white people might physically hurt me. I realized that this was totally wrong. 

Name:Park Ji Hyun
Grade:10th
School:Cambridge School of Weston

포커스에 나오는 Essay입니다. 번역해 봅시다.

Name: JiYoung Kim
School: Northfield Mount
Hermon School
Grade: 10th

I am a strong girl. I had believed tears show one’s weakness, so no tears had formed in my eyes for the past three years. These three years became meaningless with just one phone call.
“Your grandfather passed away this Wednesday.” I cried like a baby; I cried and cried until my body got exhausted and stopped producing any more tears.

Since I was little, my grandfather had been suffering from diabetes. His health worsened monthly, sometimes even daily. I remember thinking, ‘what would I do if I am away in the U.S. when he passes away?’ As an international student, I was usually more than five thousand miles away from where he was. ‘Would I take plane back to Korea right away? Or would I just stay in school and finish academic curriculum until a break starts?’ The answer was to finish my respo nsibility as a student, but I did not make the decision. I actually did not have choice; it was clear that my parents did not want me to come back.

For days after grandfather’s death, my parents did not call me to inform me about his death. It was Saturday when I called them to say ‘hi’ and noticed depression and frustration in their voices. I understood they did not want me to get heart broken when they could not be beside me, but I was still frustrated at the fact that they were thinking of hiding my grandfather’s death from me. They were wrong if they thought I was on my own to handle the despair. I had my friends.

My best friend was beside me when I was hugging the phone and was having a good cry. She never said, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t cry.” She just hugged me and let me cry as much as I needed to. For hours she just watched me cry. That day, she was my mom and my guardian.

There is no need to share a story of someone’s passing away, so I did not tell anyone but one trustworthy person. He and I were not too close of friends, but we trusted each other to be reliable. “Don’t blame your parents because they didn’t let you know you right away. When I was five, I was in Paris, and my grandmother passed away.

My mom called me and told me right away. I had a very close relationship with my grandmother, so I remember being heartbroken for a long time. I sometimes imagined how nice it would have been if my mom held on to the news until I was ready. I know that you are a strong girl, but next time when you are going through so much, just call me and cry. Don’t carry it all by yourself.” What he told me made me feel much better and cheered me on a lot. He opened up to me; he trusted me back enough to share his own story.