User:Zuhui/✍️/Bean Sprout Soup and Dignity: Difference between revisions
(Created page with "I keep thinking about one of the last conversations I had with my mother over dinner before I left Seoul. She has never been very expressive of her emotions, nor does she talks much. It’s always been kind of difficult to know what’s on her mind or how she feels. Being her daughter I’ve accepted this as simply part of her personality - stoic, resilient, someone who quietly accepts the reality as it is and keeps her thoughts close.<br> During that dinner, however, s...") |
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I keep thinking about one of the last conversations I had with my mother over dinner before I left Seoul. She has never been very expressive of her emotions, nor does she talks much. It’s always been kind of difficult to know what’s on her mind or how she feels. Being her daughter I’ve accepted this as simply part of her personality - stoic, resilient, someone who quietly accepts the reality as it is and keeps her thoughts close.<br> | I keep thinking about one of the last conversations I had with my mother over dinner before I left Seoul. She has never been very expressive of her emotions, nor does she talks much. It’s always been kind of difficult to know what’s on her mind or how she feels. Being her daughter I’ve accepted this as simply part of her personality - stoic, resilient, someone who quietly accepts the reality as it is and keeps her thoughts close.<br> | ||
During that dinner, however, she shared something that happened when she was a teenager. Now I come to think of it, this incident must have had a big impact on the person she became. | During that dinner, however, she shared something that happened when she was a teenager. Now I come to think of it, this incident must have had a big impact on the person she became. | ||
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Then about a year later, the teacher suddenly disappeared without a word. She just stopped coming to school. A couple of weeks after her disappearance, a group of men showed up, asking questions about her: how she had behaved, what kind of things she said, whether she had been involved in any “abnormal" activities, or if she displayed any “suspicious” behaviour. | Then about a year later, the teacher suddenly disappeared without a word. She just stopped coming to school. A couple of weeks after her disappearance, a group of men showed up, asking questions about her: how she had behaved, what kind of things she said, whether she had been involved in any “abnormal" activities, or if she displayed any “suspicious” behaviour. | ||
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===The book club=== | |||
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Revision as of 14:27, 26 October 2024
I keep thinking about one of the last conversations I had with my mother over dinner before I left Seoul. She has never been very expressive of her emotions, nor does she talks much. It’s always been kind of difficult to know what’s on her mind or how she feels. Being her daughter I’ve accepted this as simply part of her personality - stoic, resilient, someone who quietly accepts the reality as it is and keeps her thoughts close.
During that dinner, however, she shared something that happened when she was a teenager. Now I come to think of it, this incident must have had a big impact on the person she became.
For some context, she was born in the mid-60s and she spent her youth in the turbulent 80s, a time when Korea was still recovering from the colonization and war and trying to rebuild a sense of normalcy. But the country soon fell under a dictatorship which lasted over decades, and the residue of it still affects our lives today.
The teacher
When my mother was 13, a young teacher, probably in her mid to late 20s, was newly assigned to her school. She remembers the teacher as a beautiful, passionate, and intellectual young woman, and they quickly bonded over their shared love of books. Not long after the teacher started a small bookclub which my mother immediately joined.
She and four other students from the club met weekly to read authors like George Orwell, Hermann Hesse, Erich Fromm, Lao Tzu’s commentaries. My mother told me how proud she was to be part of the club, describing it as a kind of secret society, a privilege to be in the teacher’s circle, who she had grown to admire.
Then about a year later, the teacher suddenly disappeared without a word. She just stopped coming to school. A couple of weeks after her disappearance, a group of men showed up, asking questions about her: how she had behaved, what kind of things she said, whether she had been involved in any “abnormal" activities, or if she displayed any “suspicious” behaviour.