inicio mail me! sindicaci;ón

Monday January 3, 2005 at 12:57 pm

mirrored from madpimp.com

On a more somber note.

Caution, LONG entry ahead.

Those of you close to me know that recently one of my best friends, someone I’ve known since middle school, came out of the closet recently. Initially, he came out only to his friends — however, due to a certain turn of events, he ended up coming out to his parents this New Year’s Eve.

The details of these events are outlined in the letter that he sent to all of us following this post.

Before going into the post, though, I’d like to say a little something to the first generation Asian society. You know who I’m talking about, Asian parents who came to (not born in) America in the age range of 45-70 with children in the age ranges of 15-40. Yes. I know you’re not listening, and I know that you probably don’t use the Internet… But goddamnit, I need to say this.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I know you reared us and took care of us and went through many toils in order to get where you are today. I know you worked hard to become successful and worked damn hard to keep the same family values instilled in us that were pounded into you by your parents, your society.

I know that by the time you were my age you had seen much more pain, anguish and suffering than I am likely to ever see, living in the heart and the height of a florishing, rich society.

Still, I have to say this.


Fuck you, ASIAN PARENTS

(Immediately I feel guilt. I’ve deleted that last line 5 times. and still I have to say it.) I really mean it, though, and I’ve always wanted to say it.

I know you always intended the best, and that your days were days of ideals, and that you came to America for the American dream. But goddamnit, though your children have grown up and assimilated to the American society, inside the home you still haven’t let go.

I realize that you are afraid if you let it go too much that your culture will be lost — but there are some things I will never understand.

Why, why do you force your children to conform to the image that your culture’s society idealizes? We do not all want to be doctors, dentists, engineers… Why is it then that we are so forced to play your games of power and pride, for what? so that we toil in fields that we hate in order for you to gain reputation in your clique of friends that you have raised children who will make a lot of cash?

Why, why do you force your children to conform to the image that your culture’s society thinks is correct? So what if I’m gay? Why does that matter to you? Why does it shame you so much that I like others of the same sex? I have accepted it. Why can’t you? You say it affects you, but how does it affect you as much as it affects me? Why are you so insistant that we conform to your image?

Why, why do you force your children to conform to the image that your culture’s society developed? Why can’t I marry someone who is from a poor family, why can’t I marry someone whose family used to be low class in your country, why can’t I marry someone who is not of our race, why can’t I marry someone who matches your image of beauty, why can’t I fall in love with who I want if they’re not your image of what is right for me without falling out of your grace.

Wasn’t your dream one of freedom? Then why are your children not free? Why are we still bound mentally by your words, your actions, with shackles from a society that we are not even considered to be a part of?

CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO READ MY FRIEND’S EXPERIENCE

Dear Friends,

Some of you know me as Hyung. Some of you know me as Steve. I am writingto you now to inform you of my current situation at home.

As most of you know, I’ve recently came out as bisexual. To be quitefrank, I’m into the whole “sexuality is fluid”; that my preference isn’t set. Those close to me know that I swore that I’d never come out to myparents. Unfortunately, on New Year’s Eve, I did.

Throughout the winter break, my mother and I argued on many occasions.During a car ride with her, she demanded to know what was the source ofthe animosity. She asked me if I had secrets from her. She took my silence as an affirmation, and before you know it, I came out of the closet.

So went back home, my mom sobbing as we drove home from church. She told me I was going to get AIDS and die. She didn’t believe me when I told her I’ve never experimented with drugs. She said she felt sorry for my father, and feared for his mental health. She suspected that he would kill himself when he learned of it. Panicked, I told her I’d change if she kept it a secret. She simply told me that I had ruined all of our lives, and that I was as good as dead.

At home, my mother fluctuated between pity, sympathy, and disgust. She said she still loved me. Afterwards, she told me I was a dog and a monster. Most of the time she was incoherently praying. We both cried, we hugged, we sat apart.

My dad, who was at church, called to inquire about our absence. My mother lied and said she sprang her ankle. After their conversation ended, my mom told me that once my father got home, she’d inform him, that she couldn’t handle this alone. Throughout the night, I would apologize
incessantly.

My dad came home. I was asked to leave the room as my mother and he spoke. About forty-minutes later, I was asked back into the room. The first thing my dad asked was if I could quit it. I said that I didn’t think I could. Initially, I suspected a theological argument, so I let him know that I no longer considered myself Christian. However, he chose to argue about society. At first, he told me that I wasn’t normal. My parents both firmly believe that because I don’t meet social standards, I should change. I disagreed; if I’m not harming anyone, I’m not obliged to change. I was breaking no law, hurting no other. Then they explained that I was hurting them; news of my ‘sexual deviance’ would ostracize them from the Korean-American community. That I could not argue. They asked me if I could change. I choice to answer vaguely, stating that from what I’ve read, most men attempting to convert committed suicide, or led lives filled with depression. My parents said that I had to change, that it is the only right choice. I told them that I would try to abstain from sexual relationship with men and pay more attention to women while in Davis. I lied; I just wanted to appease them and flee to Davis. I told them I’d leave for Davis the day after. So we went to sleep.

That next morning, January 1st, they informed me that I had to withdraw from school. They were convinced that it was my surroundings that lead me astray. I told them I had to return, and that stripping me of freedom wouldn’t change me. I told them I had no desire to change, that I didn’t think I was wrong, and that the only thing I regretted was hurting my parents. They seemed dumbfounded that I didn’t find non-heterosexuality to be immoral. My dad suggested I take a vacation in Korea.

Of course, I went hysterical. I yelled. They cried. They told me they loved me and that they didn’t want to imprison me, merely heal me. I don’t doubt their sincerity, only their sanity. They told me that I could spend time working out, going to a junior college, or go abroad. But they insisted that I stay in Davis.

They went about their business for the rest of the day, letting me know that they weren’t sure what to do with me yet. They thought it best if I spend some time outside, alone, and blow off some steam. So I went out, and called numerous friends for support. Thank you all for listening.

That evening, I returned home. At that point, nothing had changed. The situation was exacerbated by our language barrier. I can speak and comprehend Korean fairly well, and they… speak enough English to get by. They called my Aunt Angel to mediate, to translate. She came. While she did clarify both of our points, I was a bit annoyed by the fact that she was also completely against my sexuality. The details aren’t important. Ultimately it comes down to this; if I choose to live my life the way I see it, I will rip our family apart. The alternative is to change (to go hetero) if that’s possible, and maintain family unity – in the process, I would lose my identity, which sucks ass. Really gross ass. The one with dingleberries in it. Ew.

They said they were going to go pray at church. I chose to remain at home. I spoke with some friends, got a hold of some numbers. Thanks to everyone who called and cared, you know who you are.

At that point, my parents returned. We had a rather warm talk about despite our differences, we loved each other. I told my parents if family unity meant my disownment, that I was strong enough to manage on my own. My parents said that they would never ‘throw me away’ (heartening, but vague), and that they would never stop trying to help (vague, not at all
heartening).

Today is January 2nd. As I finish this letter, its just 9 pm. My parents have spent almost all day at church, so have spent little time talking. They still believe that what I’m doing is morally wrong, but they are trying to understand how I think. They are also re-considering my school situation, but are waiting for an answer from God. I think the big guy needs to hurry up; school starts soon. If I am not allowed to attend school this quarter, I will use the time to collect funds so I can pay my own way through college. I am not ready to flee just yet – I want to salvage whatever family love I can from this. But I will return; hopefully by the 5th. If not, I will see you all in Spring quarter.

For all those who have supported me, thank you. I wouldn’t be as super-de- duper cool as I am today if it weren’t for all of you (although some of you would argue against the statement. Well, at least the cool part). For all those who sympathize with my situation, you can help out my spreading the word. I want people to hear about my situation. Although I’d prefer that you kept it out the Christian-Korean-American community in the Bay Area because that would make life really tough for my parents (they aren’t bad people!). Do your part and spread tolerance and love. Feel free to use any part of this letter, except for my phone number and address. Those of you who receive the initial copy of the letter (you can tell because it’ll have the phone number and address on it), please send gifts, letters, baked goods, and strippers to the address shown. But no riots / protests (just yet). I’m 5’8.5, average-build, cute, good with kids, etc.

I am emotionally drained, but I am strong. I will see this through. And I will win.

Hyung

Love,
Kim
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