Let me tell you a tale of a generous friendship that began nearly a year ago and is still unfolding.

     It is the story of a woman who embarked on a journey into the unknown, a journey she knew was incredibly important but for which she had few directions. Throughout that journey, she was helped by many kind strangers. She experienced firsthand a rich culture of which she’d been curious since childhood.  As a result, she and her family were forever changed.

     Where did this wondrous journey take her? Was it to Europe? To Italy? To India?

     No … though it felt worlds away, this journey began just outside her back door. This woman had the rare opportunity to step outside the day-to-day pattern of her life and encounter another segment of her community. In a global world nonetheless divided at times by cultural and racial boundaries, this woman was welcomed—frequently and warmly—into homes, businesses, churches, and people’s lives.

     Kam-sa ham-ni-da.

     If you haven’t figured it out by now, I am that woman and my journey was (and is) that of being welcomed into the Korean-American community here in central PA. I want to thank all of you who have so kindly opened up to me.

     This past February, I served as coordinator for a month long series of programs on Korea at the New Cumberland Public Library. It was important to me that these programs be authentic … a lofty goal for one who was acquainted with a grand total of two local Korean-Americans. Fortunately, my yearning to connect with Korea far exceeded that of most people. Mine was a mother’s calling. I am parent to two of Korea’s offspring.

     I will be honest. At first I did not get much response when I asked for help with the library programs. People did not know me and my guess is that they were wary of “token” programs into which they had been enlisted in the past. Luckily, persistence won out. In January, once the slate of programs was posted, calls began to literally flood the library and then my home. Volunteers made and served mandu. A beautiful fan dancer graced us with her dance. A professor offered his translation skills. One woman with a gift for speaking to children charmed students and teachers from a nearby elementary school. Families loaned hanbok, precious gold tol rings, photographs, books, kim chi pots, and celadon pottery to display.

     But the thing that humbled me most was the way people turned out in droves for programs that I—a non-Korean—had organized. At the library’s SolNal celebration, it was heartwarming to see so many wearing hanbok in support of the event. Two men even jumped up to demonstrate jaegi. After months of holding my breath, I sighed and filled my lungs with the sesame-oil-scented air.

     It can be intimidating to make those first steps into another culture, to be in a room where you don’t know the language being spoken. I don’t need to tell most of you that. Even when your heart wants to connect with those you meet, sometimes language and cultural differences slow or divert that progress. But as each library event passed, I found myself showered with friendship, appreciation, and respect. The Korean language washed over me in a way that surpassed lingual understanding. It was a joy to see what each new day had to present.

     Again, thank you.

     Now I have something more to ask of you.

     I have a dream, one that you can help come true.  It is the dream of a vibrant local group devoted to Korean-American culture and community. It is a chance to continue the excitement and exchange of ideas generated during the library program series.

     For this dream to make sense, let me tell you a bit more about myself. For me, Korea first registered on my radar at age thirteen when my two youngest sisters joined my family. My parents adopted them as toddlers from South Korea. I loved—and still love—them fiercely. This bond led to my husband’s and my decision to honor that family heritage with the adoption of our own children, Nicholas Joon-Ho and Allison Kim Ah-Young.

     Like any parent, I want the best for my children. To that end I have read many books (remember, I worked in a library!) and attended national Korean adoption conferences. Perhaps the most important piece of information gained is the knowledge that my children need regular, everyday contact with other Korean-Americans as they grow.  Not token gatherings (you see, I don’t like them either) but ongoing friendships and activities. Just like my husband and I became part of one another’s families at marriage, our children’s birth family and heritage became integral to our family at adoption. Through my children and sisters, Korea has become a part of me … not through birthright, but in my heart nonetheless. I guess you could call me a Korean-in-law.

     I am not the only one of my kind. There are many families with children adopted from Korea who have been stumbling about trying to make meaningful connections within the Korea-American community. There are adult adoptees who would be proud to add their rightful presence and perspective to the mix as well.

     It goes beyond that. During the last few months, I have also learned that there are many existing area groups (Korean-American churches, business and civic organizations) already working hard to do good things who would benefit from additional support and participation. Whether hosting a Chusok celebration, organizing a Korean school, or raising money for the citizens of North Korea, we have things to offer one another.

     So what is my dream? What I seek is the opportunity to extend the communal nature the library’s nine events evoked into something larger and more permanent. Something that will help us all.

     That something larger has a name. Some of you might have even heard of it. It is called Ta-ri (Korean-American Bridgebuilding Group). This group wants to lift up Korean culture and be a bridge connecting local Korean-American groups with one another and the larger community. As chair of this emerging group, I have been honored to work alongside a host of excellent people. While we are still refining our structure and goals, in general we hope to:

• coordinate and support events that continue to build friendships and cultural understanding. As we get to know one another, who knows what doors will open?
• provide a central source of information for groups and individuals. Maybe you want to promote a church event. Maybe you need an ESL tutor. Maybe you want to be matched with a family who has adopted from Korea. We want to build an online and postal mailing list that will reach large groups of people with an interest in Korea, so that these needs and more can be met through one contact.
• become a visible presence and voice in the community. We want to develop relationships with the media and area institutions responsible for educational and cultural events. These contacts can help us—and help us share—in a multitude of ways.

     Ta-ri’s third meeting is on Saturday, May 21. We will gather monthly throughout the summer (June 18, July 16, and August 20) to get this group formalized. There are already interested people who hail from over half of the area Korean-American churches and organizations. There are also parents who have adopted and some adult adoptees from Korea as well. We’ve had calls from the Governor’s Advisory Council on Asian American Affairs, several colleges, and other significant groups. All important voices for a group that aspires to be a bridge in the community.

     But we need your voice as well.

     We stand at the beginning of something wonderful, if we have the wisdom and grace to cherish it.

     What are your dreams? Come share them with Ta-ri. Please consider becoming a part of this group, in whatever way suits you.
 

<>     You can learn more about Ta-ri by contacting:   info@ta-ri.org  or www.ta-ri.org

     Stacy Schroeder