Inside of a room filled with the scent of blood and urine, a girl, with a face that no longer shines bright due to days and nights of tortures, ended her life of sixteen years. This story, told relentlessly by my grandfather, belongs to the famous Ryu Gwan Soon, a Korean liberty fighter during the Japanese Occupation of Korea. My father’s side of family gleamed with pride knowing the fact that their family produced the national hero. My mother’s side, on the other hand, gleamed with pride for a very different reason; for supporting the imperial Japanese government, my great grandmother was able to study in Tokyo and become a doctor while her husband was awarded with high-ranking titles and tea plantations. I mainly attribute my love for exploring the ways of resolving cultural collisions or conflicts to the environment I grew up in. Whenever my families from both sides would gather, the endless hours of debates of whether the occupation contributed to the South Korea’s rapid economic growth erupted. But, the fraction between families widened as years went by and it became a seed that eventually sprung up and destroyed my parents’ marriage.
I will never understand why you became so bitter and so 잔인해towards us, but I do know this was one of the many countless reasons why you became a cruel father who has rejected his own children.
And it is so weird to me to witness your facile nobleness on a television but I thank your abandonment, for it has made me experience sorrows that pang and bruise one’s heart.