Journalist, Author & Syndicated Columnist
In her one-woman show “I’m the One That I Want,” Margaret Cho recalls how getting her own sitcom in the mid-1990s signified acceptance to her–for the first time in her life. What she didn’t realize then was that acceptance came with a price.
“Chink-a-Chink-a Chinaman sitting on a fence; Trying to make a dollar out of 59 cents.” My parents were mortified when their 5-year-old daughter came home from school singing this chant. My friends and I had learned to jump rope to this song from older kids who thought it would be fun to teach a bunch of kindergartners a thing or two. At the time, I had about as much concept of what a “Chink” was as I did the actual value of 59 cents. But I was too young to see past my parents’ forced smiles.
Patti Kim shows the eloquent anguish of an abandoned child in her debut novel, A Cab Called Reliable (St. Martin’s, 156 pp., $18.95 . Her story is told through the eyes of 9-year-old Ahn Joo Cho, a Korean immigrant whose life changes forever when she sees her mother and little brother drive off in a cab. Without her. The last thing she remembers seeing is the word “reliable” on the car door.
I was almost 5 years old when my family moved from Seoul, South Korea, to Chicago. Language barrier aside, I couldn’t figure out why some of my new pals were so excited about the arrival of an old man they didn’t know, who would slide down chimneys that some of them didn’t have, to drop off presents under decorated trees in their living rooms. Couldn’t this Santa person just use the door like everyone else?
Sooyoung Park’s theory is there’s a time and place for everything. When he majored in math in college, he didn’t worry that school was holding back his music career. And when Seam’s singer-songwriter-guitarist felt ready to tackle music full time, he put grad school on hold.