Sometimes being an outlier can be rewarding, but right now it's pretty confusing.
I'm always excited about the Olympics--I mean, it's always exhilarating to watch internationally recognized athletes compete with each other, and try to out perform their personal own best--but yesterday made me stop and think.
The South Korean short track speed skating team has done fairly well in Vancouver, with Lee Jung-Su with two gold medals, and Lee Ho Suk winning a silver medal in yesterday's race. After the horrible crash in the short track 1500 race, I was hoping for the three athletes (Lee Jung-Su, Lee Ho Suk, and Sung Shi-Bak) to have another chance to even slightly raise their self-esteem.
And for the most part, they seemed to work harder, and won two medals! (I felt sorry for Sung Shi-Bak, who seemed very disappointed at not qualifying for the finals. He was denied a medal because of the earlier mistake by his teammate, Lee Ho Suk as well.)
Better luck next time Sung Shi-Bak! Don't be discouraged and continue to try hard.
And Apollo Ohno managed to pick up a bronze, which is fairly commendable. Unfortunately, my favorite US speed skater (J. R. Celski) didn't qualify.
So I was in a pretty good mood! As a proud Korean-American, I was happy for both Korea and America's medals.
But my friend decided to text message me after the race, asking if I had watched it.
She said that she was proud of Apollo Ohno being a good sport, and that the Koreans were wrong in disliking Ohno. She also mentioned that the Korean people threatened Ohno, and prevented him from entering Korea during the 2002 Fifa World Cup. She also said that the Korean skaters were "sore" losers (which is ironic, because they won, and they were courteous about it). She also brought up the controversial Salt Lake City disqualification.
There goes my good mood.
This girl is a good friend of mine, and I didn't expect these words from her. She did end up saying that she believed that the Koreans were great skaters, and that she "would never hate them", but we obviously have some different perspectives.
As a Korean-American, I sometimes feel torn in between two cultures. I thoroughly enjoy watching the Superbowl (especially when the Steelers are playing!), but would probably be watching while chomping on a bag of spicy Sewookkang--check out this website if you don't know what I'm talking about. I could be chattering away to someone in Korean, but could be talking about my English homework.
But because I am a KOREAN-American, many of my friends around me seem to forget that I am American as well. I understand them--I don't look like all of them, I don't speak like all of them, and I lead a generally different lifestyle. And when I cheer for Korea in various events, I become a foreigner to them.
While the Winter Olympics are meant to symbolize unity between the nations on Earth, it doesn't seem to helping my identity crisis at all.
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