Hwang Jung-eun - I'll Keep Going
(1) Soranananagi
What meaning do the three characters of your name hold? Do you assign any meaning to your name, or not? Have you ever felt distressed or happy because of your name? How does your name influence your life? Have you ever considered changing it? If so, why? If you did, what name would you have chosen? I want to hear all your stories about your name.
- My name is Kim Minseok. Analyzing it like Soranananagi, it's sky Min and tin Seok. According to my mom, it means "sky's jewel." Ever since I was very young, I wondered if tin is a gem, if gems and tin are different, or if there was ever a gem called 'stone'. But now, I've decided to just think of it this way: whether it's tin from the sky or a gem from the sky, it's the same mineral. And I believe my mom loved me so much that she combined the two things she thought were best—sky and gem—to name me. The first thing nine out of ten people say when they first meet me and hear my name is, "That's a boy's name~." That's right. My name is a boy's name. I don't know when names started being divided into boy names and girl names, but anyway, my name is a boy's name. I'm just Kim Minseok, and I'm a woman, but people call me a woman with a boy's name. Living as a woman with a man's name in South Korea doesn't seem particularly disadvantageous or advantageous, but the difference is huge depending on the meaning you attach to the name. I attach immense meaning to names and place great significance on the issue of male and female, so throughout the twenty-three years I've lived as a woman with a man's name, there have been many big and small difficult and painful problems. Others often asked if it was really that important, or suggested it was a good thing since it made me more memorable. But the phrase "That's a boy's name, huh?"—which I've heard thousands of times—felt like a constant questioning of my gender identity. Even close female friends often said things like, "I wish Minseok were a boy." That was probably because I often treated my friends like a caring boyfriend would. Like saying "You're pretty" in a caring yet nonchalant way, like a guy would. So I really often wondered if I liked girls, or if I was actually a man. All those thoughts stemmed from my name, and it was because of the "That's a boy's name, huh?" people said when they first met me. So to me, a name isn't just something my parents gave me; it's something that constantly makes me question and wonder about my own existence.
- Lately, I'm taking a summer session class. It's called Engineering Mathematics and Practice 1. I'm not taking it because I want to; I'm taking it because I heard I can't graduate without it. As the name suggests, it's a required course for engineering students. And as everyone knows, there are far more men in engineering. If I delve deeper into the feminism I'm studying diligently these days, might I also understand why men are so heavily concentrated in engineering? Because I believe that physical gender distinctions alone cannot determine any social ability or talent. Anyway, right now, in Room 566 of Building B at Konkuk University's College of Engineering during the 2016 summer session, men make up 90% of the class. Out of over 100 students, there are maybe 10 female students, if that. On the first day, the professor took attendance. He called out, "Kim Min-seok," and I raised my hand from the corner and answered, "Yes." But the professor looked puzzled and then called out separately: Kim Min-seok from Mechanical Engineering, Kim Min-seok from Computer Engineering, and Kim Min-seok from Chemical Engineering. Three Kim Min-seoks in one class? Today, I realize once again that my name is a 'boy's name'.
- So, when it comes to my name, I could spill out too many stories. So I assumed everyone felt such strong attachment and fixation on their own names. I guess some people do, and some don't. Anyway, I am Kim Min-seok. A woman with a man's name. A woman who will be confused about whether she's a man or a woman until she dies. Or a woman who studies feminism to stop being confused. No, before that, a person. A person before a woman. A person named Kim Min-seok before a woman with a man's name. Just a human. The child of Kim Jae-hoon and Go Hyeon-ae.
(2) To Sora, Nana, or Nagi from Mr. Moses
What might Mr. Moses's heart have been like, something we never heard directly? If there's something Mr. Moses would want to say to Sora, Nana, or Nagi from his perspective, please write it down. It doesn't have to be strictly in the form of a letter from Mr. Moses' perspective. It could be in the form of thoughts like, "Mr. Moses probably felt this way," or "This is how he might live." Perhaps to Sora, Nana, and Nagi—all vulnerable and similar—Mr. Moses seemed like an overly rigid and strong person. Let's try to imagine Mr. Moses' perspective together.
- Nana, it's been a long time. This is Moses. How have you been? Is the child growing well? Only now, five years later, do I think I can understand you. No, actually, even now I can't fully understand you. If I truly understood you, I should return to you. I don't know if you'd accept me. But I'm marrying someone else next week. It's clear I still don't fully understand you. Back then, everyone you called Sora, Nana, Nagi, and Aja just seemed strange to me. Was I too young? Or was it because our lived experiences were so different? If you had tried to show me the shadows of that life I hadn't experienced, might we be raising our child together now? I don't really know. I thought people were unchanging beings. Perhaps Nana-ssi thought so too. Someone like me, who lived in a family with parents perfectly suited to society, without hardship, couldn't fully understand the lives of Nana-ssi and those around her. No matter how hard Nana-ssi tried to explain and persuade me back then, I probably wouldn't have understood and just told her to clean up my mess. Perhaps Nana, Sora, Nagi, and Aeja's mother understand this thing called life far better than I do. Nana, please keep living well. Help the child live well too, seeing the deep and wide aspects of life. Tell them I've become a father who understands other people's lives, not the father I made nonexistent just because I couldn't imagine it. Even if I'm not that person now, I'll strive for Nana and for the child. Can I write again? It seems I'll need another ten years to match the pace of Nana's life. I'll write again on the day I can speak words that won't hurt Nana, words that understand Nana's pain. Stay well.
(3) Aeja to Sora and Nana
This is a question similar to #3. This time, it's Aeja. Was Aeja even human after Geumju-ssi died? What did Aeja truly want to tell Sora and Nana? Think about Aeja and what she keeps trying to say to Sora and Nana, then write it down.
- Is there truly someone who lives only for love? Was Aeja really that kind of person? Could someone truly have no reason to live without love? Was Aeja really that kind of person? Could Sora and Nana never have been the object of Aeja's love? Was only Geumju the one who could be Aeja's love? Was love for Aeja an immovable entity? Did it have to remain rooted in that one place? Probably so. That's why Aeja said, (A world without Geumju, the object of my love, is) a matter of indifference, a thing of indifference.
(4) I'll Keep Going
Reading the questions Nana spewed at Nagi (182), I wanted to hold Nana's hand tightly. But I couldn't offer her any trivial comfort, telling her it was okay. After all, navigating this thing called the world is difficult for me too. Nana says, "I'll keep going." Despite the thought that we might be fleeting beings, close to meaningless, or the social damage a child might face—despite all that, Nana says she'll keep going. Is that an expression of will or a hopeful resolution? Or is it the last line of defense for a weak, fragile being enduring life? Please write down what you felt about Nana's bursting questions and her repeated words, "I'll keep going." And please answer the questions Nana poses.
- Nana's questions pierced my heart. I even thought: Can I truly have a conversation with someone who doesn't understand these questions? Because Nana's questions mirrored my own. Her "I'll keep trying" isn't a hopeful declaration. It's merely the bare minimum language a human enduring this life can muster. That's why it pierced my heart even deeper. That's why I resolved to keep trying too. For her, it was the end, but for me, it became the beginning. The repetition: I must keep going, I must keep trying.