Trafficking of Children

It's hard to imagine what it would feel like as a parent to have my child abducted. It's harder to imagine what it would feel like to know he/she would be sold to a trafficker.

I came across this article in the New York Times as I was doing some research for a paper that I'm writing for a class. There are simply no words that can express the sorrow and anger I feel.

We're taught, especially in higher institutions of learning, that humans are intrinsically good and that evil exists because of corruption in society. But I don't buy it. How can one justify the essence of humanity's goodness when millions of people are involved in the trafficking of kids?

And what is more saddening is that there are not nearly enough people who care about this. Too busy worrying over the 401k and job security in this economic crisis. Are we that self-absorbed that we tolerate selling of children into brothels, into warfare, and into other abhorrent places?

Sadly, I think we are.

World Baseball Classic

Last night was the championship game of the World Baseball Classic (WBC). The inaugural WBC was played in 2006, with Japan beat Cuba in the finals by the score of 10-6. Three years later, with the WBC garnering more international interest, the championship game pitted Korea against the defending champions and bitter archrivals, Japan. Under the lights of Dodgers Stadium in Los Angeles, the game certainly did not disappoint fans of all stripes. It was a thrilling extra-inning affair, with Japan coming out on top 5-3, much to the agony of Korean fans all over the world.

People suggest that I have an identity crisis. Having lived in the United States for all but three years of my life, I am automatically assumed to have my loyalties towards America in all things. But that hasn't always been the case. Often times in international competitions such as the Olympics and the World Cup, my allegiance has usually gone to the place where I was born. And people question how I can do that when realistically speaking, I have far more connections with America than I do with Korea. To them, the only answer I have is that I don't know. All I know is that for some reason, I have a deep sense of nationalism towards Korea, and I don't perceive this to die down anytime.

This morning, I was asked by a non-Korean friend why Korea-Japan rivalry is such an emotional affair. One word: nationalism. It is very much like the Yankees-Red Sox, Michigan-Ohio State, Lakers-Celtics, and North Carolina-Duke rivalries in American sports. The only thing is that this is exponentially more intense because there's political, historical, and social components to the Korea-Japan rivalry that doesn't exist in a domestic sports rivalry. For many Koreans and first generation Korean-Americans, emotions can run high when it comes to anything related to Japan, as Japan raises memories and stories of atrocities committed by Japan during its colonization of Korea from 1910-1945. Such resentment towards Japan continues to be fueld by modern political developments such as the Dokdo/Takeshima island dispute, visits to the Yasukuni War Shrine by Japanese leaders, and Japanese revisionist history textbooks.

I understand that from an American perspective, it can look highly irrational and even annoying that a small country with under 50 million people goes crazy every time there's some international competition. But with such sporting events is the power of the "rally-around-the-flag effect." For a country whose people have felt betrayed by the world since 1895, lived under three decades of brutal Japanese colonialism, and bordered by a menacing nuclear threat, Korea's "rally-around-the-flag effect" includes the performances of its athletes in the world's greatest stages as well as high profile Koreans breaking glass ceilings in academia, American politics, international politics, and so on and so forth. To put it very bluntly, this, I don't think, can ever be truly understood by an American in a world dominated by the United States.

With this being said, it is no surprise that Dodgers Stadium was filled with tens of thousands of Koreans with their Thunderstix screaming "Dae Han Min Gook" for four hours straight. And even though I have two papers due this week, I rushed home from the library to watch this epic game on my couch and unable to hide my anxiety throughout the game. And even despite the loss, I am still proud of the team for reaching the finals and showing the world that Korean baseball has arrived in the big stage. And even though they did not win, I'm still going to buy this.

Two Sides

There are two sides to every story.

Today, the International Criminal Court issued an arrest warrant for the president of Sudan, Omar Hassan al-Bashir. It represents the first arrest warrant for a sitting leader of a country. Many have heralded the move as a great thing because of the crimes against humanity that al-Bashir is accused of in Darfur. It could set a precedent to other dictators and perpetrators of mass injustice against their own citizens.

But I am not necessarily celebrating like many others are. Why? It is not because I believe al-Bashir is innocent. By all means, I think he is a ruthless dictator that embodies evil for the intentional slaughter of his own people in Darfur. So why am I not exuberant? It is because the ICC has no mechanism to forcibly arrest al-Bashir unless he were to step out of the country and be caught by international forces. The arrest warrant is simply a powerless political tool to convey a message without teeth to enforce it. However, it gets worse. The arrest warrant has provoked al-Bashir to action; he has kicked out humanitarian NGOs that provided a bulk of the administration of humanitarian aid to the Sudanese in retaliation against his perceived adversaries. So while the issuance of an arrest warrant is a great symbollic gesture, it has led to a negative side effect of kicking out organizations helping the needy in Sudan, making the humanitarian situation in Sudan even worse than before.

This is one of the fundamental problems of international human rights advocacy. States have limited power to affect another state's human rights record without considering military actions, which most states will never consider for a humanitarian need after the U.S. debacle in Somalia in 1993. I do not mean to rain on the idealists and champions of human rights all over the world. I do wish, alongside them, that human rights will be promoted from the gulags of North Korea to the plains of Darfur. But the more I study, the more I'm beginning to see that change must come from people's convictions and not governments' actions. It is the concept of the power of one person that will tidal wave into a movement to create external (and sometimes internal) change. It is by no means easy, and often does demand blood,sweat, and tears (and very much likely sacrifice of lives in the case of repressive governments like al-Bashir's). But I'm convinced that the will of the people will triumph and grassroots movements is the only viable means to see that systematic genocide will cease to be a state's political goal.

Friends

This past weekend was Paul and Gina's "wedding" in Chicago. It's always awesome to see two friends come together and be able to celebrate their joyous occasion. It was also great to reconnect with old friends again, especially some whom I have not seen in quite awhile. Even though there was not enough hours in a day to catch up with all of them, it felt great to see familiar faces again.

On the way home, I realized how special these friends were. I remember coming to college thinking that my high school friends would be the people that I could lean on and call friends for the rest of my life. But years later, I can safely say that although I still cherish my high school friends, at least those that I've still kept in touch with, the friendships made in college are the ones that have lasted.

I'm not sure why I got really sentimental last night. It's not like it was the first time I've had reunions of sorts with some college friends since I've graduated and/or moved out of Ann Arbor. But for some reason, I really began to think about the friends I had made in college and how influential they've been in my young life. As I was talking to those friends that I only get to see at a big gathering of sorts, it's awesome to know that distance won't keep me apart from them. One of the things I'm learning is how much more valuable depth of friendship is to me than quantity of friends I have. Some friends have truly walked through the valleys with me, witnesses to God's continual redemption project. Some are relatively new friends, but equally as influential in my current state. Regardless, these are the brothers and sisters that I've come to appreciate--their hilarity, their rebukes, their prayers, their care, their concerns, and their company.

Even though my friends maybe all around the country and the world, they are still my friends whom I can trust. Though they are not perfect, they continually point me to the perfect one. That is all I can ask for.

Insurgency

One of the classes I'm taking this semester is a class on insurgency. The overarching theme of the class is what factors contribute to the rise of insurgency movements--from the Jewish revolt against the Romans in the first century to the Iraqi insurgency in Fallujah--and what can be done to counter insurgency movements. It is a very fascinating class, and I'm glad I decided to take this class.

This past week (when I wasn't stressing over my nuclear proliferation paper that was due yesterday), I read one book and skimmed another that dealt the role economics plays in insurgency movements. It is generally accepted that insurgents gain momentum in places with abject poverty. I'm not convinced that abject poverty alone is the cause of all insurgency movements (there was a well-known study done by a University of Chicago professor who analyzed data of every terrorist activity in the past three decades and more than 75% of them were middle-class men). But I do believe there is an association between poverty and insurgency. One of the books (the one I read) talked about the "bottom billion" who have missed the boat of rapid globalization and are trapped in poverty that will be really hard for them to get out of without the assistance of the developed world and good governance. The other book (the one I skimmed) talked about how foreign aid doled out by the developed world is not doing much to solve the issue of poverty and is, in fact, perpetuating it in many regions of the world. If you are interested in international affairs, international development, public policy, human rights, etc., I strongly urge you to pick up either or both these books. Or if you have free time and want a good read, you should too.

That being said, this class has also given me the opportunity to research about a particular insurgency that I have personal attachment to. In 2007, I went on a summer trip to the western part of China, home of ethnic minority groups such as the Uyghers and Hui people groups. Previous to that trip, I had never heard of them, and so when I went, it was fascinating to learn about their culture and history (I admit it. I'm a nerd).The Uygher people have been the object of many oppressive policies throughout much of its history. They've been in the news in and out throughout the latter part of the 20th century, most notably by the atrocities committed against them by Mao and the Cultural Revolution. Independence movements have been ferocious at times, and now the region is considered to be a hotbed of rising terrorism, particularly troublesome with Afghanistan sharing part of its border. With the U.S.'s war on terror fully operational, the Chinese government saw that as a carte blanche to crack down on these so-called terrorists/separatists. There are many Uyghers being held in Guantanomo Bay as a result of the war on terror.

All this being said, reading up on material on the Uyghers and separatist movements in XinJiang has been making me nostalgic about that trip. I've talked to some friends I went with, and all the more, it makes me want to make another trip out there. But somehow, I don't think that'll be possible, at least not anytime soon. But in the end, I'm remembering to keep that people group in prayer, a people group lost without hope.

Kristof Essay

Two years ago, Nicholas Kristof opened up a yearly opportunity for a student to go on a reporting trip with him to the developing world. Now that I am a student and therefore eligible, I decided to put my name in the running. I had to write a 700-word essay about why I would like to go on this trip.

I don't expect to win, of course (realistic expectations). But the self-inflicted grueling process of writing a 700-word essay was a good exercise in communicating why I'm here in Washington and doing what I'm doing. I'll be the first to admit that in the company of type A personalities who are driven by worldly ambitions, it's really hard to keep my intentions pure and holy. I catch myself chasing after the dreams of being significant and doing all these glorious things for myself rather than building the kingdom of God. This exercise helped ground me to some degree. I've decided to post it online to share with you. I went through nine drafts before I finally (primarily because I ran out of time) submitted this one to the New York Times. I'm not perfectly pleased with it (since when I am ever?), but it's good enough. Enjoy.

I’m usually not a talkative person, but I love telling stories. Whether in short prose, blogs, or other avenues, I want to tell stories that I find interesting. My creative writing professor taught me a lesson I’ll never forget: “Find your own voice. And find your own story to write.” With the help of The Times, I wish to tell more stories in my own voice—stories of struggle and triumph, stories of injustice and hope, stories to awaken the souls of the world to the cries of the voiceless. And more than my desires to tell a good story, it is my conviction to help others that fuels me to seek this opportunity.

This conviction to help those most in need took root during my last semester in college. Prior to then, I had been your run-of-the-mill, self-absorbed teenager who could care less about human suffering. But it was largely the writings of Nicholas Kristof that brought me out of my bubble and into a world where systematic injustice existed, even though I had lived through my share of economic inequality, racism, and xenophobia. Being immigrants, my parents worked more than twelve-hour shifts in laundromats and grocery stores to barely make ends meet. Growing up unable to speak English, I was spat upon and made fun of countless times in school. My own teachers called me by racial slurs. I thought I knew all there was about injustice—until I realized that I would never be sold into brothels like the women whom Mr. Kristof had interviewed for his articles dealing with sex-trafficking in Cambodia. It was then that the words of Edmund Burke echoed in my head: “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

I soon found myself on a plane to Cambodia, partnering with an organization to provide a means of livelihood to people whose own government labeled a lost cause. Many of them were stricken with leprosy and/or other diseases, and they were thrown out of society to fend for themselves. Even worse, their children rummaged through garbage to find food to eat and things to sell. As I watched in horror, I could no longer justify my indifference. I needed to do something.

The organization I worked with had built a school to provide free education for children in the area. I volunteered to teach and give them a childhood that I believed they deserved. Our team introduced them to games that we had grown up with—four corners, tag, jump-rope, and the likes. We wanted to enable their dreams and provide a safe environment, away from traffickers that were always lurching in the villages.

Three weeks later, I came back to America changed. I can’t completely say that I was no longer entirely self-absorbed and indifferent, but I wanted to find meaningful ways to get involved in making this world a better place.

Today, I am a graduate student studying international politics as it relates to injustices faced by children, the most vulnerable elements of society. Children actively fight grown men’s wars, labor in atrocious sweat-shops, and service tourists in brothels. More often than not, their plight has largely gone ignored and their stories have reached deaf ears. They are victims of the truest sense of the word, and I can no longer stand idle as they are taken advantage of.

I am no journalist. I am a student with a drive to keep learning. I am a political scientist who loves to capture stories. I am a human being who wants to make a difference. And I am not perfect. I am sure there are many others who are more qualified than I am. But what I lack in experience and ability, I bring relentless passion, deep-rooted conviction, and steadfast devotion. My out-of-the-box thinking, communication skills, and technical experiences, including photography and videography, will be an asset to your team. But most importantly, this trip will give me a unique experience of translating my interests in politics, writing, and humanitarian work into a lifelong commitment to combating injustice in the developing world as well as a medium to mobilize others to do the same.

25 Random Things

To follow on the 25 random things about me trend on facebook, here goes my list:

1. The first memory I have is when I was around four years old. My dad chased away a would-be carjacker...with me in his arms. Oh and my dad couldn't speak English at the time.

2. I grew up in a predominantly Jewish and Italian neighborhood. Up until 5th grade, my childhood friends were Jewish, including one of my closest friends named Asaf. But I never went to a bar mitzvah because my parents didn't know what that was and didn't let me go.

3. I went through 2.5 years of ESL classes. I loved it at the time. Only later did I realize that my peers were making fun of me because I couldn't speak English (I didn't understand what they were saying).

4. When I was in 5th grade, I wanted to become a cartoonist for Disney. My 5th grade teacher also taught art and he loved cartoons and inspired me to want to draw. Needless to say, that did not pan out.

5. The only movie I remember ever crying in is Saving Private Ryan when Tom Hanks' character is on the bridge after being shot and tells Matt Damon's character to "earn it." What a touching moment.

6. I almost didn't go to Stuyvesant High School even though I had gained admittance. I wanted to go to high school with my friends, who were going to Tottenville High School. But my parents forced me to go to NYC's premier high school instead. I don't regret it now.

7. My dad loved to travel. Every year we would take a roadtrip as a family to various places across the United States. I hated some of the trips, but looking back, I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to spend so much time with my family in going to so many places that many of my peers can only dream about.

8. I almost drowned in Jones Beach when I was really young when a tide came in and knocked me under the waves. Ever since then, I am not a big fan of swimming although I do know how to swim now.

9. When I was 9 or 10 years old, my cousins and I went to Great Adventures in New Jersey. We got on this ride that would gradually flip us upside down. That particular day, the ride malfunctioned and we were left hanging upside down for awhile. I've never enjoyed amusements park ever since then.

10. I went through a rebellious stage during junior high school. I would instigate fist fights between friends, order Indian food to a friend I didn't particularly like (but we were still friends, which I don't understand), and egg cars during Halloween.

11. I had no intention of even applying to the University of Michigan. I submitted my application past the deadline. It was the first school that I heard back from.

12. I found myself very close to being put on academic probation during the first two semesters of college. I never went to class despite taking Orgo I and II, Calc I and II, Engin 100 and 101, and Physics I and II. How I managed to graduate in 4 years and get into graduate school still confounds me.

13. I am a closet nerd. I grew up loving to read. I still do. And I love what I'm studying right now (international politics).

14. I'm a better communicator in writing than I am in person. I can passionately argue and debate in writing; I am far less effective in person.

15. I started listening to Korean music in junior high school. I listened to it religiously up through college. Now it is somewhat behind me. I have not kept up.

16. One of my guilty pleasures is to watch Korean dramas. But I only watch one or two dramas in a given year. And its usually a show that has one of my favorite actresses in it, who I think is one of the hottest women. Period.

17. I have a hat fetish. I love buying baseball caps. The only bad thing is, I have a tendency to lose a lot of them.

18. I have had the same aol screenname since freshman year of high school: xlazybuttx. I still use "lazy" or "lazybutt" as a nickname for things like tshirts, video games, bowling, etc.

19. I am not the most musically talented person in the world, although I did take piano lessons for years. I do, however, love to go karaoking. I miss my NRB crew.

20. I am good at disguising my emotions to a fault. I am exceptionally guarded and have a hard time opening up to anyone. My inner circle is really small. I need to work on this.

21. I've always wanted to be a National Geographic photographer. I've also wanted to film a documentary to raise awareness and start a movement.

22. Nicholas Kristoff is one of my heroes. I would like a job like his: to travel the world and report on social issues that should matter to everyone. William Wilberforce and Adoniram Judson are two other heroes.

23. I'm not particularly a picky eater, but I hate fish. But I love other types of seafood like crab, lobster, muscles, shrimp, oysters.

24. I'm allergic to fresh apples and peaches. But I'll still eat them because they are so yummy. I am also allergic to bee stings. If I get stung, I need to be rushed to the emergency room or hit up with an epi-pen or I will die.

25. People's first impression of me is that I'm serious and intimidating. I don't know why. In fact, I love to laugh a lot. Even if its not that funny, I'll probably be found laughing. And they say I have a weird and unique laughter. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.