This Month’s Theme is
Border
•
Border •
Crossing the Line
-Between You and Me
by Minehee Yeo
“You are my universe.” says the boy.
She smiles and quietly embraces him.
“I need you” claims the boy.
She nods and stays by his side.
“I want to move” crawls the boy.
She softens the friction on the floor.
“I want to stand” tries the boy to walk upright.
She holds his hands and walks with him.
…
“How was your day?” asks the woman.
He shrugs and dives into his cave.
“Dinner is ready” knocks the woman.
He wears his Nova Pro Wireless and covers his ears.
“Please take a good care of yourself” prays the woman.
He is too excited to embark on a new journey.
“Oh you are back!” rejoices the woman.
He puts his suitcase down and embraces her.
…
“How have you been?” asks the boy.
She smiles and prepares the dinner.
“I’ve missed you” answers the woman.
He looks around and acknowledges the signs of wear and tear.
“You are my motherland” assures the boy.
She takes his hand and puts it on her chest.
“I am very proud of you” proclaims the woman.
He is ready for a good night sleep for tomorrow’s early flight.
by Suyoung Park
Blimey, can I make it past that border...? Still miles to go—feels like I’ll get there by next century at this pace!
Border
by Namoo Chae Lee
Whenever I cross the border, my life resets. I lose all the social context that defined me - my family, my age, my education and career - and I get to have a chance to be someone different. Except that I can’t decide who I can be, it is on the eyes of the beholders in that existing society.
I often call myself a professional foreigner. There is a strange power in being an outsider, you are free from all the expectations. Society expects foreigners neither to fit neatly into its norms nor to follow its unspoken rules. Instead, it watches them with suspicion, sometimes with curiosity, but most of the times, with indifference. This very perception gives me the biggest gift, the sense of freedom. Crossing the border, you shift your identity. My strong and prominent calf muscles can be beautiful in the US and ugly in Korea at the same time. This fluidity is both exhilarating and disorienting. It inevitably leads me to question who I truly am, away from all those societal ornaments that I have.
This freedom does come with a great cost. The same freedom that allows me to redefine myself also isolates me. After crossing several borders, I have lost the place to belong - being erased from my homeland when I am still not fully part of the society in my immediate physical location. The biggest problem arises when a foreigner tries to belong to that society. I’m too American in Korea, too Korean in the US, and weirdly American in the UK.
Borders, then, are paradoxes. They divide, yet they also liberate. They impose rules, yet they allow for rebellion. Every crossing is a chance to leave something behind and embrace something new. And so, I continue to move, to shift, to become. Each border is not an end, but a beginning.