Mother

I visited a feminism panel discussion a while back. It was a large lecture hall, and was for an hour and a half. The panelists urged for a life `unlike that of my mother’. I had no prior exposure to feminism, so I thought that was quite mean(?) of them, to discredit their mothers’ lives like that. However, as time passed I started to understand them - that what I considered a `mother’s role’, was quite an unfair task. Our society collectively hypnotises women, in the name of motherhood, and urges them to compromise their dreams and passion and pushes them aside to a supporting role. Housework is not an easy task, and the compensation-to-work is crucially low. They have the majority responsibility of their child’s life but they don’t have the corresponding voice in the decision-making process. If there was a job posting like this in Indeed, nobody would apply to it.

My mother’s name is Ji-Young, one of the more common names for Korean women her age. Unsurprisingly, she shares a lot of the life experiences as a lot of Korean women. Ji-Young had a lot of  dreams - she majored in asian art, wanted to learn photography, and does plays, music, fashion, and business management. However this dynamic individual had to set aside those passions after obtaining the title of mother. The daughter became a Chan’s wife, and Billy and Teddy’s mother. Ji-Young had little life outside of being a mother. She looked for good tutors, cooked, and did laundry. She would wait until midnight for her Billy’s tutoring to be over, curled up on the couch, to pick him up. When Teddy got into trouble she felt sad and responsible. Billy and Teddy’s successes and failures were completely her responsibility, and the father was relatively uninvolved except for when the report cards came out. If the socks were in the laundry basket inside out, it was magically washed and organized in the drawer. It’s a rather odd, but we took it for granted - that a mother exists for her children.

As I grow older, I got more objective about these things. Logically thinking, I couldn’t understand why my mother was doing this, and why it was okay for us to take her for granted. I have, rather selfishly, thought that a mother’s happiness was the success of her sons - that me studying hard, and getting good grades would be the entirety of her happiness. Nope, Ji-Young was an individual before a mother, and had dreams of her own.

Fortunately, my mother is slowly becoming Ji-Young again, going on lectures, and managing a company. I was a bit worried. She lived most of her life as Billy and Teddy’s mother. I thought us becoming independent would cause a void in her identity. But Ji-Young was a brilliant woman. She gracefully responded to the demands of society while never forgetting about herself. She constantly studies, and moved forward. When I go back to Korea, she barely has enough time to go on a date with me. But I’m happy.