Split Decision
By the time this thing posts, an interview I did talking to writer Greg Pak will be out all over iTunes, Google Play, and YouTube. That particular interview was really personal (and thankfully not heavy-handed; I similarly don't plan to get heavy-handed here) for me because Greg is a half-Korean guy that grew up in the South (Dallas, to be specific) that went on to become one of the more prolific, acclaimed writers of his generation. All the Gladiator Hulk stuff in Thor: Ragnarok? The secret origins of John Wick? That's all Greg and that's just the tip of the iceberg of his career.
Growing up as a Korean-Irish kid in the DC-area wasn't a hardship; it really wasn't. I wouldn't really catch any ill-intentioned racism...until college deeper in the South...the stuff I ran into as a kid warranted more curiosity than animosity. It was just business as usual at home because I have no real basis for comparison otherwise: Starch heavy diets with potatoes and/or rice, having both chopsticks and a fork and knife readily available at the dinner table just like soy sauce along with ketchup and mustard. Of course moms watch Korean soap operas and singing competitions on public access Korean channels every evening. Of course homemade kimchi would be fermented every winter; every family did that right?
My mom had me learn Tae Kwon Do throughout all of elementary school; I was learning how to fight in traditional Korean martial arts long before I ever started to learn how to play music. I think because of that I have a much better sense of rhythm than I do melody (which both amuses and slightly annoys me) because at the end of the day, martial arts is a dance. You spend more time learning forms and stances more than you ever do individual moves; the moves themselves are easy. Throwing a roundhouse kick or a palm strike in it of itself is easy. Linking a roundhouse into a hook kick leading right into a tornado kick takes practice, choreography, and timing. And that's what I would do every evening in elementary school running drills, learning forms and stances, sparring with other kids.
I know I sold myself short on my musical ability in a post a couple weeks ago but let me make up for that here: I was good at fighting; damn good. I can kick high and often and I got fast hands (served me well working keys or strings down the road). When I fight, I take advantage of the space; a lot of fighters would plant their feet but I kind of dance around on the balls of my feet, keep everything loose and ready. And I liked fighting; I would rather spar and put that physical poetry to motion than run drills I had already memorized weeks before. I very nearly earned my black belt (yes, you actually have to register yourself as a weapon once you do).
But as I was learning all that stuff, I became more aware of my racial identity. When I was hanging out with my white friends, I was the Asian kid. When I was hanging out with my Asian friends, I was the white kid. A lot of times, people don't know what the hell I am, they just know I'm not one of them. I'm not a tortured loner, but I was acutely aware (and still am) that I was different. Not better, not worse, just different. There’s a loneliness that goes with that but also a lesson about the value of individuality; people will make assumptions about where you come from but they will know you for what you do. If you were wondering why I can brag quite a bit, that's probably the reason.
That's probably why I ended actively learning martial arts as I transitioned into middle school but the fact I was developing more of a social life was probably an even bigger factor. There were other little things like I was starting to feel a little embarrassed by enjoying kung fu movies and kaiju flicks because it felt stereotypical. But you know what? I love those genres because Bruce Lee and Godzilla are both really fucking cool. The fight between Jackie Chan and Benny "the Jet" Urquidez at the end of Dragons Forever is right up there with Gene Kelly dancing to I Got Rhythm in An American in Paris in terms of choreography for me. Fuck Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, I want to see Godzilla vs. MechaGodzilla!
By my twenties, I was branching out a bit more. I felt like I was diversifying everything I could do: tastes in music and film, learning new languages, traveling more. That meant I was also learning how to box, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and capoeira (which I really took to because that comes heavily from a dance background). But I was starting to come to terms with my mother's death too, the pain was still there (and will always be; especially now during the holidays) but I wanted to face it and grow from it not treat it like something I should be ashamed of. So I started learning how to read and write in Korean which was kind of a big deal. I've been surrounded by Korean text all my life; now I could actually understand most of it. There's a bittersweet element to it all; I always want to share with my mom instinctively that I can read and write in her native language when I notice it. But I can't. Ever the reality check.
But you guys wanted to hear about me and Greg Pak, right? So I mentioned in an earlier post I started to get back into comics in college and the guy writing perhaps the most critically acclaimed stories featuring Marvel's Hulk was Greg. But where I really took notice was that he was a half-Korean dude that grew up in the South that got to write the top books at Marvel; the bamboo ceiling wasn't quite as restrictive as I had thought. And maybe, just maybe, I wasn't quite as alone.
In East Asian cultures, people refer to older men usually in a term that translates roughly to "older brother". A little more having to do with respect than endearment or familial intimacy, I never really felt I had that sort of figure in my life. But Greg is probably as close as it gets. I don't profess to know him personally, but him and I have talked at numerous comic shows around the country over the years and they've always been great conversations. To get the chance to tell him in an interview what means to me, just cut the shit and tell him why he matters, was a really big deal for me. So this post is for my mother and this post is for my older brother.
Growing up as a Korean-Irish kid in the DC-area wasn't a hardship; it really wasn't. I wouldn't really catch any ill-intentioned racism...until college deeper in the South...the stuff I ran into as a kid warranted more curiosity than animosity. It was just business as usual at home because I have no real basis for comparison otherwise: Starch heavy diets with potatoes and/or rice, having both chopsticks and a fork and knife readily available at the dinner table just like soy sauce along with ketchup and mustard. Of course moms watch Korean soap operas and singing competitions on public access Korean channels every evening. Of course homemade kimchi would be fermented every winter; every family did that right?
My mom had me learn Tae Kwon Do throughout all of elementary school; I was learning how to fight in traditional Korean martial arts long before I ever started to learn how to play music. I think because of that I have a much better sense of rhythm than I do melody (which both amuses and slightly annoys me) because at the end of the day, martial arts is a dance. You spend more time learning forms and stances more than you ever do individual moves; the moves themselves are easy. Throwing a roundhouse kick or a palm strike in it of itself is easy. Linking a roundhouse into a hook kick leading right into a tornado kick takes practice, choreography, and timing. And that's what I would do every evening in elementary school running drills, learning forms and stances, sparring with other kids.
I know I sold myself short on my musical ability in a post a couple weeks ago but let me make up for that here: I was good at fighting; damn good. I can kick high and often and I got fast hands (served me well working keys or strings down the road). When I fight, I take advantage of the space; a lot of fighters would plant their feet but I kind of dance around on the balls of my feet, keep everything loose and ready. And I liked fighting; I would rather spar and put that physical poetry to motion than run drills I had already memorized weeks before. I very nearly earned my black belt (yes, you actually have to register yourself as a weapon once you do).
But as I was learning all that stuff, I became more aware of my racial identity. When I was hanging out with my white friends, I was the Asian kid. When I was hanging out with my Asian friends, I was the white kid. A lot of times, people don't know what the hell I am, they just know I'm not one of them. I'm not a tortured loner, but I was acutely aware (and still am) that I was different. Not better, not worse, just different. There’s a loneliness that goes with that but also a lesson about the value of individuality; people will make assumptions about where you come from but they will know you for what you do. If you were wondering why I can brag quite a bit, that's probably the reason.
That's probably why I ended actively learning martial arts as I transitioned into middle school but the fact I was developing more of a social life was probably an even bigger factor. There were other little things like I was starting to feel a little embarrassed by enjoying kung fu movies and kaiju flicks because it felt stereotypical. But you know what? I love those genres because Bruce Lee and Godzilla are both really fucking cool. The fight between Jackie Chan and Benny "the Jet" Urquidez at the end of Dragons Forever is right up there with Gene Kelly dancing to I Got Rhythm in An American in Paris in terms of choreography for me. Fuck Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, I want to see Godzilla vs. MechaGodzilla!
By my twenties, I was branching out a bit more. I felt like I was diversifying everything I could do: tastes in music and film, learning new languages, traveling more. That meant I was also learning how to box, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and capoeira (which I really took to because that comes heavily from a dance background). But I was starting to come to terms with my mother's death too, the pain was still there (and will always be; especially now during the holidays) but I wanted to face it and grow from it not treat it like something I should be ashamed of. So I started learning how to read and write in Korean which was kind of a big deal. I've been surrounded by Korean text all my life; now I could actually understand most of it. There's a bittersweet element to it all; I always want to share with my mom instinctively that I can read and write in her native language when I notice it. But I can't. Ever the reality check.
But you guys wanted to hear about me and Greg Pak, right? So I mentioned in an earlier post I started to get back into comics in college and the guy writing perhaps the most critically acclaimed stories featuring Marvel's Hulk was Greg. But where I really took notice was that he was a half-Korean dude that grew up in the South that got to write the top books at Marvel; the bamboo ceiling wasn't quite as restrictive as I had thought. And maybe, just maybe, I wasn't quite as alone.
In East Asian cultures, people refer to older men usually in a term that translates roughly to "older brother". A little more having to do with respect than endearment or familial intimacy, I never really felt I had that sort of figure in my life. But Greg is probably as close as it gets. I don't profess to know him personally, but him and I have talked at numerous comic shows around the country over the years and they've always been great conversations. To get the chance to tell him in an interview what means to me, just cut the shit and tell him why he matters, was a really big deal for me. So this post is for my mother and this post is for my older brother.
