CHANGE

I was recently asked about how I could contribute to the diversity of an organization. It’s not the first time I’ve been asked this question. Here’s my answer:

     I grew up in a very small town in the southeast corner of Missouri, the daughter of very motivated and successful Korean parents. When I was five years old, I had my first brush with prejudice. Jennifer Watson (names have not been changed to protect the perpetrator) refused to let me jump rope with her because I was “too black.” This incident should give some insight into just how “monochromatic” my little town was. It didn’t take long for everyone to realize that this little girl with exotic black eyes and hair straight out of animé was not much different after all.

     I never gave much thought to how my presence anywhere was chalking one up for diversity. My father did, which is why he insisted I attend the Naval Academy to mitigate the losses he deemed would affect me as a “double minority.” When I was recruited for the Korean American Midshipmen Association (KAMA) at the Academy I lasted for one bowl of rice and two plates of bulgogi before I threw in the towel. I told them if I wanted to celebrate and embrace my Korean-American heritage, shouldn’t I be doing it with non-Koreans for impact?

     When I had my service interview to be accepted into the naval intelligence community, a commander asked me how I would deal with being a double minority (my dad was apparently on to something) in a field that was dominated by men. I told him that I would deal with it the way I deal with every situation- do the job and do it well- earn the respect of my subordinates, peers, and superiors not because I’m a woman who can get the job done, or a Korean who can get the job done, but as a person who can get the job done. A month later the commander approached me at half-time of a Navy football game and said he was looking forward to me joining the intelligence community.

     What I am trying to say through these examples is that despite the relative lack of diversity in my hometown and even in Annapolis, I view diversity as the necessary norm. This perspective drives me to break barriers that have been placed in front of so many because of people’s or places’ inabilities to embrace diversity. 

     Ironically, it was neither my ethnicity nor my gender that made me aware of my perceived place in this world- how “diverse” I was. It was my religion. When I converted to Islam almost twelve years ago I had to fight to “fit in” again. I had a woman empathetically shake her head at me and yell across a checkout line that she knew what I was going through because she, too, had lived in Saudi Arabia (where I had never been). A young man at an ATM machine told me that “my people” should go back to “where you came from.” An associate at Radio Shack told me that they didn’t carry an international TV antenna because, “this is America!”

     These incidents reminded me that books can very often be read by their covers, and that my view of diversity is not necessarily embraced by everyone. I don’t resent that. I don’t fight back combatively. But, I am driven to change what is all too often the response to these types of verbal presumptions. The type of response that the Muslim community newspaper hoped I would engage in.

     I fall back on why I left KAMA, instead introducing seaweed sprinkles and white kimchee to all of my American friends. I defer to staying quiet on the line while a client I haven’t met complains to me about the strange Muslim he’s dealing with, and then cordially meet him the next day at Starbucks (wearing a headscarf) to discuss our contract. I go back to telling the present editor of the newspaper I began that I think he’s being unprofessional and doing a great disservice to the Muslim community by printing what I believe to be a propagandistic collection of biased editorials paraded as news.

     I have always been fiercely motivated, disciplined, and independent. As a now “triple minority,” the very best I can do is be the best person I know how. I value integrity, honesty, and flexibility. Life and work is full of unanticipated twists and turns that manifest themselves in all sorts of crazy ways. I cherish these twists and turns. I thrive on creating solutions that hopefully bring people together in new and unanticipated ways.

     I always tell people that I am a mutt: “I am the strangest Korean you’ll ever meet. I’m tall, I’m not lithe, and I wear a headscarf.  I’m an American Korean who married an Egyptian who has predominately Pakistani and Naval Academy friends. I only read French, only understand Korean, and read, speak, and understand Arabic. I can make a mean Korean-Pakistani version of a typical Egyptian dish.”

     My own diversity enables me to see past people’s differences and focus on the truth of their likenesses.