One of the (many) challenging things about growing up among the youngest of seven siblings in a traditional patriarchal household was that I felt without voice. My father took up most of the air in the room and my basic, learned understanding of the world was that my parents and five older siblings knew more than me. I cannot conjure up a single memory of being asked for my opinion.
It's probably no surprise that sharing, listening, and engaging is a huge part of my identity now.
One of the greatest gifts since starting to write for major media outlets this year has been something I have heard from people often: that I am able to articulate the struggles, points of relief, and questions people have rattling around in their brains but can't put to words. And in doing so, that I make people feel seen and validated. It has meant so much to me to connect with people this way in a medium – the written word – that I love so dearly.
This past week, my latest piece (A former career isn’t a waste of time and money. It’s learning.) went live online and in print at Boston Globe Magazine and I was completely floored by the public and private response, both to my sharing of the piece, as well as an incredible tweet from the editor of the magazine, Francis Storrs. Apparently the challenges and gifts and normalization of career jumping was a story that needed to be told.
And then this morning, I received a message from a reader who was inspired by my essay. This person is a teacher who lost their job in the wake of the pandemic and was at a loss over the prospect of starting a new career in their 40s. Inspired by the story, they applied for a job in a different field, was interviewed, and shared that it appeared they were on their way to a new career.
What an incredible gift it was for that reader to share their story with me. What an honor it is to play a small part in that person's journey. I can barely wrap my head around it.
By the time I was preparing to leave academia, my father had died, and while my mother and I had many years of loving relationship and two-directional communication under our belts, she issued a statement that is not typically issued by striving Korean parents. Instead of chastising me for wasting my career or disappointing my elders, she said, “Christine, I just want you to be happy.” It was so moving to be seen and heard by her in that moment, and she has continued to be one of my biggest champions since. (The photo above is from her birthday on Monday. Please, Lord, let me be as lovely and bright in spirit when I am 85 years old.)
This pandemic has tested relationships like no other time. I have been struggling mightily with a number of relationships that feel painfully lopsided. I encourage you, in your next conversation, to encourage real, true relational communication – to truly listen, to reflect back, to share.
Your words – and your capacity to hold space and listen – could mean the world to someone else.
p.s. I have also recently written a few pieces for CNN on sex ed, brain development, and feelings as it relates to tweens and teens. You can access all those pieces here.
