Tag: lgtbtq+

Lori Song, 65, was born and raised in Los Angeles to Korean and Japanese parents who arrived in L.A. from Hawaii in the 1950s. She has a twin brother who looks just like her, and a younger brother as well; with regards to her mixed heritage, she describes herself as a “fourth generation person on both sides.” From as early as she could remember, Lori recalls how she had always felt a sense of relief when cross-dressing, and remembers how transformative the first time she wore women’s clothing from head to toe had been. She recalls, too, how difficult her teenage years were (though she states that “teenage years are hard, no matter the era); eventually, Lori decided to give one last shot in “trying to be a man,” but knew, deep down, that it wasn’t who she really was. Slowly, she began coming out to her friends and family, and although some responses have been more lukewarm than others, she feels joy in how today’s younger generation are accepting of her as who she is. Recently, Lori began hormone therapy, and although she says that changes have been slow because she started later in life, she encourages us to “be brave enough to just do your thing,” no matter how young or old we might be.

Mudang Sung Park (he/him) was born in Seoul, Korea, and immigrated to the Ridgewood/Bushwick area with his family when he was young. Growing up, they were the only Korean family—or East Asian family, for that matter—for blocks around, and although Sung tried his best to reproduce the joys of his Korean childhood from within New York, his new environment slowly changed aspects of his personality. Encountering racism as a child, he became withdrawn, and was disappointed that the racism followed him into college, where he was battered with microaggressions ranging from compliments to his English, to students touching his soft hair.

Sung always knew that he was born in the wrong body, but being “queer” was something he attributed to whiteness. And there was another complication to his gender: like many Korean Americans, Sung grew up in the church, and came from a family of ministers. After college, he went to seminary, where he obtained a divinity degree, and was under care at a church to be ordained when his father suddenly passed. He wanted to honor him, but because his family had stopped practicing traditional rites long ago, didn’t know how to, and left ministry, having grown resentful of the ways in which the church prohibited indigenous practices in Korea. Wanting to relearn the practices of his spiritual heritage, he sought out a mudang to mentor him in musok, and was surprised to learn that he came from a lineage of not only ministers, but mudangs as well. He doesn’t know of other trans men who are mudang, and isn’t sure if there’s a significance to his gender and his spirituality, but he feels that there must be one, as coming into the musok tradition has felt like a second homecoming into the queer Korean American community.

Vanilla Honey (she/they) is a queer architect and community organizer based in New York. Growing up on Long Island, Honey was never taught Korean by their mother, but they connected with their family and other Koreans through humor and playfulness. Being biracial, Honey often felt out of place in certain spaces, but discovering their queer identity brought a familiar fluidity between their experiences with race and gender.

Queerness has been, and continues to be, a bridge connecting them to the larger Korean American community. Partnering with friends and other queer Koreans, they helped bring KQTx(@kqtxnetwork @kqtxnyc)—a national grassroots network aimed at uplifting Queer and Trans people of Korean descent—to New York City. Queer joy, for Honey, is a mix of warmth, smiles, and a sense of safety surrounded by loved ones. They remind us: “You’re not alone. Support is out there; you don’t have to rely on yourself.”

Emmett Yoon (he/him) is a trans rights activist based in Houston, serving as the Executive Director of the Transgender Education Network of Texas (TENT). Born in South Korea and adopted by a white family in the Midwest, Emmett often felt out of place and confused as a transracial adoptee. His mother reminded him that both he and the world were more expansive than he realized, instilling in him a strong sense of social responsibility and community through volunteering. As an adult living in San Antonio, Emmett noticed the lack of support and the targeted attacks toward the trans community. This compelled him to take action and start volunteering, eventually leading him to become the Executive Director of TENT in 2017. Faced with the absence of trans infrastructure in Texas and drawing on his unique experiences, Emmett continues to expand trans-focused educational policy, legislation, and community resources. It’s an enormous task, but he remains grounded by the family he has built and his belief in the inherent goodness of humanity. Emmett hopes that by creating inclusive spaces, the trans community can find their own strength to protect their joy and for the greater community to see each other in fullness to work collectively for a better future.