Tag: Queer Joy

Sammy Kim (they/them) is a multifaceted individual: a queer artist, writer, healer, sex worker, community organizer, caregiver, and friend. From a young age, Sammy took on a caregiving role when their mother was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, moving in with relatives as her condition progressed. Seeing their mother struggle with her health, Sammy naturally came into a role of caregiving, grounding themselves in gratitude while extending empathy towards their family. By their pre-teen years, Sammy knew they were queer but felt compelled to hide it due to their Christian upbringing, even trying to “ungay” themselves to avoid eternal damnation. Operating out of fear, Sammy didn’t come out to their parents until their mother approached them about it, by which time they had been living openly for three years. Although their mother struggled to accept this part of Sammy, she affirmed her love, signaling a need for more time to understand.

Through sex work, what began as a caregiving role to provide for men seeking to feel wanted eventually evolved into a way for Sammy to heal from their early childhood trauma of sexual abuse. Their work became a way for them to deeply question their relationship to the sexualization tied to their identities. As Sammy continues to unravel the many intersections of their experiences, they choose with intention to feel alive in the present, living in the joy that stems from simply being themselves without distraction.

Andrea Hong Marra (she/her), often known as Andy, is a trans activist and executive director of the Transgender Legal Defense and Education Fund (TLDEF). From an early age, she knew who she was as a Korean American and person of color. Adopted into a white family and growing up in a diverse neighborhood, she was raised to be in touch with her Korean heritage. However, there were fewer resources available about being transgender, leading to a journey of helping her parents understand and accept her queer identity.

With a commitment to service and leadership instilled by her parents, Andy began volunteering at LGBTQ organizations in her hometown. She realized that a life of service and advocacy was her calling, a path she’s dedicated herself to for the past couple of decades. Andy reminds us that activists often prioritize their work over themselves, but the spaces they create are for them too. She encourages us to leave behind our stories so that those who come after know they are not alone, asserting that leaving evidence of our existence is a powerful act of defiance.

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.

Sulkiro Song (she/they) is a queer, asexual, and aromantic pastor based in Virginia. Born in Seoul, Korea, to a family of ministers, their path seemed clear: carry on the family line and become a pastor. However, at age five, their grandfather declared, “women cannot be pastors!”—their first encounter with gender discrimination in ministry. Struggling to identify with the word “queer” and navigating their sexuality, Sulkiro felt misunderstood and out of place. They knew they were asexual since middle school but were often teased by peers. It wasn’t until much later, during a pride march, that they encountered the ace flag and finally felt like they belonged.

Despite the initial discouragement, Sulkiro attended seminary, not just to study religion academically, but also to help themselves through deep religious trauma—a process they describe as “ridiculously expensive therapy.” Although they didn’t take courses in preaching or pastoral care, they felt comfortable sharing what they were learning in seminary with their congregation. Today, serving as the pastor of HAN UMC, Sulkiro’s sermons encompass queer, feminist, and anti-imperialist themes, reflecting their commitment to inclusivity and justice.

Queer and trans stories often go unheard within the Korean American community. By creating space and sharing these narratives, we can build bridges, learn from one another, and celebrate the diversity within our ever-evolving community. Last year, our team had the honor of interviewing nine incredible LGBTQIA+ Korean Americans across generations. In the coming weeks, we are excited to share a special edition of the Legacy Project: “Legacy Project: Queer Joy,” where we explore what queer joy means to them and their journey to finding it. A big thank you to our interviewees for being so open and allowing us to share your stories with our community and beyond 🩷

Funding for this project was made possible by Korean American Community Foundation @kacfny with support from the Reva and David Logan Foundation @revaanddavidloganfoundation