I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand…

I love chats with my father. There are stories, old memories he dusts off and shares, that make me think. Today he told me about a teacher at his high school. It was a prestigious school. Korea’s first “government” school founded by the Royal Court. His Korean teacher was part of an underground movement that fought to keep Korean alive during the Japanese occupation. Unfortunately he was discovered and tortured. They put bamboo shards under his nails but still he didn’t give up his friends. He told his story in class one day to impress upon my father and his classmates the importance of learning Korean. That it was a language people suffered and died for. He showed him his hands to prove his story. Not one of his fingers had nails on them. I felt so sorry after I heard that story. Sorry I couldn’t pass on Korean to my son. It’s the language of hard won survival and resistance. I didn’t understand when we were raising him. I was too busy trying to keep him alive. For Debbie’s Six Word…