EM magazine ::Vol. 02 + Issue Eleven

It's been Ten Years...

April 29, 1992 hit Los Angeles like a Jimi Hendrix jam session gone wrong.
Havoc wreaked the streets as verdict of four White police officers involved in the beating of Rodney King, were declared innocent to all counts of police brutality. Crowds began to mill around street corners as groupings of disgruntled and angry Angelinos began venting out their frustrations to passersby. Rodney King was by no means a significant victim of police abuse, he just so happened to be videotaped. Whether he had possession of drugs and was speeding over the limit was besides the point, the issue here was clear depiction of rage released from its rein.

I remember watching the news when all this was happening no more than twenty miles north from where I lived. It was almost surreal to see news footage of both Parent and Child actively participating in the looting of liquor stores, supermarkets, furniture outlets, and all other type of business properties you could think of. A friend of mine later quipped that he knew a neighbor of his who stole a 'Street Fighter II" arcade console during the Riots.

Funny Shit.

What wasn't funny was seeing the livelihood of countless business owners in the LA vicinity, particularly in Korea Town literally burn to the ground. The "LA Riots" as newscasters throughout the world relayed the term, was nothing more than chaos run amuck care courtesy of the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD). The LAPD allowed the looters to loot, shooters to shoot, and arsonists to...well arson.

It's well documented that the National Guard were ordered to only secure particular areas of upper privileged vicinities whereas businesses located in unfortunate locales were left to fend for themselves. News cameramen were quick to zoom in on red and white bandana headbands of Korean shop owners with rifle in hand. The Media seemed to eat up the fact that the LA Riots was more or less a culmination of released tension amongst racial barriers between suburban residing Korean merchant verse inner city Black clientele. Scapegoated as arbiters of inner city racial relations, Koreans were single-handedly paraded as people of inhumane acts. Of course it didn't help when the evening news showed Korean liquor store owners shooting down black girls for stealing orange juice.

But as yet with everything, there is a story to be told.

From the perspective of the working class Korean immigrant, the struggle is to establish security. From the the perspective of the inner city Black, the struggle lies deep wrenched in layers of socioeconomic issues that belie all provisions of government assistance. In a sense, both peoples sprout from the same cause. Both are people who have been marginalized by society as minority, the unwanted seed. What occurred on April 29, 1992 was not symbolic of particular race, rather it was an act of individual choice.

A couple of months ago, some folks in Korea Town gathered in Seoul International Park on Ardmore to commemorate the ten year passing of the LA Riots. Although the cause was strong, the turnout was not impressive. Complacency once again seems to rule over the Korean immigrant. Many of my friends were also a bit puzzled and frustrated at the lack of people who cared to join our peaceful march down the very roads of utter chaos during the riots. We walked in silence then marched in chants. A police escort directed us down memory lane as traffic was put on halt. I noticed Korean business owners from their balconies, cigarette in hand, cell phone to ear, nodding and waving at us. I would acknowledge their hellos but would wonder why they couldn't spare just thirty minutes of their time to join us.

The day was a hot one. With a vanguard of uniformed men and a huge spread of the American flag held on high by a phalanx of 100+ people, it felt a bit both tributary and an indirect f**k you.

I struggle with this everyday. They say America is a melting pot. I hate that term because it lumps everything together not allowing one to really understand his/her roots. Me? I'm Korean American unhyphenated. I'm not considered Korean in Korea nor am I considered American in America.

What happened on April 29, 1992 was something that should never have happened. Outburst of rage from all parties from government to the people does no good. We can not and should not allow our lives to be molded and construed into a subservient fashion. When something is wrong, we need to declare it and fix it. When someone is hurt, we need to stand up and assist him. When someone is crying, we need to lend a shoulder and let him lean on it. I believe in the goodness of humanity that it overrides all factors, whether it be religion, race, or creed.

Afternoon sun started to beat down on us as we made our way back from the march. A camera crew directed a few to hold steady and smile.

I look off into the distance as neon signs go alit to greet sunset.
Honks of cars can be heard as the flow of traffic resumes.
I give myself a smirk and laugh quietly.

Life of the Hard Knocks could not be sweeter...