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| Choi Moon-ja / Courtesy of Edward Haschke |
Korean American marriage migrant says racial discrimination and bullying made her strong
By Kang Hyun-kyung
A young woman wailed, as a Seattle-bound ferry departed from the port of Busan and slid into waters on a long voyage in 1954, a year after the bloody Korean War had ended.
The woman was Choi Moon-ja, a Korean bride who had just married a Black American soldier who was stationed in Busan during the war. Choi said she was gripped by insurmountable sadness and belated regret for her decision to leave her mother behind in the southern port city.
She said she was far from being a filial daughter. Her mother vehemently opposed her daughter's marriage to the American solider, Benjamin Garris, pleading with her to think again. But her pleas couldn't stop her daughter, who had fallen in love with him.
Back in the 1950s, Korea was much more homogeneous than it is today, and it was unthinkable for a Korean woman to date a foreigner, especially a Black person. Elizabeth Kim's 2000 memoir, "Ten Thousand Sorrows," vividly recounts the tragic death of her mother and how she became a victim of prejudice by her relatives, just because she had a biracial baby as a result of her love with a Black American soldier.
Against the backdrop of predominant racial bias, Choi was forced to hide her relationship with the Black American soldier, even to her mother.
In addition to her parent's disapproval, there was another obstacle standing in the way of their relationship. According to Choi, the U.S. military conducted a thorough background check to make sure she was not a communist. They spied on her for a long time before she was finally given permission to marry Garris and go to the United States.
Choi, now 90, is part of the first generation of "GI brides," women who dated and married U.S. soldiers who were stationed in Korea after the country was liberated from Japanese colonial rule at the end of World War II.
It was after Choi boarded the Seattle-bound ferry that she began to ruefully look back at her decision to leave her poor mother behind and start a family in the United States. But it was too late. The ferry had already departed from the port of Busan and had cruised into the waters.
"I was going to cancel everything. I wanted to escape from the ship and go back to my mother," she said during a recent Zoom interview with The Korea Times. "On the ferry, I cried and tried to jump off the ship. An American lady who was near me said 'you're going to be okay.' But her kind gesture didn't help me a lot."
After a two-week voyage, Choi and her husband arrived in Seattle, Washington. From there, the newlywed couple took a train all the way to New York to their new home.
Trying times, however, continued even after Choi settled in New York. She was introduced to Black culture, which was very different from Korean culture. A language barrier also made it even more difficult for Choi to adjust to her new life.
Amid her continued struggles, she was devastated by the saddest news: her mother passed away a year after Choi came to the United States. Choi suffered the deep pain of loss and found herself wandering around in search of a place to cry.
Her six decades of life in the United States as a spouse of a U.S. military official were full of traumatic experiences: bullying, racial discrimination and deprived opportunities were part of her life.
In Norfolk, Virginia in the 1950s, she was asked to sit separately from her husband on a ferry. The ticket controller aboard the ferry told her she was not Black and did not have to sit in the back of the ship after seeing the Asian woman heading to the back of the ship with a Black man. The ticket controller told her she could sit in the front with the white passengers.
In parts of the United States in the 1950s, Black people had to sit at the back of all public transportation, whereas white and other races could sit at the front.
Choi rejected the ticket controller's advice, insisting she would sit with her husband at the back of the ferry.
Such a hostile atmosphere, which was predominant particularly in the 1950s and 1960s, didn't discourage her from continuing to fight for a better future for her three children ―Deborah, Marcia and Benjamin. Choi said she felt strong especially after she had her first child, Deborah.
Compared to other GI brides, Choi said she was fortunate. "My husband was nice to me. He was kind and thoughtful enough to encourage me to learn," she said. Her husband died of lung cancer in 1982.
According to Choi, some GI brides were exposed to various abuses and some were even treated like housemaids.
Choi's second daughter, Marcia, said her mother is a strong woman who overcame discrimination and bullying.
"Having a tiger mom who taught me to stand up for myself and express myself made me the outgoing person I am today," Marcia said. "Her experiences of bullying and racial tension made her the strong and impenetrable woman she is this day…. It was true love that fueled her courage to date not only a soldier, but a Black one, at that time."
GI brides vs. picture brides
GI brides mark the second wave of Korean marriage migration to the United States.
"Picture brides" were the pioneer marriage migrants to the United States. From 1910 to 1924, an estimated 600 to 1,000 Korean women went to Hawaii to marry Korean sugarcane laborers. These women were called picture brides, because they agreed to marry the laborers after they only saw photos of them. With the help of matchmakers, the sugarcane laborers on the U.S. island and the women in Korea exchanged their photos, agreeing to tie the knot upon the brides' arrival.
The picture brides have drawn belated attention in recent years, as their role behind Korea's independence from Japanese colonial rule became known to the public.
GI brides played a part in diversifying Korea's homogeneous demographics.
Marcia admired her mother for her courage to confront discriminatory practices, calling it her legacy. "My mother comes from the blood of pioneers, who truly captured the 'art' of immigrating," said Marcia. "She taught me everything I know and to this day those skills help me to lead, care, support and love all mankind no matter who they are. She taught me that I can learn from anyone and never to be afraid of voicing my opinion or ideas… I am so proud that she was a pioneer who married a Black man during those days that were so horrible for Black people. She made it easy for me not to see color but to see human beings."
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