This is My Fight, Too
Kinam Sohn with son, Matt Kelley
About seven years ago my son told me that he was gay. If I just met him on the street I would never know that he was gay, so when he was young and talked about having a farm with a big family, I always assumed that he meant with a wife and their biological children. Of course, this changed after he came out to me.
After learning that my son was homosexual, for a long time I went through a period of significant sadness. My sadness, however, was less about the fact that he was gay, than because I knew that as a gay man he had to face a lot of bigotry and prejudice in his day-to-day life. Even though we live in the United States and people are supposed to be more open-minded, the world is a bigoted place and I was scared for him. I feared that my son, like Matthew Shepherd, might get attacked or even killed.
Growing up in South Korea shortly after the war, I almost never heard people talking about homosexuality. But on those occasions that my friends talked about gay and lesbian people, it was always in a negative way. For example, several years ago my girlfriends and I went on a skiing trip. At the time, I didn’t know that my own son was homosexual, but I remember being disappointed by how my friends talked about gay men as if they were non-humans. I was uncomfortable with their comments and told them that everyone deserves to be treated decently.
It’s awkward when I hear people making derogatory comments about LGBT people. I used to wonder if I should tell them that my son is gay. Then again, I certainly don’t go around saying, “My daughter is a heterosexual!” But I talked with my son about it. He is comfortable with his sexual identity and I think being an open and proud parent of a gay man can help make a positive contribution to LGBT issues. It’s important for people to know that they know someone who is lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender.
Sometimes, well-meaning friends also create uncomfortable situations. One of my friends was always trying to find a nice woman for my son to date. After several years of her kind but misguided efforts, I finally told her that he’s gay. She and her husband are very Christian and traditional, but I think the situation is okay. With her and all of my friends, my hope is that when they think or talk about LGBT people, they will think about my son instead of stereotypes. I think there’s something very powerful about them knowing that their best girlfriend’s son is gay, and guess what? He’s a great guy!
This kind of open communication can be difficult, especially in the Korean American community. I think LGBT people face extraordinary bigotry in our community. I have heard about religious groups that try to “convert” gay people to become heterosexuals. It breaks my heart. They don’t understand that homosexuality is a natural and normal condition. Furthermore, I don’t understand how they can call themselves Christians but show so much hate.
As Korean parents, our children are our lives! We have to stand up for our gay and lesbian children. We cannot be a part of a church or temple that condemns our sons and daughters just because they are homosexuals. We cannot hide or be ashamed or afraid of who they are. Although we never imagined having a gay child, it’s what has been given to us. And while we struggle with this issue, we need to think about the incredible obstacles our children deal with everyday.
Of course we don’t want our children to have difficult lives. The sooner we work through our confusion, hurt, or denial, the sooner we can fight for our kids so they can fight for themselves! Our community must start somewhere. If you and I start fighting, one becomes two, two becomes ten and soon there are hundreds and thousands. This is how we will develop our community’s strength.
When my son came out to me, I was sad that I wouldn’t have grandchildren. But now, I just want to see him find someone who will be his best friend and partner. When he finds that man, I hope they can be married. Marriage is not a special right; it’s a fundamental right that everyone deserves. That’s why I’ve joined organizations like the Human Rights Campaign and why I have donated money to LGBT organizations. One day, if he finds this special person, then he can adopt children. Then, his childhood fantasy of living on a farm with lots of children can come true.
I am a fighter. Anyone in our generation who grew up poor after the Korean War had to be! I am very proud of my son because he is also a fighter— fighting for the underdog, so they, too, can have a voice and live a happy life. Of course it’s difficult, that’s what you have to do. And since I also think of myself as an underdog, this is my fight, too.
Matt Kelley is an award-winning writer and consultant, and principal of Pantagraf, a communications and destination marketing company. He is also producing EVEN THE RIVERS, a documentary film about the growing number of multi-ethnic youth in South Korea’s schools. Matt, his partner and Jindo dog live in Seoul and southern Oregon.
Kinam Sohn, CCIM CPA, is president and designated broker of the Sohn Real Estate Group. Born in Daegu, she has called the U.S. Pacific Northwest home for over 30 years. A proud mother and grandmother, she has long championed Korean American, mixed heritage, arts and LGBT organizations in the Greater Seattle area. This fall, she is organizing the first annual Northwest Kimchi Fest.
Matt Kelley is the son of Kinam Sohn. Their stories are published together on KoreanAmericanStory.org
