Inspiration -- Kim Im-Soon

MOTHER NATURE: LESSONS FROM KIM IM SOON
by Bo-Mi Lee
Ewha Womans University, Seoul

Once, I was ashamed to be a feminist. "You are one of them?" a male friend commented incredulously when I raised my hand in class one day after a teacher asked if anyone identified with being a feminist. Once, I was afraid to be a feminist. In Korea, as in the rest of the world, feminism still carries a negative connotation. If math students are stereotyped as bespectacled geeks and philosophy students as hazy-eyed idealists, feminist students are assumed to be cross- dressing, man-hating lesbians who stubbornly resist their feminine duties of nurture, acceptance and inferiority. Today, I learned a powerful lesson in feminism from a woman who fit none of these stereotypes.

Kim Im Soon's story is not one about a woman intruding into a man's world. It is not about conspicuous greatness or aggressive strength. It is a story about a volunteer worker who undertook the task of raising seven abandoned infants as her own in a self-made mud hut. It is a story about a mother who was never too proud to beg assistance for her children. It is a story about a Christian whose unfailing devotion and generosity inspired Korea's most prominent charity foundation for disabled children, Ai Gwang Won. It is a story about a feminist who was not afraid to work in the darker shadows for women, orphans and the handicapped. It is a story about a woman.

Kim was born at a time when her gender worked as a handicap. Higher education for women was socially taboo and in times of war and struggle, a women's role remained limited and passive. However, Kim recognized early on that her strength lay in her handicap and she grasped her femininity as a weapon instead of a crutch.

Growing up during the age of Japanese occupation of Korea, Kim was inflamed with the patriotic desire to serve her country. Instead of joining a radical revolutionary group however, Kim sought a more subtle method that would better enable her, a woman, to contribute to her country. She studied home economics and became a teacher. This allowed her to reach people at a more personal level. In her aspiration to become a community leader and revolutionary, Kim clung harder to her feminine qualities. She sewed, cooked, embroidered and never balked from her role as an obedient daughter-in-law even when her husband took up life with another woman.

It was because of this strong femininity (for lack of a better word) that Mr. Kim Won Kyu, head of the Koje branch of the Social Welfare Department, assigned her the care of seven orphaned infants found in a rudimentary refugee hut. Her capability as a nurse, nurturer and mother empowered her to ameliorate situations in a section of community that desperately needed a female hand. Now, 60 years after the founding of the first orphanage building of Ai Kwang Won, the community is a flourishing seventeen building complex. The institution has since been transformed into a home exclusively for disabled children called the Dandelion House; the spurned minority receives little welcome anywhere else except for Kim's custom-made mansion.

If I ever had any doubts about how noble the job of a mother is, Kim's story has purged me of them. Nowadays, it is considered to be degrading for educated young women to settle down as housewives. We are expected to pursue brilliant careers, equal to any man's, and become something nobler than a trivial wife and mother. We seldom realize that this, too, is a form of discrimination. I look at the calluses on my mother's hand as she systematically wipes the dishes and wraps up the leftovers from dinner. Her life is dull, filled with repetitive routines and petty challenges. Then, I look in the mirror and I see her eyes and her confidence. I find myself speaking with the strength of her voice. Trifling and insignificant, my mother's contribution to the world is her daughter, me. Perhaps this does not reap the financial or intellectual rewards equal to those of a doctor or a teacher, but the impact of a mother's love dulls all else in comparison. Kim has touched more lives and made more difference this way than if she had chosen any other road.

Feminism is a social stance that many people, even its supporters, often misunderstand. Kim's exemple rebukes the common belief that feminism is based on opposition between men and women, authority and nurture, superiority and inferiority. Feminists know that they are not the counterparts of men, but are a separate entity and equally valuable. Likewise, Kim did not achieve greatness by cutting off her hair, having lesbian relationships and castrating men. Instead, she embraced her womanhood. Being a feminist means more than conforming with, or even overturning our patriarchal society. History has given advantage to men, but as Kim demonstrates, there is room for women and you do not have to discard your femininity to join in.

I wish I could end this paper by saying that now, I am proud to be a feminist. But the truth is, I am not. Today, I am only reluctantly a feminist. The world is such where I must still write this paper under the title: "Greatness of Spirit of Asian Women Leaders" when Kim Im Soon represents a greatness that not only encompasses, but also transcends ethnicity and gender. Kim's femininity was just a tool for something far more universal: her humanity. It is debasing to have it categorized in the marginal. Yet, just because one feels degraded by having to use a wheelchair does not mean you do not need it. In an ideal world, Kim's handicapped children would be embraced by society. In an ideal world, mainstream ideology would not discriminate against women. In a world far from ideal, feminism is as necessary as Kim's Ai Kwang Won.

A mother's legacy is in the success of her children. Kim's greatness of spirit lives on in her own accomplishments, but also extends to those whose lives she has inspired and touched. I am proud to say I am one of them.

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