Telephone. Remember the game that we played as kids? One person whispers a message in the ear of the next person, who whispers it to the next, and so on. By the end of the line the message is completely different from the original statement. This would be a very good way to describe my efforts to communicate with my in-laws. Originally from Korea, my husband’s family has been in the United States for more than thirty years. Their grasp of the English language is somewhat limited, and conversations among us often resemble the Telephone game. It has taken me years to realize that I need to listen not with my ears, but with my head and my heart.
Even without a language barrier, communication between two people in a committed relationship is difficult enough. In my situation, no language barrier exists between my husband and me. My husband, Tae, has been in America since his fifth birthday and he speaks better English than he does his native language. Communicating effectively with my in-laws, however, has been a challenge for me. I realized from the very beginning that many challenges lay ahead with Tae's parents, and I often took their negative reaction to me very personally.
During the first few years of our dating experience, I was not allowed in the home where Tae lived with his parents. They would hang up when I called or grudgingly hand the phone to Tae at his insistence. Having been raised in a non-prejudiced home, I was largely unfamiliar with the concept of judging other people by their race or culture alone. I was convinced that if I tried hard enough, they would suddenly realize the error of their ways and welcome me wholeheartedly into the fold. After all, I personified all things that they deem important: I'm college-educated, I come from a "respectable" and close-knit family, and I am successful in my career. Tae repeatedly explained to me that the problem was not with "me, personally"…the problem was because I am not Korean. For me this was excruciating…what my head understood perfectly, my heart refused to grasp.
Fast-forward to the present, sixteen years later. After dating for seven of those years and with the blessing of both sets of parents, Tae and I finally got married. I now understand that it truly wasn't "me, personally." My in-laws' negativity toward me was driven by a cultural expectation that has existed since the day Tae was born. In Korea, a dowry system that has lasted thousands of years is still in place. Referred to as the "Three Keys," this dowry is steeped in tradition and focuses upon money and material possessions. Tae's parents worked diligently to put Tae through college in the United States, therefore qualifying him to marry a Korean woman with "Three Keys": a key to an estate, a key to a safe-deposit box and a key to a luxury car. As a fourth-generation American citizen and a woman who reaps the benefits of the women's movement, the concept of a dowry seemed ludicrous to me. Frustrated, I gazed down at the keys in my hand. I, too, had worked very hard to acquire and develop my keys: the key to my condo, the key to my Honda, and the key to my heart. Furthermore, I would willingly share them with Tae as his partner and wife. It angered me that I had the "wrong" keys and could do absolutely nothing to change the situation. Tae was the only one who could begin the process of change. It evolved slowly, but eventually it did evolve.
After enduring accusations of bringing shame to the family and threats of being disowned, Tae finally realized that this problem went far deeper than we knew. Not only were Tae's parents concerned with his future wealth and well being, they were concerned with their own. Those "Three Keys" were their future…their entire retirement savings plan. Never had they imagined that Tae would grow up and choose to marry someone without the right "Keys."
After many long and agonizing conversations, Tae convinced his parents that they would never be left alone and broke as their retirement years draw near. After getting to know me, they relaxed their concerns that the Korean language and culture would be overlooked in our home. We still wonder what the future has in store for us as we try to provide for our families. My approach is to invest wisely and to save as much money as we can for the years ahead. Meanwhile, I enjoy the bittersweet victory of the present every time my mother-in-law introduces me as her "beautiful daughter." We've come full-circle since the days in which our conversations resembled child's play; I listen carefully with my head and my heart in order to understand the correct message. In return, they sincerely try to communicate with me and accept me for who I am. Maybe I have the right "Three Keys" after all.
