The Lone Ranger

Darkness
There is a basement of an apartment not suitable for living conditions, but there a family lives. A family of four finds shelter in this half underground edifice, barely with a source of light. They live in darkness. They eat in darkness. They sleep in darkness. Their lives are filled with darkness. This is what they know.

Lost in Translation
Day in, day out. Twelve-hour days, sometimes more. Minimum wage. Barely making ends meet, a father and mother work diligently in constant struggle with the language barrier. They are lost in translation, leading them to live secluded lives from their neighbors. Their children grow up assimilated to the American culture, gradually losing hints of their traditional ways and cultural identity. Only their names and faces reveal their ethnicity. Years of pressing shirts became a living as they sought after the American Dream, leaving the darkness. Backs and legs aching, fingers and hands shaking, they successfully send their two children to college. Finally, a brief second sigh of relief. As sweat and tears continuously fall from their faces, a taste of the American Dream is given.

The Lone Ranger
A student, barely a man, finds himself lost in darkness. He is perpetually at war within himself, a battle that eventually overtakes his whole being. Seeking for acceptance, a connection with somebody, anybody, has led to his identity struggle. Depression sinks in and all is hopeless in his eyes. Writing has become his only outlet to express his turmoil, anguish, feelings and thoughts, which becomes misunderstood and further deepens his confusion into hate. On April 16, 2007, he loses all hope and the world before him engulfs him. He falls prey to the corruption we all live and breathe while taking lives with him to end his misery. On that day, he left a wound to U.S. history.

In regards of the atrocity this past Monday at VA Tech, I felt compelled to write something. Korean Americans and Koreans worldwide hang their head in shame as they have gotten word this massacre was done by Seung-Hui Cho, a Korean. For Koreans, it's a disgrace. Koreans are all about image and saving 'face,' but this is far beyond race, immigration and foreign policies.

This is about a deeply conflicted individual -- where right became left, wrong became right, bad became good --who has lost all hope in this world that he felt so motivated to take lives, including his own. I'm not rationalizing his horrific behavior, but I am saying that we aren't as innocent as we presume to be. Hear me out for a second.

His desperate cries were communicated in his writing but were ignored. Yes, his behavior was scary, intimidating, and straight up creepy, but where were we throughout this time? Am I no better? Did we alleviate or add to his ending psychotic behavior? I firmly believe that change needs to start within our own selves so that God may use us to transform the lives around us. Am I not a walking testimony? I always wonder what instigates a person to end his or her life to believe that there is absolutely nothing to live for. I know there must be many people out there like this (maybe not as severe) who need much love and prayer. Let me reiterate, this doesn't justify their actions but I do hope we start to look beyond that to find some humanity.

Many thoughts, prayers and condolences go to the families of the victims lost, those affected and Cho's family. Through God's grace, there is hope. He is an unfailing and faithful God.