Train Naps

All I wanted to do was nap.

Hey everyone, I'm going to be very candid here, and let you know this may be a triggering piece. If the topic of sexual harassment/assault and/or non-consensual makes you uncomfortable, than this post is not for you.

That being said...I want to follow up with, "I'm okay". I went back and forth on whether I should post this, but then I remembered the reasons I started this blog. And one of those reasons was honesty.

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I had a late night on Friday. I had a fabulous dinner at a bulgogi "tent" with a friend in Daegu, followed by a cute cafe. As in, I'm pretty sure I found my favorite cafe in Daegu. It gave me a wholesome feeling and that's what mattered most.

This week had not been kind to me. :(

So, from cafe to hostel, I wasn't asleep until just before midnight. When I went to sleep, I was excited for Saturday. I was going to catch a train to Seoul, do some shopping, German restaurant (!), and see some friends for a five hour meeting (more excited for the friends than the five hour meeting). My Saturday was planned with the precision of a daughter raised by a German mother.

The second I sat on my train at 4:30am, I was ready to nap the whole ride. Seeing as I barely had three hours of sleep.

Clearly,  a nap sounds lovely, doesn't it?

And yet...someone had to ruin it.

Sitting in my window seat, with my large winter coat covering me, listening to my audiobook, eyes closed. I was relaxed and enjoying myself. It was so peaceful that I was about to turn off my audiobook and fall asleep.

I did not give it a second thought. My last few train rides were very chill and relaxed.

I registered that someone had sat down next to me, but that happens. You don't get to pick your seats, the system does. I shifted over a little since I figured the person was a little bigger than me, what with our arms and legs touching.

So, I shift.

But then I felt an arm resting on my side, and a leg pressing against my own...again.

So, I shift over...again.

Then I felt it all over...again.

Which is when I realized, this person is purposely being overly touchy. They're leaning on me, pressing against me, touching me...on purpose.

I hated it. I did not want it. I wanted to shove them away from me. Off of me. But I couldn't find it in me, and that made my frustration build.

In a single moment, this person turned me into an object. An object that they thought they had the right to touch. To invade.

I was uncomfortable...angry...disappointed...scared.

I was floundering about, trying to find a way to get out of the situation I found myself in. What do you do in a situation like this? Do I shout? Do I push him away? And if I do, what then? What will happen next? Will I be able to defend myself, or will he say its just the talk of a delusional foreigner trying to ruin his reputation? And with my limited Korean, will I properly be able to defend myself?

All these thoughts kept flashing through my head along with just how confident this person was going to be in a public space.

It was a few short minutes, but for me...it felt hours long. I felt trapped in my window seat, with this silencing invader hovering around me, taking away my voice. A voice I fought to have. Continue to fight to have. And yet...at that moment, I couldn't have a voice. It was robbed from me.

I became the object this person thought I was.

At some point, I found something inside of me. Perhaps it was a reminder of who I am or a hidden strength that has belied my actions for years that couldn't stay silent. I don't know what it was, but I'm so thankful for it. Because at that moment, I finally sat up and looked my attacker in the eye.

At this point, he'd already begun touching my thigh with his own hand, still pushed fully against my side.

And just like that, everything changed.

His leg was no longer pressed against mine. His fingers were no longer touching my thigh. His arm was no longer resting on me as if I was the arm rest. An object.

This whole experience was a reminder that while Korea has given me a safer sense of security than the states, there is still dangers. Dangers that can come at you when you're sleeping. Dangers that can take your voice that you continue to fight for.

This was not my first assault, but it was my first one in Korea. And while I hoped that it would never happen, it has. And I know it won't be the last time. My own autonomy is constantly in question, simply because I'm a woman. I'm not even factoring in all my other identities that take my autonomy further away from me.

Sometimes, life isn't easy and right now, I'm struggling with one of those moments. While I could put all my energy into wishing it never happened, it did.

It happened.

#SaveOurToya

If you or someone you know is ever put in a situation that is no bueno, and you need to talk to someone, please check out the information below. Everyone has different ways with coping and moving past a situation, so this is by no means me telling you what to do. I only want you to have all the resources possible.

Migrant Women's Hotline (365 days/years, English and 7 other languages): 02-1577-1366 or outside Seoul, local area code + 1577-1366.

Seoul Call Center: 120 (02-1220 cell phone/outside Seoul) then press '9' for foreign languages

And evidently 112 and 119 sometimes have English options depending on region and shift but they both automatically trace your phone when you do call.

Asia Emergency Association: 790-7561
Which is a bit more roundabout but might be easier if you need a guaranteed English speaker

Permanency

Trigger warning: gun violence at school

Despite my trigger warning, I want it to be said, there was no actual gun violence at my school. No shooting. No injuries. The students and teachers are all okay.

Me?

...not so much.

Y'all, I don't know why this week has been so shitastic, but it's been crazy hard this week. From bad-mood inducing news from my host parents to being bad-touched on a train to a small panic attack during third period on a Thursday.

I would like nothing more than to tell you about a good day, a good moment, or a happy feeling, but frankly...this week has been battling me every step of the way.

As many of you know, I'm half-American. I was raised and educated in the USA, thus my perspective has a multitude of American influences on them.

And today....today, I learned a valuable lesson that I never gave much focus to before.

When walking to my second class today, I noticed that my kids were a little bit more rowdy than usual. It's been a wild week for them to, but in a happier way thankfully, so I left it at that. I'm glad they were having a good week, even if it meant I had to deal with crazy students. At least they were being a good kind of crazy. I was about to walk into the 5th grade classroom, when I noticed something black in the front of the classroom.

I'm so thankful for my observation skills.

So fucking thankful.

Because what I saw was what looked like a fake semiautomatic gun.

I want it also to be said, I was already aware that Korea has a very strict gun policy.

And it was these two things that kept me from being too triggered at the situation I was about to find myself.

When one of my sweetest kids held the gun up, pointed it directly at my chest, and told me I was under arrest, it took a lot for me to not let my fear show. I don't know if my students noticed that for a second, I felt the color drain from my face. I felt my heart pick up speed. I felt my legs about to give out. I felt my lungs about to spaz out.

And this was me reacting to what I knew was a fake gun.

These children do not know what it's like to be black in America. They don't know what it's like to hear about shootings.

They just don't know.

Which was what helped me keep it together.

I kept telling myself over and over, 'they don't know'  as I tried to teach them about phone call etiquette and not looking at the spot where the "gun" was placed. It was probably one of the hardest classes I had to push through thus far.

I know that moments like these are great moments to educate someone. And while I would've loved for them to know and realize what their actions can produce in someone, what I just went through, I was also aware that my head-space wasn't in the right place for it.

How can I tell my precious students that the police scare me? That guns scare me? That people who look like me struggle simply because of our skin color? That school shootings are a fact of life and not a game, back home?

How can I talk about a topic that gives me a panic attack?

Look, I know I've been complaining about the cold (who knew I'd miss central heating), but if it's one thing I'm thankful for during this cold time its the snow. Looking outside the windows at the gently falling snow has been my one of my main solaces during this time of emotional upheaval.

It allows me to focus my thoughts and calm my overworked heart.

I mentioned in my last post about gun violence (The Aftereffects), that I'm working through my feelings. I figured out just what those feelings are; after today's reaction, it was pretty easy to figure out.

I'm afraid of guns.

I'm afraid of how permanent they are. I mean...with a single twitch, I can lose someone dear to me, my loved ones could lose me. (Good lord that sounds selfishly Toya-centered!) So many beautiful souls have been lost to us already, and as it stands, there's no stopping the shooting back home. As of today, there have been roughly 329 shootings in 2018.

We always think...'that wouldn't happen to me', or 'that doesn't happen around here', but guys. You never really know.

#SaveOurToya

The Aftereffects

Trigger Warning: mass shootings, feelings being validated, emotional rambling on triggering topic
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Nose clogging.

Throat throbbing.

Eyes watering.

Head aching.

And yet, its the latest news about a mass shooting in a California bar that is making it hard for me to breath. Guys, I don't know where this naive thought came from, but for whatever reason, I thought that once I came to Korea, I'd stop hearing about shootings.

No more heart stopping news.

No more breath quickening to painful levels.

No more.

Joke's on me, I guess.

I'm recovering from a fever right now, not having the most comfortable of week, and it pales in comparison to how I feel.

I am well aware that the topic of mass shootings is a sensitive topic for me. The fact that a fellow Fulbrighter had asked how to broach the topic of mass shootings in America for their Korean students had me tensing, sweating, and breath quickening. It was hint enough that this was a topic that triggered me.

And here's what I recognize.

This is something I need to work through, but I'm not ready to talk nor do I know where to begin. Do I start with the school drills I learned in school for whenever there was a shooter on campus? Or do I start with the attempted mass shooting at my university during my undergrad days? Or the false alarm during grad school? What about Pulse? Parkland?

I keep having to stop typing. My fingers keep stalling.

During the recovery in Orlando after Pulse, I heard from various sources that it's okay to feel what you feel. That your feelings are valid.

That my feelings are valid.

But...maybe its because I'm not surrounded by the community that knew what it was like, or because I've been lulled into a bubble of safety since moving here, but its been getting harder to stay steady whenever I hear about a shooting.

Of all the things to have to prepare myself for with my move, finding support for moments like these was not something I thought I had to do.

I'm working through these emotions, I am.

But it's not easy....hell, writing this post was not easy. I mentioned that I had to stop typing many times. My fingers were literally tensing and causing me to hit the wrong keys. It doesn't help that my thoughts are all over the place and stringing one thought together was so hard.

Partly because of the fever, but mostly because of this topic.

This post was/is more for me than it was for you, I admit. An attempt at putting it all down. Granted, I'm doing better now than I did when I first started this post.

If only it were that easy to move past this.

#SaveOurToya