Nostalgia: An Interview with Eunsoo Jeong

My work is about wanting to find a connection to culture, society, and country. As an individual, what connects one to the society, to be part of a group, is a moment that is undeniably shared upon members of that society. But what happens to those individuals that live in the society without those shared experiences? In my case- it was 9/11 in the United States and the 2002 World Cup in South-Korea.

When the World Trade Center was hit I was in South-Korea watching American cartoon reruns with my brother after school. We were suddenly interrupted by a bold caption that read “9/11 USA TERROR ATTACK 긴급속보 미국대폭발 테러사건”. We were both dumbfounded. We could not understand what it meant and how it would affect us, I mean–– we were so young and it was happening in another country far away.

Interestingly, my immigration story to the United States started three months later.

9/11 seemed to bond Americans through their loss and grief. It also seemed to push Americans’ collective need for “National Security,” which strengthened policies that perpetuated anti-immigrant sentiment and saw an increase in hate crimes. Americans were hurt, vulnerable, but united. Because I was not present in the USA at the time of 9/11, I still couldn’t connect no matter how hard I tried. And I still cannot.

Shortly after I left South-Korea, the country experienced arguably the most bonding event in its history, the 2002 World Cup. It was the very first year that South-Korea (or any Asian country) made it all the way up to the semi-finals. If you were to google South-Korea 2002 World Cup, you would be amazed by how many Koreans wore red shirts in unison populating every part of the city. They were ecstatic over a victory that had never been shared, winning 4th place in the World Cup. And again, because I was not in South-Korea at the time of the 2002 World Cup, I could not connect when Koreans pridefully referred to their historic moment.

These two events define the American and Korean experiences today. I am not a part of either because I was not there for them. Regardless of what my nationality is, what my citizenship shows, what my immigration status reads, I have been trying to figure out what makes me who I am, and my work focuses on that question. Using my alter-ego character, Koreangry, I explore my never-ending hope and desire (and maybe a bit of resentment at times...) to be part of shared experiences, both Korean and American. I build props and make sets to create scenarios, and have conversations in comic form.

This year marks my 18th year living in the United States. My newest zine focuses on my journey visiting my home country for the first time 2 years ago. Unexpectedly, it was a painful and confusing time. I felt estranged from my culture and home country. I was sad because I didn’t have the connection with Korea that I hoped to have. I was nostalgic for the time I had missed. This zine reflects on my longing for those shared experiences, realizing that I did not have them, and coming to terms with that.

Nostalgia comes from the Greek root “Nostos-”, returning home, and “-algos”, pain. Today, people use the word nostalgia to reminisce on fond memories of home, something that recalls endearing moments in the past. Americans will have the nostalgia for a time before 9/11. Koreans will have a nostalgia for the 2002 World Cup. My works are my way of longing for memories that I didn’t have, yearning for that missed nostalgia.

IG: @koreangry | @madeinkorea1988

Eunsoo Jeong photographed by Christopher Lawrence Baird for Curious Magazine Issue No.4 “Saudade”

Purchase Issue No.4 here.