Koreans thrive everywhere they go
and it isn’t a surprise,
They’re up before sunrise
My mother’s fingers are calloused
Korean mothers, you see,
love to fuss;
so she continues to sew,
and sew,
the most unnoticeable flaws in my father’s coat

Koreans thrive everywhere they go
And with success comes envy
from those who sing about American pie,
dead music and dried up levies
You laugh at my mother's accent because
you think she's as delicate as she is petite
and wouldn't dare to speak
but one of my mother’s greatest feats
is that she can understand every word her children say
She does not have to ask for us to repeat

She understands the first time
whenever you laugh and whisper
whenever you come over to our house and wonder,
“Why do Asian people dry their dishes in the dishwasher?”

Koreans thrive everywhere they go
It’s something my father tells me to never forget
as he points to Do won Chang and Margaret Cho
Crossing over is something he’ll ever regret
after all, American life means prosperity,
Yet my mother longs to be in her own city
Where beyond the neon lights and smell of pollution and smoke
there’s scalding hot dwaenjang jjigae
and warm bibimbap with runny egg yolk

soul food has its name because it’s good for a hurting soul
And my mother’s is aching for Seoul

Koreans thrive everywhere they go
Because our parents pave the path
They’re the reason why we’re whizzes
in science, in math
We’re the ones who get A’s on our quizzes
but it’s not because I’m afraid of my mother’s wrath,
although I am,
It’s because the sacrifices they’ve made for me
forces me to try as hard as I can

Koreans thrive everywhere they go
It’s a story told in the shiny lavender hanbok
my mother wore in her conception dream
of my brother and I,
we were tigers that my mother had set free
away from burning forest fires
and demons that held whips that screamed terrible cries

and in that moment,
she had decided to become a dreaded “Tiger Mother”
and in her presence, not only her cubs
but everyone near would sob and shudder
With strictness and yelling comes with love,
at least the logic made sense to her

Koreans thrive everywhere they go
Because the blood of our people,
whether they’re in lands warm or cold,
forces us not to go unnoticed, unknown
Because the blood of of our people,
forces us to not give up and it rings

in the veins of the Mr. and Mrs. Kim,
at the cleaner’s down the street
Who choose to boil in their homes in the Atlanta heat
If it can guarantee that their paralysed daughter’s heart
will continue to beat

in the mind of Mr. Tyson
who has never come to terms with the color of his skin
but his “real” parents are enough of a reason
to create curiosity about his Korean kin

in the stomach of pregnant Mrs. Lee,
who barfs every time she smells hamburger meat
and can only seem to choke down bulgogi
Yet she insists she give birth in the “land of opportunity”
so that in Korea, her son will be able to live a life of security
if he is one of the select few who speak English fluently
as she fails to realize that being Korean-American these days
is no real specialty
It’s something my parents never fail to tell me
Whenever my test grades dare to dip below a ninety

Koreans thrive everywhere they go
So Mrs. Lee musn’t fret
I myself will place a bet
That his identity will see him through
His blood will ring true

Korean thrive everywhere they go
because we’re all watching over each other
We are all sisters and brothers,
don’t be afraid to let your Korean show.