Literally, Human (The Shape of My Heart)

Koong, kwang, koong, kwang…

Perhaps the very first sound I heard in this world, inside my mom’s belly, was my own heartbeat. As weird as it sounds, I often imagine myself in that moment, with the whole world by my side, including my mom, grandma, and even the scary uncle, Mark Lee. They were all waiting for me to come out into this world. Meanwhile, I was just having the time of my life, eating and focusing on myself. These days, I don't hear my heart pounding as loudly as when I was younger. I guess that is a sign of growing up, caring more about outside factors than myself. However, today is different. I hear my heartbeat as loud as ever, and if anyone could hear it, they would almost think the whole world was breaking down.

“Markey-ya, this day is so important for you, okay? Mommy trusts you can do this. You go to Stanford like Mark Sam-chon, and mommy wishes for nothing more,” Mom says in the car. Now, I know you’re wondering who Mark Sam-chon is, or what kinda name even is that. Simply, he’s my uncle, or more like a tin man sam-chon, a nickname my cousins and I gave him. We call him Tin Man Sam-chon, as he has no facial expression, and most likely doesn’t have a heart either. Sam-chon is a Korean term for uncle, which describes my background a little better. As much as I have no interest in talking to my uncle or being like him, he is a legend in my family. Mark Lee, who is he? He is our family's superstar who hauled our pride across the Pacific after my grandma’s divorce, a 'perfect' genius whose only glitch in twenty years of near-flawless English is a stubborn, failed battle with the word literally.

​

As I head to take my SAT, I ask myself: Do I really want to be like ‘The Mark Lee’? Even my name is after this genius, who is so perfect I often doubt if he’s even a human. On the other hand, it’s obvious I am nowhere near perfection. I find it ironic that this name represents my imperfection while standing for perfection when it comes to my uncle.

After I finish taking the test, I go to the front of the school and text my mom. ‘Where are you?’ I type in the small device I am holding with my hands, and press send. ‘On my way now!’ Mom texts back. I start walking a little further from the school while waiting for my mom to pick me up, as I definitely do not want to hear all the side conversations about how hard the test was. Actually, I don’t have to guess my SAT score with friends, unlike others. I already know how I did. Horrible. In my defense, there is a reason why this wasn’t my best performance, and not because of some stupid reasons, but an actual reason. I’VE BEEN SKIPPING MY SAT PREP.

​

A few months ago, my mom signed me up for one of those ‘hagwons’, which is the Korean word for a SAT prep class. Since she couldn’t afford sending me to fancy big hagwons, I ended up going to a small one in the middle of our town. The hagwon is in the smallest room of a second store building, and there are only two other students in my class: Claire Song and Andrew Park. If you insist on asking if they are my friends, well…not really. Even though we all go to the same school, I hang out with the dumb kids, while they hang out with the smart nerds, obviously. So you might ask, why are they in the same class as me if they are so smart? The answer is simple. We are all poor and ended up in the worst SAT class you will see around this area. Anyways, the important thing is that I skipped almost half of my SAT class. Listening to my story, it is valid that you think I am an ungrateful bastard. Still, I can’t help but defend myself, as I really did have a proper reason behind my behavior.

​I am applying to the 30th annual international writing competition of Caith Johnson. Not only is this one of the biggest writing competitions in the world, but it also gives you a $3,000 reward if you win first place. I told my friends that I am aiming for the enormous prize, but to my sincerest heart, I want to win this competition to prove that I am a worthy enough human. My mom’s favorite line is “Be a human”. This applies in all situations, from my messy room to kids who smoke in the streets without shame.

What does this even mean? Is being born as a homo sapien not enough to qualify as a human? Whenever I ask my mom what that means, she always says, “You don’t deserve human treatment without human behavior.” I don’t really know if I can’t understand her message because of her broken English or lack of logic, but I do understand one thing she’s trying to say: Go to college like ‘Mark Lee’ and become the next ‘Mark Lee’. That is the thing, though. I am already Mark Lee. I mean, everyone, including my mom, calls me Markey, but my legal name on my passport clearly says Mark Lee. I want to be accepted by my mom as an individual human being who has a dream of being the greatest writer in the world. I don’t want to be a Mark Lee who goes to Stanford and is an engineer. I don’t want to be a Mark Lee who still lives in this annoying town. I don’t want to be a Mark Lee who traps himself here supporting my family, without any joy in life. I want to be a human, not a tin man with no heart.

​

After getting back home from the SAT, my only interest is in the sweet little break I would have before school starts. I submitted my 50 page long story last friday, and now that SAT is done, all the time is for myself for the next two weeks. For a week, everything is peaceful. I mostly meet up with my best friend, DJ, and ride a bike or eat at a fast food restaurant. After spending the best week of my life, I see Claire Song on my way back home from the basketball court. This feels weird, as I never see Claire around the town. Actually, seeing her doing anything else rather than studying makes me feel oddly comfortable. After a moment of hesitation, I said hi to her across the street, close enough to see me. For a glimpse, I see her gaze catching mine, but soon she ignores me and walks towards the street where my mom’s store is. Feeling extremely awkward, I started walking faster home.

​

The next morning, I find myself waking up with my heart pounding even faster than the day of my SAT. However, this time, I can’t seem to find the reason why, until I completely wake myself up from my mom hitting me as hard as she can with my SAT book.

“Mom, are you crazy? Why are you hitting me? Stop!” I yell at her in full confusion. Yet, my words bounce out of her ears, and she doesn’t seem to stop.

“Um-ma! I said stop hitting me!” I yell at her once again, calling her mom in Korean, wondering if the words would reach her faster in her native language. I continue to scream as my mom doesn’t seem to stop anytime soon.

Finally, I yell towards my mom on top of my lungs,“Stop it right now!” Then, my mom finally puts the SAT book down and steps away from me. My mom looks at me and says one thing.

“Markey, you disappoint me. Claire told me everything yesterday. I have one wish, one wish that you work hard and you betray me. You are not a human. This is not a human act. I can’t believe this.”

I know this is my fault. Totally my fault. I know how hard my whole family works, and even though they don’t say it, it’s probably all because of me. If it weren’t me, they probably would’ve gotten out of this town way quicker. Though something inside me tells me something different. Why do I have to question my own worth all the time? Why can’t I just be accepted as human, Mark Lee, not a son to fulfill one’s dreams? And what if I do fulfill my mom’s dream? Am I gonna be stuck up in this stupid town like the ‘smart Mark Lee’, my uncle? I tell myself, don’t let it out, don’t let it out…screw it, I’m saying it.

“Mom, you know what? You’re the one who’s not a human. You make me question myself if I’m even a human every single day. Am I ever gonna be a human? Why do I have to keep chasing more and more and more just to maintain my status as a human? I can not believe that you find it so hard to accept me for who I am, unlike every other parent. Being a human is the soul, the passion, the love for life and others. I’m so sick and tired of this old house and this town full of snitches like Claire Song, who thinks she has the right to tell my business to other people. I’ve applied to the international writing competition of Caith Johnson. That’s why I had to skip SAT class. Because I have a real passion for it. Do you even understand the word passion?”

I split it all out and caught a deep breath. Finally, my heart comes back to its usual speed, and I feel calmer than ever, until I see a tear coming down my mom’s face. She walks away from my room, and I hear her packing her stuff to go to work.

This was a mistake. A huge mistake. I should’ve never said any of the things I told her. So why do I feel a deep relief? Mixed up with guilt and weird comfort, I fell asleep in my bed again. It was 3pm when my grandma, who I rarely talk to, woke me up.

“Markey, I know your mom can be harsh on you sometimes, but be nice to my daughter. I feel bad that you are always under so much pressure to be a ‘proper human.’ But you know what? Your mom was never one either.” My grandma starts speaking to me in Korean.

“I know Koreans always say be a human, but I don’t really agree with what they say. In my definition, being a human is to follow your heart. We all start our lives by the heartbeat, and die with the end of it. Kwoong Kwang Kwoong Kwang. Right?” She mimics the sound of a heartbeat in Korean, and for the first time, I realize that I always read my heartbeat in Korean, not English, even though I am not fluent in Korean at all. I see my grandma catching her breath, then returning to the conversation.

“And aren’t we the only ones to fully recognize the shape of our heart, unlike any other animals? I am proud to see you follow your heart, but always remember that your mom’s heart belongs to you, just as my heart belongs to her and your uncle. At the end of the day, she is a human as you are, so don’t be too harsh on her. I believe soon she will come back and talk to you, because that is how I raised her with my dearest heart. So when she does, you should apologize to her too, okay?”

Even though I speak such horrible Korean, I can fully understand her intentions right now. I promised her that I would apologize to my mom.

Unlike my grandma’s expectation, my mom doesn’t come back home until it’s late. It is 8:30 pm when I hear someone enter our front door, and I rush to check if it is my mom who has come home. Instead, I see my uncle, the other Mark Lee.

​

“Markey, can I talk to you?” says Uncle Mark. I feel terrified, since he never speaks to me. Uh-oh, something is bad. Like really BAD. I have no choice but to say yes, and we walk into his room, which I’m usually never allowed to go into.

The first thing I see when I enter the room is all the fidgets that he collects. I am stunned. I didn’t know he had so much personality in him. I thought he would be more like….you know, the tin man with no heart. I sit in an awkward silence with him in his room, waiting for him to open his mouth and say anything. After about 5 minutes had passed, finally, he initiates the conversation.

“Your mom told me what happened. She wanted me to tell you that she said sorry. She said she never meant to make you feel that way, and she really wishes you to know that she loves you so much, no matter what you do. You were always a human to her since the moment she had you in her arms, and seeing you all grown up makes her emotional, thinking she raised a whole human being by herself.”

I pause for a while, then feel a tear down my cheek. Mark Sam-chon approaches me with his arms wide open, and we stay in another awkward moment of sharing hugs for a while. Finally, we separate from each other.

“I’m really sorry too. There’s nothing for her to be sorry for me either; this was all my fault. And I know I should’ve studied for my SAT too. But something about this whole human thing, I just didn’t want to be another Mark Lee. I wanted to be a real human with my own life, not a clone of you.” I tell him.

“Look, Markey, I know what you think about my life. And it is clear that you and I are very different, too. But I ‘literally’ enjoy being myself, even though you might find it hard to believe,” says uncle Mark. Wait, did I just hear that right? He literally pronounced the word literally correctly.

“Wait, since when did you pronounce ‘literally’ so perfectly?” I ask.

“It’s been a year already. Listen, Markey, I know you have no interest in me whatsoever, but I do care about you a lot. I’ve been trying to fix it since you were five, telling me straight in my face that my pronunciation is wrong.” He smiles as if just thinking about that moment gives him joy.

“Markey, I know it’s your worst nightmare to live like me, but keep in mind that I’m a pretty awesome human, too. And if you think I give up all the fun and desire in life just to be a ‘proper human’, you’re wrong about that. I’m following my heart too, just like you, and my passion in life is to make my family happy. Truly, that is my biggest passion in life, and I’m happier than ever to see you mature so much, knowing that my dream has become my reality. You really grew up to be an awesome human. Not as cool as me, though, try harder, little nephew,” he says.

I almost cried hearing the most wonderful speech I’ve ever witnessed in my life, and proceeded to walk out of his room as if that didn’t impress me. I give my mom a long hug after she comes back home safely from work, and I have the best family dinner ever with all of my beloved family members: my grandma, my uncle, and most importantly, my mom.

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So now what, you might be wondering. Well, my SAT score ended up coming out as a 1350. Considering I didn’t study at all, it isn’t that bad, and my mom is satisfied with it too. School started, and I give Claire Song the biggest side eye any time I see her in the hallway, but maybe I am a little grateful that she did what she did, because now I am carefree from all the lies and confusions that I carried along my life. Recently, I got an email from the international competition of Caith Johnson. They told me I’ve passed the semi-finals, and the final result comes out today. Today, I came home as soon as possible after school ended, and opened my laptop on the table. The whole family is waiting for me to open the email, and I hesitate a little to open it, because I start hearing my heart pounding again. Win or lose, I already know the shape of my own heart, and for the first time, I can hear it beating in sync with the three people sitting right next to me. Koong, kwang, koong, kwang...