I don't consider this a prediction or anything, it's just my own way of coping with the S2 finale lol (think of it as an AU of sorts 🤔)

Mustard Seed Generation Summit on Mental Health in the Korean Community

So, first things first. I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack and I feel a little queasy, but I’m going to process my thoughts out here first before I crash. It all started because I said my final goodbye to a friend who is moving away to Baltimore. We first returned her library books, and then I bought her a cup of coffee. We sat on a bench together for only ten minutes or so because I was planning on meeting another friend at 10. But in those ten minutes I was able to geek out about how I believe there is both predestination and absolute free will, and how this is compatible with certain philosophical theories on the nature of time. 

And then, as I’m walking to meet my friend at the thrift store, I’m thinking - I probably can’t take this coffee with me into the store - because the thrift store has clothing items and they probably don’t want customers to spill drinks on them. So I down it. Five blocks, grande-sized hot coffee, emptied and thrown into a trash can. I walk around with my friend in the thrift store for like forty-ish minutes (really delightful place, by the way), and then handed off a friend’s new apartment keys (giving like a mile a minute explanation because the summit is about to begin), ran into my apartment (at some point in all this rushing I changed out of my t-shirt into a blouse), sat down at my desk, and joined the zoom session for the summit. 

Part 1. S t e v e n  Y e u n 

My heart rate is already ramping up because of the blast of coffee on an empty stomach, and then it’s time for opening remarks by S t e v e n  Y e u n. His face filled my computer screen in casual clothes with large black earphones, his characteristic facial hair gone, his mouth talking about such wonderful things... When he looked into the screen it felt like he was talking to me, that we were having a conversation about our observations of the world.  I find the way I type his name very funny because I saw someone else on the summit FB group type his name this way too. I guess there’s something about Steven Yeun that makes us want to t y p e  o u t  t h e  l e t t e r s. Maybe add some ** and some ~~. ~*S t e v e n  Y e u n*~. At the end of the summit, we were asked to summarize our summit experience in one word and someone wrote “Steven.” Haha girl, we are with you. 

I also find the way I feel very funny because I had zero interest in Steven Yeun when he was growing in popularity because of The Walking Dead. People would always comment on how good looking he is, but I don’t know, I didn’t really care. (To be clear, it’s not because he’s not good looking, I just think my recognizing-good-looking-people part of my brain isn’t very well developed. As one friend observed “너 진짜 얼굴 안 보는구나...”/”wow you really don’t care if someone’s good looking or not...”) It wasn’t until I read one of his interviews and heard him speak on random podcasts that I started to want to space out the letters~ It wasn’t until he opened his mouth that I realized wait, this is quite the attractive human being (who is happily married with two kids, ahem). 

A n y w a y, as I am smiling and twirling in my chair and thankful that we don’t have to show our video for this portion, I did write notes on the wonderful things he was sharing about. He has a depth of insight, vulnerability, intellectual honesty, love for his family, and passion for his work that I find very attractive... *Chair twirl* Right. Back to the content of what he said: 

He shared about how he sees mental health issues in the Korean and Korean American community as the result of Korean Americans having to reconcile contradicting realities - something he experienced as a Korean immigrant kid growing up. He also shared about how, in his experience preparing to play a native Korean man in Burning, he learned to embrace the loneliness of being forever an “other” as a global citizen of the world, instead of stressing about belonging to one culture or another. 

He talked about the overwhelming fear and anxiety he feels about the future, whether it’s triggered by the birth of a child or taking on a new creative project, or wondering whether after his current project ends he will be able to find the next job. Sometimes, the fear is so overwhelming that he ends up crying in the shower. But these are the moments where he *feels* his faith and can move forward with gratitude and confidence knowing that these things are gifts. (I understand, after talking with some friends, that the nature of his faith is ambiguous, though he does have some background in the Christian church. But I appreciate and value the way he is radically honest about the process and his questions, and doesn’t pretend to know all the answers). 

He mentioned that the pandemic is breaking down structures, which allows us to see our humanity again. I resonated with this observation as someone who has been feeling confused and vulnerable this season as the pandemic muddles my expectations of what my life and future will look like. I have been beginning to understand this process personally for me as grace, the process by which God is bringing me back to a place of humility and vulnerability, to know that the things I sometimes want aren’t necessarily the things that are promised, but that, if I let God take control, I can trust Him to take me to where I need to be. 

He also talked about how he is growing in empathy for first generation immigrants (specifically, his parents) and what they went through, something that the panelists in following portion of the summit loved to quote...

Part 2. Keynote Panel on Mental Health in the Korean Immigrant and Korean American Community

The keynote panel addressed mental health themes and differences in service delivery for first and second generation Korean immigrants/Americans. First, the experience of listening to the 6 or so panelists was absolutely incredible. All the clinicians had varying levels of experience and acculturation with Korean culture, American culture, and third culture. They were also all fluent in both Korean and English, so the panel was this seamless flow between Korean and English language that I have never seen before. It was so exciting to see people having the freedom to express their observations in the language that was better equipped to express it. Acknowledging that not everyone in the audience was probably bilingual and I am not sure if accommodations were made so that monolingual speakers wouldn’t miss out on the content (the rest of the summit was great in this regard), I was reveling in the flow. Here are some of the takeaways:

Q: How have you dealt with the Western orientation of psychology and psychotherapy training in academic institutions? One of the clinicians talked about how when she was in school, everything was so process oriented. Assess, assess, assess. It’s about the process. But she learned that this was not always effective with Korean clients, who are more goal-oriented (빨리 빨리 culture), and want to solve problems right away. “Tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it.” So this clinician learned that a great way to build trust with (typically first gen) Koreans is to provide concrete, tangible homework and tools. Korean clients love this because they can feel the effects right away. And once you have gained their trust, then you can venture to address the deeper, more process-oriented issues. 

 Speaking of 1st gen, Q: What are some specific ways to address mental health issues in the 1st gen Korean community? 1st generation Koreans typically aren’t using to talking about their emotions. So one clinician does a *lot* of practice with emotion identification with this population. Another clinician talked about the important of normalizing family dynamics and stresses, “다른 가족들도 비슷해요, 어머니...” / “Other families are like this too...” Helping people understand that they’re not alone, they’re not crazy, that other people and other families go through experiences and emotions like this too. 

Q: How can we address the stigma of mental health in the Korean community? 1) Psychoeducation, educational workshops, or working through churches. If mental health-related information is shared in a public forum, it takes away the shame and stigma of seeking individual services. It also helps to work through churches or other organizations that Korean community members might trust. It also helps to brand things in an indirect way, I.e. “well-being” or “healthy life” instead of “suicide prevention,” “건강" instead of “정신 건강" 2) Creating spaces for people to talk about their mental health and encouraging people in power to talk about their mental health struggles and emotions, e.g. encouraging “pastors in the pulpit” or “fathers at the dinner table” to talk about their emotions and struggles 3) One clinician talked about how she really tries hard to spin things in a positive way for her clients because there is so much shame and stigma around mental health. For example, if her client is going through menopause, she will say “Menopause is God’s blessing! Maybe it’s an opportunity for you now to finally live for yourself instead of devoting your life to taking care of other people.”

Q: How can we teach/talk about boundaries while affirming Korean family connectedness? This. question. The million dollar question. I think about this question A LOT. And talk to my Korean American therapist friends about it all the time. In fact, I was too busy texting my friends that I didn’t quite catch what the panelists said about this question HAHA. I need to wait for the recording to see. But if I can share with why this question is so important... I think boundaries is a *huge* point of cultural division for Korean Americans. Most Koreans have no experience with boundaries or reference point for it. “What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine.” A lot of Koreans feel like there is no point to a relationship unless you feel that deep closeness, that 정. When I talk to certain Koreans or Korean Americans about boundaries, it really is a foreign concept to them. They have *no* idea what I’m talking about and sometimes interpret it as selfishness or coldness. Now, flip to the other side. I often find the Western concept of boundaries too harsh for Korean families. In general, I deeply believe in the value of boundaries for healthy emotional well being and healthy relationships. For example, with romantic relationships, I think it is important to have clear delineations between who is a significant other and who is a friend of the opposite gender. C l e a r. But a lot of times when (white) therapists ask their Korean clients to set boundaries, it doesn’t feel right. A KA friend once had a white therapist who asked her to set boundaries with her mother, and when my friend tried, her mother went absolutely ballistic. I think a culturally sensitive therapist would either have prepared my friend for that reaction OR came up with a solution of how to set boundaries that are more flexible, porous, and gentle (baby steps). I had another KA friend whose white friends told her to just cut off contact with her parents if her parents are saying harmful things to her. She reacted as I would, saying that you can’t just completely cut off your parents like that. This is a concept I struggle with personally as well. I am an only child, a daughter, and I am *v e r y* close with my parents. I am aware that I probably talk to my parents more often and about more things than the average person. I had a therapist tell me to fight this codependence and fight to become more independent. I absolutely see his point, because there are moments when I do feel codependent, I.e. feel highly dysregulated and emotional when I feel at odds with my parents. I have grown in this. And yet, it also doesn’t feel right for me to completely throw away our closeness because I value their wisdom and support. So I’m always in this dance of is this codependence? Is this closeness? Tune in next week to find out. Lol. 

Part 3 (Breakout Session 1). Neuroscientific Play Therapy with Korean American Families

So... Between you and me, this session was underwhelming. 90% of the session was about common mental health challenges for Korean American families, children, and adolescents, including racial trauma and micro-aggressions. I thought the information the speaker provided was important but too basic and general for an audience that is probably familiar with these themes as MH professionals. I also thought it took time away from what *was* fascinating and her area of expertise, and that was using play therapy specifically in the context of Korean American families. 

For those of you who are not familiar, play therapy is usually used with young children to help them express their emotions and process traumatic events. Children use mediums like sand tray & toys or art to share with a trusted & safe therapist about their family and the things they’ve been through. (It really is fascinating what children can express with their toys... I had a former colleague who did this and it’s so powerful). 

What was interesting was that this clinician used sand trays, toys, and art activities with middle aged adults, too. She shared pictures of what her clients created with toys and drawings, expressing their experiences with domestic violence, sexual assault, and family separation - expressing their deepest desire to be protected, to feel free from the chains that weigh down their mind, etc. I also appreciated the reminder that human brains are plastic (I.e. neural pathways can be re-programmed) with positive, sensorimotor, patterned, and repetitious activities. Left to their own devices, humans don’t change. Change is *hard.* And yet, it is not impossible. That’s why the work of the Holy Spirit will never get old to me, because what is more not-of-this-world than a changed heart? It is rare. It is *hard* for people to change. (Think about the last time you changed your mind about something! As for me, I’m as stubborn as hell...) But with commitment to sanctification (which may include some therapy!), it is *possible* for people to change. W o w. 

Part 4 (Breakout Session 2). The Intersection between Identity, Trauma, and Racism for Korean Adoptees

In comparison to the first breakout session, this session was amazing. Moses Farrow, a bi-racial Korean adoptee who also provides mental health services to other adoptees, talked at length about the experiences and traumas of being a transnational adoptee to America with vulnerability and honesty. He was also such a gentle, intentional soul. First, he read from his own autobiography about how complicated one’s search for identity can be when you are adopted. He shared about how questions that have obvious answers to most people were complicated for him. “Who do I look like? (He looked at us and said, all of you.) What is my birthday? (The date when I arrived in the U.S.) Where am I from? (I was found in a telephone booth somewhere in Seoul).” Then he played a clip from the documentary “Adopted,” where a Korean adoptee tries to talk to her white adoptive mother about her experiences. “But people liked you, you fit in,” says her mom. “No mom,” she corrects, “I didn’t. [She talks about being bullied for her small eyes in school].” “But you never said anything,” said the mom. “I couldn’t” replied the daughter. “It was hard to explain” (sometimes it’s difficult to put experiences into words when you are going through it). Finally, he ended by reading “Coming Out of the Adoptee Fog,” a piece written by another Korean adoptee by the name of Mark Hagland to describe the experience of feeling a perpetual *fog* and self-loathing about his identity growing up and how he came to his own in his mid-40s and 50s. Mark urges adoptive parents of Korean children to move into spaces of diversity and to face their discomfort for the sake of their children. 

Here are some other takeaways from this session:

*Importantly* he talked about the need for differential diagnoses - that behind what you see as anxiety, depression, eating disorder, etc. may be the trauma of adoption, many times adoption into families that do not share the same ethnic heritage. 

Moses talked about how most adoptees are isolated in their self loathing, deep anxiety, and addiction, and not connected with other adoptees.

He pointed out that the ACES study does not include adoption as a childhood traumatic experience. A score of 4+ on the ACES scale increases suicide attempt by 1220%.

Adoptees are 4x more likely to commit suicide than non-adoptees. 

Someone asked a question on how we can assess families for readiness to adopt children so that protective factors would be in place to mitigate the trauma of adoption. Moses had the following suggestions/thoughts:

KAN trainings - there are trainings out there by Korean adoptee organizations to this effect.

Educate people. There is a whole library of memoirs, blogs, books, and articles written by adult adoptees about their experiences.

Do the parents understand their own trauma? The adoptive parents should do their *own* trauma work to avoid transmission of intergenerational trauma. 

Do the parents understand trauma reactions and know how to support a child exhibiting them? If their adopted child is exhibiting trauma symptoms, do they know how to handle that?

The need for differential diagnosis as explained earlier.

Most adoptive parents are isolated and under supported. 

Part 5. Ending Session

Once the breakout sessions were over, we all gathered in one space. There was a raffle for prizes, and then everyone was asked to summarize the summit in one word and share it, written on a piece of paper. I wrote “united.” I felt a 든든함, a sense of security, knowing that there are other Koreans and Korean Americans out there defying stereotypes, fighting stigmas, and caring for the people in our community.