The Reformer and I
Some time around the evening of October 1st, 2021, I was scrolling the dating app Bumble. I usually scrolled the app in the evenings, laid out on my cream couch after a day of teaching. Having been recently burned by an American man living on the Army base outside of Seoul, and having just finished Squid Game had me wondering if there was even anyone worth searching for on this app. or in this city. or in the entirety of this shadowy, shadowy world.
I swiped left, and left, and left, and left, and left andleft andleftandleftandleft … and then
I paused —
I swallowed the English teacher for a moment, and chewed on the words, “I enjoy it and find meaning from fighting for a better world.”
“And you’re a feminist too, huh, Moderated,” I thought to myself. “Well, we’ll see about that,” I said aloud to the empty room, skepticism cutting into my hope.
I thumbed away at my iphone keyboard, typing, “After watching Squid Game, I could use someone who wants to make the world a better place.” This began my first chat with Moderated.
In the coming weeks, I would learn that Moderated’s actual name is Dae-Han Song. In those first conversations via Bumble and then KakaoTalk, Korea’s WhatsApp, I learned that Dae-Han was kind. When I was struggling to negotiate what it would take to avoid quarantine after Christmas 2021, he picked up the phone and called me to see if he could help me navigate a visit to the Gu, or government office. I also learned that Dae-Han is well read. He quoted Shakespeare, and perhaps I thought he was trying to show off by doing so, but I would soon learn that Dae-Han is too earnest, too humble and authentic to show off, even when he could or maybe even sometimes when he should.
Before Dae-Han and I met in person for our first date, he invited me to join an online [progressive] forum that he was running. The focus of this forum was The United States’ role in Afghanistan. I understood little of what the forum really was, I knew little about the topic, but I was intrigued. I accepted his invitation.
On October 7th, I signed into Zoom to listen to Dae-Han and his International Strategy Center colleagues host researcher, historian, and author Vijay Prashad.
In truth, I was a bit distracted by Dae-Han’s handsome aesthetic, but I did also gain an understanding that there is a perspective about the US’s involvement in Afghanistan that the West has not been telling.
As I watched Dae-Han interview Prashad, I did not know — still do not know — enough about global politics to decide to what degree I agreed or disagreed with Prashad, but perhaps what was more significant to me was that the experience of being in that forum felt interesting, engaging … even expansive.
I do not think that Dae-Han had any great ulterior motives in inviting me to the forum (alright, he has since told me he did want to show off. a little.), but what I gathered from this invitation ultimately was that he was willing to be vulnerable, to show an authentic side of himself from early on, and that he was indeed who his Bumble profile said that he was: a man seeking to make the world a better place, even when Squid Game and certain Army dudes would lead you to believe there is little light left in this world.
Over the course of over a year now, I have come to know the heart of Dae-Han. He is who the Enneagram names as The Reformer, a “conscientious and ethical” man “always striving to improve things.” Perhaps it is no surprise that my father is also a Reformer; while his and Dae-Han’s politics are different, I can see them both striving for the greater good in this world.
Part of what has drawn Dae-Han and I together is the way in which we both do want to make spaces more equitable. While I work on a more micro scale, mainly my classroom (and recently beyond as I have become involved in the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion movement), Dae-Han works on a macro scale, co-running an NGO that is “dedicated to learning about and connecting with international social movements that confront injustice and corruption.”
As a dedicated activist striving for more justice, Dae-Han — the man I now call my partner, my keeper, and the love of my life — attends and engages with local protests and rallies. Recently, he asked if I wanted to attend one of these gatherings.
In truth, I did not take to this idea immediately. “A Saturday,” I thought to myself. “There is so much I could do with that afternoon: read, write, rest, run, nestle into a quaint cafe.” But I reflected on the weekend that Dae-Han gave to me in October, attending a Diversity, Equity, Inclusion exchange at a nearby(ish) international school. And then I thought about my desire to understand my partner’s work in this world better, and my desire to understand Korea better. And so I said, “yes, I’ll meet you at City Hall.”
As I was about to leave the apartment to take public transportation — ah, the ease and dependability of the bus and metro system in Seoul — it began to rain.
“Hey, just making sure the rally is still on,” I texted to Mr. Moderated.
“Rain won’t stop Koreans from gathering today,” he responded.
My last chance of a couch potato afternoon splattered like rain onto the pavement as I boarded the bus to City Hall, with some residual disappointment for missing the stillness of a slow Saturday but also interested in an afternoon to observe and learn.
When I arrived to City Hall, I found a crowd much larger than I anticipated. Some 90,000 farmers, workers, students, delivery people, and activists had gathered to struggle for better protection of the rights of Korea’s laborers.
While I could not understand the words each person was speaking, I could hear the strength and power in their voices. I also found it quite beautiful that there was sign language interpretation for the entirety of the rally, which you may note in the above — the woman in the circle is currently signing his speech.
Weighted down by rain, this banner is trying to float into the air.
As various speakers took the stage, Dae-Han translated for me. I am not particularly good at retaining information, dates and facts the way that he is, but I did learn that people gathered at this rally were struggling for three main things:
the ability to form unions
a law that would hold businesses more accountable for industrial accidents (addressing negligence)
the reversal of crippling fines placed upon those who strike (based on the pretext of lost business)
I do not understand Korea, her politics, and the struggles of the people well enough to pretend to have tangible viewpoints on the broader and smaller issues named here.
I did, though, feel the energy of thousands of people united to fight for their own and others’ safety and rights. It was an energy that thrummed and drummed into the air and through our bodies.
Dae-Han and I operate in quite different spheres, at this point we do not entirely share the same ideology, but I appreciate endlessly having a partner who shares in my journey and invites me to share in his.
