[Crazy Quilt] The Korea Times and I-코리아타임즈 2000.11.1

[김재엽]

장 교수님께서 장기 기고하셨던 <코리아타임즈>의 'Crazy Quilt'(조각이불) 칼럼이 끝났던 2000년 1월 이후, <코리아타임즈>의 창간 50주년 기념으로 임시로 하나 기고하신 내용입니다. 'Crazy Quilt'란 이름으로 나온 건 이 글이 마지막이었던 셈이죠.

근데 그때로부터 무려 9년(!)이나 지나서야, 그것도 당시 장 교수님 수업까지 하나 수강하고 있던 제가 뒤늦게 이걸 발견하니 아쉬울 따름이네요. 진작 알았다면 아마 "어, 교수님. Crazy Quilt 다시 쓰시는 건가요? 이왕 이렇게 된 거 계속쓰지죠, 네?"하고 졸라댔을 겁니다. 

(편의상 번역은 생략하오니, 양해 부탁드립니다)

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[Crazy Quilt] The Korea Times and I

By Chang Young-hee

Do any of you readers remember who I am? Until last January I wrote a column called Crazy Quilt in the Korea Times for 13 years. Some readers may wonder why I'm writing again. They may think I'm following in the steps of the sports stars and entertainers who `retire' but soon return, invariably saying they cannot turn down their fans' strong support any longer, and it's the least they can do for their adoring fans. Sometimes I suspect they have secret plans laid out even before they `retire,' about how and when they will return, thus gaining even bigger attention and applause.

In my case, however, I'm not coming back to continue a column; I'm coming back because it's the 50th birthday of The Korea Times. How can I pass up the chance to say "Happy Birthday?''

As I reflect back over the years of my Crazy Quilt, I find it ironical that I ever wrote for a newspaper at all. To be honest, I'm not an avid newspaper reader. I'm a late riser, and in the mornings, always too busy preparing myself for another day's struggle, I have no time even to read the headlines. At night, I bypass newspapers again because I don't want to strain my already-tired eyes by reading a newspaper that usually doesn't contain any`news.' So if I feel like it, I watch the 9 o'clock TV news instead, or I simply don't bother to update myself about world matters.

However, The Korea Times is not just another newspaper for me; it's something more than that. It is one of the things I automatically associate with my father, the late Dr. Chang Wang-rok, one of the first subscribers, a faithful reader, and a prolific contributor of The Times all his life. I cannot remember a time when The Korea Times was not in my household, so, like an old heirloom; it always occupies a space in the backdrop of my childhood memories. And during the time I wrote for it, it was not just a newspaper but a `crazy quilt' of my hopes and dreams, the joys and sorrows that are ingrained in my heart.

For as long as I remember, my father's routine every morning was to bring the newspaper and a pair of scissors to the bathroom. When we were young, there was only one bathroom in our house, and every morning there would be a war among six of us over the use of it. But our father, conveniently ignoring our bangings on the door, sat there peacefully, cutting various clippings out of the newspaper. On the days he found many interesting articles to cut out, one or two of my siblings had to head to school deprived of their bathroom visit.

So from my childhood, long before I learned to read the alphabet, I could read the two English words, ``Korea Times.'' At the time I imagined there was something irresistible in the newspaper that made my father deny even his children's physical needs. As a child I used to look at the photos, cartoons, and all the intriguing-looking English sentences, and who knows, maybe it was my unconscious desire to decipher all those mysterious foreign words that made me later major in English.

The very first time my name was ever printed in The Korea Times was in 1974, when my writing professor submitted to the newspaper one of the essays I had written for him. It was printed with my picture in the column called `Student Corner.' Regrettably I've misplaced the newspaper, so I cannot remember what the essay was about. But very proud of his student's `great achievement,' Fr. Breunig, my professor and the chairman of the English department of the time, showed it to all my classmates.

He announced, ``Look at Chang Young-hee's essay in The Korea Times.'' He held up the newspaper high so everyone could see my picture. He then pointed to the picture of foreign columnist on the same page. (If my memory serves me correctly, it was Bishop Richard Rutt, who wrote ``Diary of a Country Priest,'' one of the most popular and long-lasting columns in the history of The Korea Times.) Fr. Breunig continued to say, ``If you keep practicing writing English, someday, one of you might be a regular columnist for the paper like him.'' And little did I dream that 13 years later, I actually began to have my own column, Crazy Quilt.

The first Crazy Quilt column appeared on Jan. 17, 1987, the year after I returned from the States and started teaching at Sogang, and the last one was on Jan. 7th of 2000. The period was the most formative years for Korea as it went through the throes of being born into a democratic society. But 13 years is a big chunk of time in one's life too.

I started to write the column as a young and enthusiastic teacher gradually adjusting myself to the Korean society and academia, but I quit as a still-young (in heart only) but less enthusiastic teacher, smugly settled in the rut of teaching. I started the column when I was old enough to be my students' elder sister and now I am old enough to be their mother. I started the column when I had only three nephews and now I have ten nephews and nieces (how fast the population grows!). My pre- and post-Crazy Quilt period can be also distinguished by my memory capacity. I started the column when I could remember everything _ from my students' names to my sisters' apartment numbers. Now remembering my own cell-phone number is struggle enough. The technological development is quite drastic too. When I first started, my father used to deliver the columns to The Korea Times taking a couple of hours for a round trip, but now I send my articles by e-mail in seconds.

Most of all, however, the biggest difference before and after the period is that The Korea Times in my house is now always wholesome with nobody cutting the articles out.

Even on the day he passed away, July 17th of 1994, my father had cut out a clipping of an article on ``Comet Levy Will Hit Jupiter Tonight _ Biggest Cosmi Event in 20C.'' After the funeral I cut out an obituary describing his life and sudden death, and that was the last time someone ever cut out an article from The Korea Times in my house.

So my father is gone, but the memories of him remain in my columns. As I go over the past columns, I can renew the precious memories of so many people who were part of my life at one time or another _ my students, my teachers (including Fr. Breunig), my friends, casual acquaintances, and of course, the members of my family. If someone accuses me of writing too personal episodes for a newspaper, I have no argument against it. But I'm a firm believer of what the famous essayist E. B. White said about writing: ``When you want people to believe what you write, write about a man, not about Man.'' After all, isn't a newspaper about a man's, not about Man's, personal traumas, successes, accomplishments, and efforts _ all these to make the world better?

Confucius said 50 years of age is the age of Jichonmyong (finally understanding Heaven's Commands.) Knowing Heaven's Commands is not easy for us humans, but Confucius could mean that we finally begin to gain insights into life from the many diverse experiences we have had. He may mean, when we reach the age of 50, we finally begin to understand the meaning and value of our existence in the world and thus know how we can offer our help to make this world better.

Having reached the mature age of Jichonmyong, The Korea Times is standing on the verge of soaring higher into the sky to see the whole world and make it better.

Happy Birthday, Korea Times! May your next 50 years be filled with happier news, good people, faithful readers, and great columns!

저작권자 ⓒ Korea Times. 무단 전재-재배포 금지