하프가 아니라 더블, 트리플 [이길보라의 경계에서 자란다]

A few years ago, the author participated as a judge in a Korean language speaking competition for students. This event, held nationwide due to the Covid-19 pandemic transitioning to a non-face-to-face format, involved students expressing their identity through writing in Korean. Initially, the author was unsure what kind of work this involved, but after watching the videos, they realized it was expanding their definition of "Korean language."

These students, who grew up in Japan, wrote about their struggles with identity, and their ability to convey messages effectively to the audience on stage was crucial, much like the confident, strong posture and voice of a young student dressed in traditional Korean attire. The content of their papers was ordinary, but they complemented their work with visuals, adding to the overall impact of their presentation.

While the author tried to judge fairly, they couldn't ignore the influence of the students' appearances, such as their costumes and makeup. The author often found themselves pondering what "speaking" truly means and what qualities it should possess, imagining a world where these students' identities, whether half-Korean, half-Japanese, or multiracial, were celebrated rather than marginalized.

The students came from various backgrounds, attending Korean schools in Japan or mainland Korean schools, and some even learned Korean at home or through special programs. Despite spending most of their lives outside of Korea, they were now determined to learn Korean, even for their parents' sake. Watching their language performances made the author reflect on their own experience of learning sign language in a society dominated by spoken language.

The author realized that their concept of "Korean language" was limited to their experiences within Korean borders. They understood that language spoken by users outside of Korea, especially minority languages, creates new identities and expands the spaces and depths of the Korean language, contributing to diaspora literature and art.

The author, as a child of a farmer, described as a "Coda" (Child of Deaf Adults), found that their experiences with being a half-Korean, half-Japanese, or multicultural individual would inevitably intersect with those of others.