Hi, my name is Zoë Kim (she/her). I identify, first and foremost, as a storyteller (aka 이야기꾼).
Since I was five years old, I had always wanted to make art that was helpful. Becoming a performer of some sort was all I ever wanted and watching American television and films sparked a relentless obsession of being part of that world. It seemed impossible but exciting and I was determined to figure it out somehow.
I fell in love with performing because of my grandmother who raised me. She was my whole world growing up. She was a fan of the arts, especially poetry and theatre - so I wrote, danced, sang, and told stories to entertain her. Life was really hard on her and the only times I ever heard her laugh was when I would perform for her. She would joke and say that maybe one day, she would see me on TV making the whole world laugh too. Because I made her feel better and my stories made her forget her sadness.
That was all it took for me. It meant everything to me that I had the power to do that for someone, especially someone I loved. Performing became like an aphrodisiac and putting on shows for her was all I wanted to do for the rest of my life. That’s why I got to where I am today.
There were a lot of challenges in coming to America but I finally made it when I was sixteen. I felt unstoppable. But that year quickly became a confusing time for me. I went from identifying as a Korean to suddenly being categorized under the monolith of Asian-American. It felt a little bit like an erasure or dismissal of who I thought I was. I quickly started to reject my Korean-ness to fit in and to make my identity easy to understand for others.
Then, when I started taking a closer look at the entertainment industry in America - for me, meaning theatre, tv, and film - I realized a severe lack of representation of people who looked like me. And the few characters that did, didn’t feel relatable. They were somehow all similar, general, one-dimensional, and just… ‘Asian.’ I immediately felt the impulse to change that, even though I had no idea how I would do it. Meanwhile, I kept waiting for things to change.
But things didn’t change. Not really. We absolutely made a lot of progress over the last few years but it’s not nearly enough. I’ve been told on multiple occasions by well-intentioned non-Asians that it’s an ‘advantage’ to be Asian now because everyone is casting diversely and we are no longer discriminated against. I’m often given examples of the success of Crazy Rich Asians or Shang-Chi to prove that the bamboo ceiling has been destroyed. I’ve been told to look at how much opportunity there is for Asian actors now. I cannot count how many times I’ve been told to be grateful.
Yes. This is true. It is true that our industry is evolving and becoming more inclusive for many. And these examples, however token they are, do make a huge difference and give me hope for the future. And I’m so grateful that my community is getting more work now than ever before.
But I do not agree for one second that that’s good enough or that my personal experience of being discriminated against within the industry is a thing of the past. We must do better and will do better. We must validate and empower each other to have all our voices be heard. Representation matters.
When the pandemic hit in 2020, I thought long and hard about how I would move forward as a human and as an artist living in America. COVID-19 marked the resurgence of blaming the AAPI community for the spreading of infectious diseases. Anti-Asian hate crime skyrocketed across the globe and hearing hateful language simply due to my appearance quickly became the new norm. Witnessing and living through this experience made me think about what I could do within my power to create something positive and healing.
I decided to take my artistry and nearly fifteen years of work experience in nonprofits, program management, event production, and marketing to start Seoulful Productions. I wanted to create a platform where I could make helpful art with my friends and give back to society in the best way I know how. I wanted to reclaim my Korean heritage, celebrate my Korean-American identity, and help others like me do the same. It’s also my love letter to the AAPI community and to the world.
It’s my sincere hope that, with intention and practice, this organization will spread love little by little and drive out the hate from within our lives and eventually the world. Because art has the power to create change and save lives.
Thank you for being here and getting to know me.
With radical love,
Zoë Kim. 김 진.