My Letter to Oprah

Jin Kyu (Suh) Robertson

Major (retired), U.S. Army; Ph.D., Harvard University

jkrobert@hanmail.net

12 August 2008

Oprah Winfrey Show

Harpo Studios

1058 W. Washington St.

Chicago, IL 60607


Dear Ms. Oprah Winfrey:


I would like to be a guest on your show because I have an unusual story which can inspire/motivate the people in the world: beginning as a virtual slave in a wig factory in Seoul, Korea, I completed a doctorate in the history of international relations at Harvard University.


I am a fifty-nine year old woman who retired from the U.S. Army at the rank of major in 1996, after having served for twenty years. I joined the U.S. Army as a private first class to stop being a battered wife and was a twenty-eight year old mother of an eight months old daughter.


My life in America began in 1971 when I immigrated alone as a housemaid, having found a job from a newspaper advertisement of a referral agency. I was twenty two years old, spoke very little English, had no relatives or friends in America, and had only $100 to my name with much debt to pay back. But my life in Korea was worse. I was born into a poor Korean family and worked as a waitress, housemaid, and clerk in addition to a factory girl.


During my early teen years, I had to help mother with endless house chores. She had a small tavern to attend to and had no time for anything else. I also had to look after my baby brother who seemed younger than his age: he was retarded. His condition caused my mother to turn to drink, and that added more nightmares to my childhood. Reflecting anger for her sad fate of being a woman, mother used to yell at me, “Girls are useless! You are useless!” Over mother’s heartbreaking wails, I heard the louder voice of my silent anger: “Why? Was it my fault to be born a girl?”


Then there were winters: the cold, cold days of my childhood. While washing a mountain of dirty clothes in freezing water at a small stream nearby, soon my wet hands became numb as icicles were forming on my feet. As I pounded the cloth on a rock with a wooden stick, my trembling voice echoed a scream through my shaking body: “Why me? Why do I have to live like this?”


One cold winter night, I was standing outside of mother’s tavern while carrying my baby brother on my back trying to put him to sleep. The snow had stopped after painting the whole world white. Following my white breath, I found the sky with a pale blue moon and twinkling stars. Between the hissings of the wind, I could hear the soft breathing of my brother peacefully sleeping with his small head comfortably resting on my shoulder. My bare cheeks felt cold but the close warmth from my baby brother’s tiny body on my back felt very nice. As if dreaming, I stared into mother’s tavern. Behind the steam-fogged glass door, I saw mother arguing with town drunkards and father busily trying to separate them. My frozen nose tingled. At that moment, along with the drunkards, father came out to go to work at the railroad station for the night shift. With a broad smile, he lightly patted my head before he got on his old bicycle. Suddenly I felt a big lump blocking my voice. I stood there silently watching his skinny small back disappearing into the dark alley as his rusty bike slid dangerously over the slippery snow. Then, suddenly, he disappeared into the dark alley as if he had been sucked into the mysterious world, leaving only a thin trace of white smoke behind. As warm tears were rolling down my cold cheeks, I felt my sobbing voice swirling in my heart: “It is not your fault that you were born into a poor lowly family. One day father, I will achieve my goal and will take care of you. I will show the world that what you are born into does not decide how you must live!”


Four decades later, two major Korean TV stations made documentaries about my life, and my autobiography was published in Korea and Japan where I began giving motivational speeches in both languages. The story of my odyssey could inspire people around the world to follow their dreams, whatever hardships they have endured as it has already inspired millions in Korea, where I am a well known speaker and bestselling author.


Most of all, I am a lucky mother. I am truly proud of my daughter, Jasmin S. Cho, who in spite of having been raised by a single mother as an army brat, graduated from Harvard College in the year 2000. After having been a top cadet of her ROTC Class throughout her college years, she is now a Captain and a Company Commander of an Air Defense Artillery (Patriot Missile) Battery in the U.S. Army. Although she studied at public schools most of her childhood, when she graduated from a high school (public), she received an award from President Clinton as one of 141 Presidential Scholars, selected out of 2.5 million American high school graduates in 1995. She is also fluent in English, Korean, and Japanese.


My story of the American Dream has made quite an impact on the lives of many Koreans and Japanese thus far. I hope to partake in your endeavor, helping not only Americans but also the people of the world in bettering their lives, by appearing as a guest on your show.


Sincerely Yours,

Jin K. Robertson

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