Sunny Lee

Sunny Lee arrived in Hawaii from South Korea when she was 1 year old. She was raised in southeast Los Angeles and later attended college in Santa Barbara, California. Once she and her family immigrated to Los Angeles, her father became the owner of a liquor store that was later looted during the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Due to the after-math of the riots, her family went through a lot of hardship. However, their faith and connection with the church community got them through it. She discussed the Korean War and its effects on her family, the Los Angeles riots and the impact it had on immigrant small business owners, and her career change to working with the immigrant older adult community. She offered insight based on her experience navigating care for her parents as they aged and the importance of culturally sensitive eldercare.

The Tidal Wave of Need

Interview by KSP Workshop Participants

Where’s your hometown? Where are you from?

I was born in Korea. I immigrated when I was 1 year old. I get excited when I say we landed in Hawaii first, but [we were there] for a brief moment, and then we came to the States. I pretty much spent my entire youth in Downey [in southeast Los Angeles County]. Then, after college in Santa Barbara and minus a few years in Korea and China, the rest of my time has been spent mostly living here in Koreatown. 

What town were you from in Korea?

I was born in Seoul. It’s tough to say which neighborhood because I was only 1. I don’t have any recollection of it. My mother is from the northern area of what is now known as South Korea, somewhere near Incheon and the DMZ [the demilitarized zone between North Korea and South Korea]. For those of you who do not know, at one point, Korea was just one country, not North and South. My mother shared that she and her siblings were orphaned by the time she was 12, which was right around the time the war happened in 1950. She lost a sibling in North Korea as well. One day, he went into the northern area and never returned. To this day, she still has no idea what happened to him. She spoke very little of her painful childhood. Actually, both my parents lived through traumatic losses due to the war, so neither of them talked about it, which was common for most people in their generation. My dad is from Seoul, so we first lived as a family in Seoul, then immigrated to the U.S. with my mother’s siblings and their immediate families after I turned 1.

Why did you end up in Hawaii first [when you were immigrating to the United States]?

Hawaii was just the first stop on a very long trip — a layover — but I had such a bad bloody nose that wouldn’t stop that my dad wanted a doctor to see me since I was only 1. From there, I was in Virginia for a year or two and then in Gainesville, Florida, for about another year. Gainesville was not a very fancy place. Then, by the time I was about 3 1/2 or 4 years old, we were in California.

My father was a businessman and graduated with a business degree from a Korean university. My mom had a thriving antique business. My sisters have pictures with nannies; each had a nanny, and they lived this wealthy life and went on all these vacations. But the minute we immigrated to the States, my father became a small business owner — a liquor store owner. It’s what the others who immigrated before him did, as their degrees did not mean the same here, and they barely spoke any English. That’s what they did for the entirety of their lives until [my dad] had to retire due to the [1992 Los Angeles] riots. After immigrating, our lives looked very different: no more nannies, no more family trips, no more anything like that because, as a businessman and the “breadwinner,” he had to open that [liquor] store seven days a week. So, [life] looked very different than expected.

But my aunts and uncles played a big role in [helping me] see the rest of the States and travel to national parks. Despite my parents never taking me, I still feel lucky that I was able to experience those things. A lot of kids during that time of immigration, including myself, were “latchkey kids,” which meant we were locked at home while our parents were at work. I have two sisters, five and seven years older than me, so they took care of me.

Was your father’s liquor store in Koreatown?

No, but it was in South Central, so it was one of the first to be completely looted. Unfortunately, the saddest part was that people from the neighborhood he knew did it. People from the community also called him when it happened.

The community members were split between fighting for their own needs and the community’s needs. I experienced it, but I couldn’t grasp or understand it as well as I do now because I was only a senior in high school. That happened in ‘92. 

The irony was that when I went to see the store, everything was gone, except for — I remember very vividly — Ariel detergent for cleaning and diapers. There was gasoline all over the floor as well. So, had they lit the liquor store on fire, we would have gotten insurance and been able to recover. But unfortunately, the event was categorized as “looting and rioting,” and theft insurance didn’t cover anything. At the time, they said FEMA and various institutions would come to help and assist, but unfortunately, a lot of immigrant businesses just went out of business. They restocked, but my parents were never able to recover. About a year later, they had to [declare] bankruptcy. 

We ended up losing the house, and unfortunately, we never moved back into a home. But you know, we grew up in the church, so our faith really carried us through, and we learned to go without things. That was definitely a hard season. 

Do you live in Koreatown now?

I live in the Westlake area, right outside of Koreatown, between downtown Los Angeles and Koreatown. It’s like a working-class Latino area. I had to move closer to where my mom lived then.

Lucy Hwang: What are your thoughts on the experience of aging, and what have you learned from working with elders?

Wow, that’s a broad question. My experiences with elders, seniors, and aging first came from my personal experience. My dad and mom were older, and they both have now passed. But my dad suffered from a stint in the hospital. He was in the hospital for about 40 days due to various illnesses that he contracted in the hospital. Then, he continued to contract other viruses during his elongated stay there. They were super viruses that kept him there for a long time. At the time, my mom was experiencing early-onset dementia, which a lot of Asian people — and I can speak to Koreans more specifically — sort of dismiss because it’s hard to diagnose.

Technically, you cannot diagnose Alzheimer’s until they’ve actually passed away. Only at that point can they cut into the brain and see what happened to it. The way that they diagnose dementia these days is more like this: “If it sounds like a dog, if it smells like a dog, and if it barks like a dog, then it must be a dog.”

That’s similar to what [the process of diagnosing dementia] is like, though, of course, it is much more scientific and data-based … but that’s generally how it is. An example of that would be Robin Williams; they thought he [died by] suicide, but he was actually suffering from dementia. When he passed away and they did the autopsy, they found out that he had a form of dementia that kept him in a loop of psychosis and hallucinations, which ultimately led to his killing himself.

So, my mom had early-onset dementia. The absence of my dad when he was in the hospital triggered that. And when he passed, that depression sent her into a deeper state of dementia. One can kind of go in and out with the symptoms depending on their health, and she dipped further into her symptoms. She leveled up a little bit when the depression eased as time passed, but she never really got better. She was never able to recover fully. 

As a professional and somebody who grew up in a culture where the children care for their parents, I noticed there was no place for me to put my parents because my sister was married, had kids, and was living her life. My other sister was married, had young kids, and was also living her life. Neither [of them] stayed at home during the day. The dynamic of our culture had shifted, and Koreans were no longer in these [patriarchal] homes, where the woman was at home as the wife and taking care of the chidren, and the husband was away working. So back then, if something happened to your parents, you would bring them into your home. 

That was a changing dynamic. That was a shift in our culture and our generation. Now, women have more professional [backgrounds] and [contribute to] dual-income family households. And that’s something that [my siblings and I] were experiencing; we were all working professionally. We were in this position for the first time and agreed, “We need full-time care for our mother. What do we do now? What’s even out there?”

That’s when my journey began — when I started looking for available resources. So first, I saw that there were all these senior care facilities, in terms of residential. Most Asian parents — and most older people in general — do not want to live in a “home.” I’ve learned since that the [best] way to extend their health in their lifetime is to try to keep them as comfortable in their familiar space as long as possible. I’ve learned new ways to go about that. But at the time, the thought was, “We need to get them care. I can’t give her care, so I need to get her somewhere where she can get it.”

What we noticed is that all of those programs had incredible costs. In many of these residential facilities, [the costs] were starting anywhere from $1,000 as a monthly base for them to live if [emphasis added] they qualified for state financial assistance. Still, most of them cost much, much more than that. I knew [my mom] clearly didn’t want to move at that point. What are some other options? So, one important aspect of early-onset dementia is to keep them stimulated. As long as we keep them active and create opportunities for new dialogue in relationships, those things can extend their health and mitigate how dementia affects their lives.

Loneliness also contributes highly to that depression, but it’s hidden. It’s very secret, you know, and [Asian parents] don’t [sound the] alarm. Asian parents typically don’t like going to the doctor. They don’t like saying they need things; the last thing they want to do is ask their children.

It was always, ‘I don’t need anything; I’m fine, I’m fine.’ So I started looking at senior care facilities, or adult day- care facilities called Adult Day Health Care, and saw what was around in Koreatown, specifically in Korean because my mom never mastered English. She’s still [primarily] a Korean speaker. My father was the same; even though he did business, Korean was still his heart language.

I started to find what limited resources were out there for our aging parents. I started going to conferences. I even got a license to be a director for something that’s called an R.C.F.E. (Residential Care Facility for the Elderly). I thought, Okay, we’ll learn about this industry. Let me find out what’s actually happening, what’s required, and what these places look like. First, I got an administrator license. Then, somebody offered me a job to open an adult
daycare. As these things were happening in my life, these experiences made me think that maybe this was the right juncture and business venture to jump into. 

Prior to that, I was a Director of Residential Life, working with college residents and managing their housing program. This new role was still people and programming, so I jumped into it. That’s when I began to understand what Koreatown had to offer. The biggest thing I [learned] and am still learning about is the lack of resources for immigrant families regarding senior care. My generation grew up thinking we had to take care of our parents on our own. So, we didn’t plan for “senior care.” If you speak to a lot of people, for example, from Jewish or Western backgrounds, a lot of them have healthcare or senior care built into their life insurance, so those costs are going to be covered. 

That’s no longer the case. Senior care policies were no longer offered because seniors were living longer than before, and insurance companies were losing a lot of money. As I continued my search, I discovered a lack of resources that my mother could actually understand and participate in, and the ones out there were more like babysitting programs.

I don’t want to discount their program, and I don’t want to fault them because part of that is business. For four hours a day, you could take [seniors] to a center, and they’d either play bingo with them, sing songs with them, or let them sing karaoke. They’d give them breakfast and lunch, so they got two meals and [stayed] occupied. It gave them the opportunity to talk to and interact with other people and have supervision. It wasn’t the best, but I was okay with leaving her there safely while I was at work. It was all that was available.

With limited Korean resources, limited financial resources, and limited help as children supporting their parents, I realized that we were not educated and were way underprepared for the tidal wave of need coming regarding our parent care. It was twofold.

Lucy Hwang: Do you think there are any specific strengths and challenges in Koreatown’s elder residences that differ from those in the other elder residences you’ve visited?

The generation we’re talking about is still closely con- nected to cultural ties. There’s something about meeting those specific needs, not just as an older person, but in a way that ties in their culture, their history, the foods that they like, and the songs that they used to sing. Much of that is tied to language, and a lot of that time is tied to understanding how to relate.

Sometimes, there are a lot of similarities with immigrant families. But you’ll see that there are differences in how some of your school friends interact with their parents or grandparents. For example, I grew up with friends who called their parents by their first name — that would never happen in a Korean household. Or leaving partially eaten plates of food at the table — that would never happen in a Korean household. You ate what you were served and finished it.

Certain nuances come with understanding the culture, particularly with eldercare and especially if they’re experiencing dementia. You have to understand their childhood or youth to know how to meet them in their spaces, where they’re most comfortable, or where they’re now at peace. That’s one of the benefits of going to a place that recognizes the need for that type
of connection with their residences. But they’re very far and few in between. I had a lot of people asking me, ‘Well, where can I put them?’ And there were only two places that I would vouch for. At one of them, you could get some help financially; you still have to pay partially, but you could get some assistance if you are low-income. The other was private pay ($3,000 to 4,000 per month), but it was changing under new management. The third one would have only been for those in desperate situations. If you’re desperate, you can put them in there and know they would be supervised and looked after, but the programming was not very good.

But it’s hard to watch when your staffing and patient numbers are not at a good ratio. I went to check out the staff-to-patient ratio. When I was touring facilities, I saw an older man with his hand in an older lady’s shirt — because he just thinks he’s a young kid and likes to touch. So, he would just go in and reach, and nobody was supervising! So I said, “No, my mom’s not going to stay here.” But his actions weren’t malicious. It wasn’t dirty. It was just that he was being childlike, like a toddler. He did not know any better. He was going to his comfort place, but it was challenging to think it all through without judgment and with understanding. But that [staff-to-patient] ratio wasn’t there, which was one of the issues I saw in some lesser-staffed environments. So, all in all, there were only three [residences], and our aging Korean popula- tion is huge. They have senior housing, where they usually rent a one-bedroom apartment. The plus is that there are a bunch of seniors in the building. However, as far as “assisted living” facilities go, there were only three [when I was searching for a place for my mom].

Lucy Hwang: I like how you mentioned the cultural aspects that the elder residences need to curate, like activities and food.

And that goes for more than just Koreans. I think anybody who has a native heart language that’s not English [has these needs], especially when they start to get sick. You’re just more vulnerable. And when you’re not at the top of your health, when you get to that more vulnerable, needy place, you start to speak in that heart language.

I also speak some Spanish. So whenever I’m on a site, and I see an elderly Hispanic woman or man come up, you know there’s an attempt at communicating in English, but the minute I move into speaking Spanish, you can see the relief. Imagine you’re in a care facility and trying to communicate your needs, weaknesses, or vulnerabilities. That’s sometimes hard to do, but especially hard if it’s not in your heart language.

Ava McCollum: You touched on some personal experiences, analyzing what does and doesn’t work for certain elders. What other aspects of elder wellness merit further support and criticism, what you perceive to be working well and what could be improved? Every person is different, but finding something that might work for many people is a good approach. I would like your perspective.

So, we opened a senior adult care facility, which is considered an ADHC (Adult Day Health Care) program. But we didn’t want to call it daycare because most elders don’t want to be perceived as needing care, or at least like children and needing daycare. They [want to] live their lives. Imagine yourself, even as a junior [in high school] — you probably feel that when an elementary school kid comes up to you and you’re like, ‘What do you know? I’m 17. Like, come on,’ right?

Imagine somebody 60, 70, or 80 years old who has had a professional and personal life with all these other life experiences. And now you’re just told you can sit and play bingo or sit in a chair and do some exercises. These activities can be very elementary sometimes — a little too elementary.

One of the big things that was lacking was re-establishing their [sense of] purpose. The elderly [need] to have a greater purpose. There are so many things that we can learn from them. Their history is our living history that we get to experience and that we get to learn from. Some of them were professionals who practiced law, business, and all of that.

So why couldn’t they run part of the store? Why couldn’t they create a new garden and start small gardening businesses? Why weren’t we thinking [outside] the box? It was more like watching them, like a daycare, and treating them like children.

One of the things we wanted to do differently was stimulate them. We wanted to give them the opportunity to learn with classes about calligraphy and art history; we asked them what they wanted to do and where they wanted to go — whether it was excursions or different things. They also really wanted some independence. To be honest, that was one of the things that was difficult to balance between being safe, providing supervision where needed, and only having the model of what was already being done. We needed to try new things and keep learning.

So we created a membership program, like a club. You had to pay to join, so there’s some value. Asians kind of work like that. Like, ‘Oh, how much is it?’ The more expensive it is, the better they think it is sometimes. At the same time, though, they always want a bargain. It’s complicated, but it’s how we grew up. They want to feel like they’re not getting the cheap, free thing but that they’re getting the best thing for a good bargain.

We provided an environment where, yes, you had to commit, and you had to pay. [Being a part of this club] was by your choice and will, and then we provided life-building classes for them. A lot of them said that they have trouble with their phones. They wanted to learn how to chat with their grandchildren, use Instagram, and those types of things. They wanted to be relevant. They also wanted to be social, not just among each other. They wanted to learn technology, so [we had] computer classes, phone classes, and so forth.

All this was done to re-establish that they were still people of purpose, not just people we needed to watch and babysit, but that was the temptation. One of the challenges I experienced was encountering people stuck in that old bubble — “This is what works” — but it wasn’t building them up. And, you know, [we wanted to] bust them out of that bubble. We needed to ask ourselves what more we could do and not settle for the old ways. To do some- thing different took a lot of cultural shifts and changes. Many older people in the industry came to us and asked, ‘Why are you doing this? Nobody’s going to want to do this. Nobody’s going to want this.’ And so we got a lot of pushback from people in the industry. That part was interesting, but I think giving them purpose and
re-establishing that they are important human beings with things to contribute — that they’re not just people to put out to pasture — is crucial to always keep in mind. 

Mia Giambalvo: Did your professional experi- ences impact your personal experiences with aging care, your approach to aging care, or vice versa? Also, how did you take care of your parents and grandparents?

I did not grow up with any grandparents. They all died in the [Korean War] in the 1950s. A lot of elderly people passed away during the war. So, it’s very common to hear an immigrant story like mine.

I’m 47. I was born in ‘74. Most of us who emigrated from Korea during that time didn’t come with our grandparents. My nieces and nephews have experienced what it’s like to have grandparents, and they’re very fortunate, but I didn’t mind. 

The closest thing I had to a grandparent was an elderly white couple who lived two doors down: Grandma and Grandpa Lechlider. They were wonderful. She taught me how to bake, and he taught me how to garden, but I didn’t have [biological] grandparents.

As for my parents, my personal experiences definitely influenced my [personhood] and my profession. My professional experience before the aging sector was a lot about resident life for high school, international boarding school, and college-aged students. That experience naturally informed the angle that I took. 

As for my parents, going back to the personal experience I was sharing earlier, my father was in the hospital. I had one parent [my father] who was in the hospital, and I had another parent [my mother] who was dealing with early- onset dementia. During all this, I was a professional working full-time. There were other people in the same basket as me, and when I opened up the business, they started coming through the doors asking, ‘What do I do with my parent?’ I’ve got children [now] and can’t bring them home.’ It was clear they were overwhelmed. 

I didn’t have children, so my situation was a little different yet incredibly overwhelming. It was even harder for the spouse, daughter, or son of a senior adult to come in. They’ve got families of their own; they don’t know what to do in this situation. It was twofold in terms of working at the adult daycare. I wanted to provide programming for our seniors, but I also wanted to provide educational programming for the new generation that had to take care of seniors. This was an area that we were so unfamiliar with.

When you find a cohort of like-minded people, you can share your struggles and learn from each other. You can share resources. You can ask anyone. Most people are looking for any kind of resource in Koreatown. Korean families are so overwhelmed. They don’t know where to go. They don’t know where to look. There’s not a one-stop shop to be able to answer questions. You literally have to search, and that search is so broad and so difficult.

I wanted to hone in on some resources, be an informational hub, and provide respite care for the caretakers. One thing that people don’t understand is that the people caring for an elder with needs often get sick themselves. You can look at the data, but a lot of times, they pass away first. Between a husband and wife, the one who’s not suffering from dementia will often pass away first because they’re bearing the brunt and the burden of the responsibility without an outlet or anybody looking to care for them.

Because I felt that burden in my personal experience, I [made] sure that I brought that aspect into my professional life so that when I met with families, I acknowledged the season that they were in. I affirmed that it is difficult and, oftentimes, without the answers we’re looking for. [I also] assured them that we would provide a community they could be a part of and that they’re not alone in this journey. Our culture is very ... you know, when you grow up in a community, you often hear the term “tribe,” right? It’s like that.

Koreans oftentimes, for example, when I invite you to my house, I will say, “우리집,” which directly translates to “our house,” even though you don’t live with me. So it is very communal. The language, the culture — it’s all very communal.

But we don’t live like that here in Los Angeles or most places. So it was like, how do we re-establish that sense of community, that sense of “tribe,” given our circumstances? That’s a little of how my personal experiences played into how I carried out my professional aspirations. I never thought that I would ever open an adult daycare center. It didn’t last very long due to COVID and various issues, but I never thought it would ever be an adventure I would go on. 

It came about because somebody was opening one, and I said, “Hey, can you consider these things? Even like furniture and chairs, the types of books you have in there, and so on.” And he was like, ‘What are you doing?’ And I was like, “Oh, I’m at a boarding school, and this is not my thing, but I’m just saying if you’re going to provide this, these are some things you should know and look into.” He asked if I had ever thought about running one myself. And I responded, “No, that’s not for me. I’m not going to do that.” It’s funny how things work out. Obviously, I ended up doing it.

Eunice Shin: What do you hope for regarding your future care as an aging adult?

[I want to] go to an island beach house where I can just relax, and somebody will deliver the food I want [laughs]. What do I want? You know, my friends [and I] often talk about the idea of retiring together in a community. I think it goes back to the concept of a tribe. I grew up in America, so I consider myself 1.5 [generation], and I’ve been very influenced by Western ideas and perspectives.
But everything in my home was very Korean. So, I felt like I had one foot in each culture.

I don’t have any children, so I’m not necessarily leaning on the expectation of “It’s your responsibility to take care of me.” I have nieces and nephews with whom I sometimes slip that phrase in. But I think for me, I’d like to see our communities set up to be more affordable and communal, where it goes back to that small-town neighborhood, tribe, community-driven space, where we’re all looking out for each other.

If you look at certain movies and dramas from back in the day, if an elder from their community walked away, the neighbor would be like, ‘Oh, so and so’s mom, where are you going?’ They would be looking out as if they were family. They all knew each other as neighbors and took care of each other. We had each other’s backs. Now, we’re experiencing a season in our history here where things are very divided and compartmentalized. Sometimes it’s “me, me, me.” I’d like to return to a place where it’s about “we.” It’s about taking care of each other, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be in a Korean cultural environment, but where community members are there for one another. There’s a lot to be learned, as I see a lot of differences between kids who grew up around elders and those who didn’t. There’s something that gets missed without that relational dynamic.

So, even if it isn’t my grandmother, or even if I’m not an auntie or grandmother to somebody else’s child, I can still have that relationship if they’re part of the community — as I do with a lot of my friends and so on. A lot of them call me Auntie, and a lot of them will call me for something if they don’t want to talk to their parents about it. There’s a lot of beauty, significance, and support in that environment.

There are these things that are called 6Beds. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it. It’s an environment where some- body will set up a home with maybe six rooms. It’s not in a huge facility; it’s like a home. They’ll do programming with the seniors within the household. It generates finances, and there’s person-to-person care. It’s much more intimate, and it feels more like a family. Ideally, that would be great for [my friends and me]. My friends and I talk about it all the time. We want to get a big space and a couple of houses and grow old together in that environment. I don’t know how ideal that is, but being part of a community would be really nice.

Kimberly Espinosa: What is the general protocol for reporting and supporting elders after dealing with neglect from nurses and caregivers?

In general, there’s an ombudsman. Every state has one for senior care, and you can make a report to them. It’s their legal [duty] and professional role to investigate. However, that process takes a really long time. Similarly, suppose you know anybody trying to look into low-income resources, social services, assistance, and home health services (Individualized Home Supports). In that case, those processes take a long time because government offices are completely overwhelmed.

Eldercare is a tidal wave coming through, and we are not nearly as prepared as we need to be as a country. The type of activity or programming needed before they get into those facilities is so lacking that we’re in a tight spot.

If a report goes to the ombudsman and they do their research, it’s on record, and it’s a start. It depends on the parameters of the location where they’re at. If it’s a senior care facility, there’s usually a director you can speak to. All senior care facilities have checks and balances performed by their regulatory systems and licensing offices. Each program is required to stay up to date with all policies, but the larger, name-brand companies tend to do a little bit better.

The smaller ones, like 6Beds, go more by the wayside. But anytime you can report it in any way, shape, or form, it starts at least the ripple. From there, we can go further. [Be sure to] always take notes and annotate them; always making it known, like, “Hey, I tried to call an ombudsman. I made a report there and called the director.” You need to have everything written and annotated as best as possible.

That would be where to start. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of oversight of the day-to-day operations in these overcrowded facilities. I often tell families that you need to take ownership of it. And just because they’re at a location, don’t assume they’re being cared for. Check to see what their weight is on your own. Ask them what food they ate and check their bodies for sores, as sores are evidence of sitting in one place for a long time or not being washed or bathed properly.

Even when my father was in a recovery facility, I had to make sure all the time. He was never cleaned properly. So it can be difficult until you get to a place of trust and see evidence of them caring. Unfortunately, that responsibility — that burden — is really on the family if they can invest the time to do so. However, immediately reporting, annotating, and getting it down in written records is the first thing to do.

There are so many things to do. There are definitely more steps, but for us, especially with my certification, it was to communicate to the ombudsman first, and the ombudsman would go ahead and do their research. Sometimes, that just takes so long that, to be honest, it’s best to start annotating and looking into it yourself. I think our families know in our guts what’s going on and when some- thing is not right or is happening. Always trust your gut.

Jina Kang: I’d like to know if some of your early childhood as an immigrant and as the daughter of parents who are small business owners has shaped the way you care for elders currently.

I’m not in that industry currently [emphasis added]. But when I opened the business and was directly involved in the industry, I understood their plight better because I was the daughter of an immigrant. 

It wasn’t really until I was an adult when my dad passed away, that I realized the sacrifice that it took. One of the hardest things that I had gone through, or one of the “Aha!” moments, was when my dad passed, and we were packing up some of his things. I started finding all of these books. He had a ton of books, and when I realized what they were, I was shocked! Half of them were Bibles, but the majority of them were dictionaries, business dictionaries, and English conversation books. I looked over every single page, and I [now] have one of the books on my shelf. He read things like “Jack and Jill.” It was very basic English, and everything was rewritten in Korean. Then, in these dictionaries, his writing was all over them. As a young person, I did not realize the sacri- fice they made to come to the States.

Imagine you’re going to Germany, and nobody speaks English. Nobody speaks your mother tongue or any other language. They only speak German, and you take your kids and say, “We’re going to start a life here.” That’s essentially what they did. When I realized that even to that degree, like every business contract, everything they wrote, and everything they did, my dad had to look everything
up and re-read how to do this — from rental papers to insurance papers to bills. It didn’t come easily to them. He had to work for every single word to advance in a country that didn’t recognize his degree.

So when I understood the sacrifice that most of these immigrants made in coming [to the United States], I felt like each and every one of those parents that came into our care were my parents. I understood how they could feel like they were being tossed aside because I did that when I was young and didn’t give my parents credit for all that they did. It helped me give them the respect they de- served. It helped me instill more dignity in the program because I didn’t want to treat them as children because they weren’t. They had lived these incredible lives and had these incredible stories. I had so much to learn from them. 

It helped me stay teachable because who was I to say I was an expert in this? Not by any means. The truth is, they were experts in life because they survived and had gotten this far. Giving them an opportunity to be recognized was something that I wanted to provide them in that environment.

Katherine Kim: You said earlier that when a young person is around older people, you can see the difference between them and those who aren’t. Can you elaborate on that? I want to know what you see. You have a special kind of vision that I don’t have. What are you noticing?

Well, for one thing, patience levels. Children must be much more patient when dealing with elders. [Elders] speak slower, reach for things slower, and move slower. A lot of times, kids “want it now.” When they grow up with [elders], they understand their pace is different. They’re much more empathetic and give them the space to take the time they need. This is not mutually exclusive. There’s also general empathy toward other elderly people [apart from your family]. At the international boarding school where I worked, half of the students came from the States, and the other half were international students from different countries all over the world. I could tell which ones grew up around their grandparents. It’s the difference between running into an elevator in front of an elderly person and closing the door before they could get in, [versus] waiting and holding the door for them. It’s sitting on a bus and giving a seat to an elder, even though it wasn’t an elder section. There was much more empathy toward elders, [people with disabilities], and people who generally need extra care. There was less fear of aging. There are things that come with aging. Sometimes, older people look a little different; they move differently, say things differently, or don’t smell as nice. Kids who grew up around them aren’t as bothered by all those things because they have been around it all. They’re around people they love and who take care of them, so instead of all the issues, they tend to see the individual who showed love to them. If you have healthy relationships with your grandparents, you’ll know they’re huge vessels that want to pour love on their grandkids. Other times, elderly people may not share your blood but are still eager to bring love into your life. I just saw young people who had grown up with older people as much more patient, empathetic, compassionate, and generally more aware.One interesting story I heard from my friend was when her child was at a daycare next to a senior center. These two care centers would have playtime together. A lot of times, they would either draw or do different things together. While she was at a McDonald’s, there was a handicapped elder with a trach (tracheostomy tube), and her child went up and shared her Happy Meal toy. But kids who haven’t been around disabled elders would probably have said, ‘Oh, no, he smells. Ew, what’s that dripping from the tube? I don’t want to sit near there.’ But my friend’s child wasn’t fazed by any of the exteriors. All she saw was an older person, like someone she was used to playing with at the playground during daycare, and she wanted to share her toy. I think even as we grow up, it’s important that we know the value of learning history and life experience and that we don’t grow up in a bubble .

People around us have different experiences from which we can benefit. Then, if we take the time to listen, hear, and[learn], we will all be so much better for it.

Katherine Kim: Thank you so much,Sunny. It’s enlightening and valuable for our students to have this experience of speaking with someone who has so much knowledge of working with elders and has deeply reflected on it. As you know, all of our youth will be communicating with elders. Mia works at an elder facility herself. Jina works at the Holocaust Museum. So we already have youth who are interacting with elders in multiple ways. I just went to an intergenerational workshop yesterday, and the founder of this intergenerational program talked about this. This was such an interesting anecdote. He said, ‘Our society has done a remarkable job of segregating age groups, right?’ We have preschool, we have school, we have college, and we have elder homes. We’ve just separated people, right? And now, we’ll see that this separation of ages in our society is dysfunctional. We’re going to have like five times the elderly population because we’re living so much longer with medicine. We haven’t figured it out, but we’ve created a problem. And now this population is going to be so much bigger. So that’s some of what we are here to discuss. I just wanted to add on and truly thank you for being here. It was so interesting and inspiring to hear what you had to say.

Oh, thank you, thank you. This came out of the blue. I just want you to know that you guys have a unique perspective at this point in history [the COVID-19 pandemic] — coming out of what we did and experienced. Not only have you dealt with your own [season], but now you’ve tapped into a new, different season. As you talk to our seniors, you have the tools to educate and share history with the next generation. I know it’s an assignment or something that you need to complete, butI hope you understand this project’s importance. I was never able to do something like this, so when Katherine [KSP Program Director] told me about this project, I really wanted to do it because I wanted to get these stories written down. You guys are going to produce something inspiring. No matter how simple the story is to someone, it will be inspiring — if anything, inspiring the person being told that their story is important enough to be heard and archived. I just want to thank you guys for taking the time to do that. I know there are a lot of other things you guys could be doing — a lot of things that I’m sure you could do with your friends that might seem more fun. But I hope that you have a good time doing this. Also, know you’re empowered by it, knowing you guys have some amazing tools. Just by the look of all of you guys and all your questions, I am so impressed by you.Thank you for giving me this opportunity.