Gyopo, Jeong, and Gieok: Reflections on Identity and Belonging
For so much of our lives, we move through spaces as projections seen through others’ eyes before we see ourselves. These photos explore three Korean words: gyopo, jeong, and gieok—as reflections on identity, belonging, and the body as language.
For so much of our lives, we move through spaces as projections.
Perception becomes reality, but it’s often just a fragment of truth.
I’ve probably lived a thousand lives in the minds of others' projections.
Some aligned with my truth.
And many likely not…refractions of who I am and the emotions I hold.
Today, the untruths don’t cling as tightly.
But when I was younger, they stuck, like warm sap pressed against tender skin.
I’ve been called, or perceived to be, many things. Some true, some not:
Crybaby
ESL Learner
Immigrant
Love
Chinese
Joy
Communist
Harmony
Japanese
Kung Fu Master
Young Asian Wife
Happy
Asian American
Helper
Korean
Sore Loser
The list goes on and continues to grow. When I moved to Korea in 2008, I was given a new name, “Gyopo” which generally means: an ethnic Korean who lives abroad, a person of the diaspora.
It’s the first time this word entered my lexicon.
Before I could invite it into my identity, it was already projected onto me, prompted by the way I spoke Korean, the way I dressed, and even how I ate my food. Gyopo didn’t arrive as a term of endearment or source of pride. It was often spoken with almost a small spit at the end, a subtle expulsion.
I remember sitting in the dark corner of a cafe when a group of friends warned me to be careful in some neighborhood. “It’s a little better now,” they said. “But still, you never know.” One had a friend who had been hit with a rock, another’s bike, kicked down.
Projections begin with a gaze and the viewer's subjective knowing, which sometimes becomes truth for the one being seen.
But as storytellers, we also have the power to reframe the subjective truth.
To breathe new life and meaning into what was once imposed.
To turn projection into reflection.
In this photo series, I projected three Korean words onto my body
교포 (gyopo)
정 (jeong)
기억 (gieok)
Gyopo is the word that first named my place in the Korean diaspora, an identity projected onto me before I ever chose it for myself.
Jeong is a feeling I learned, felt, and experienced in Korea. It’s an untranslatable bond that ties people and experiences together. Yet, as a gyopo, my understanding of jeong is both real and incomplete.
And gieok, meaning memory, speaks to what I know, what is passed down, and what is in the process of being reclaimed.
Each word reveals how language can both name and transform identity, and how projection can become part of deep reflection, leading us to a deeper knowing of self.
