[One Sip of a Book] The Sea That National Assembly Member Kim Ye-ji Dreams Of

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"Just Kim Yeji walking around the National Assembly with her guide dog is already doing something significant." When Representative Kim Yeji heard this, she felt a flood of emotions. It was during her first meeting with the lawmaker who proposed her as a proportional representation member of the National Assembly. She wondered if she was merely a figure for image-making or a token to fill a quota.

However, Kim Yeji did not live a life of compliance. She believed what was wrong was wrong, confronted challenges head-on, and took on challenges when she could. When Kim Yeji was pursuing music, studying abroad, or entering the National Assembly, many around her were worried. She believes they were all concerned out of good intentions. But she opposed those worries with all her might.

This is a piece reflecting the thoughts of Representative Kim Yeji, who believes in "breaking the fishbowl and going to the sea." She candidly shares her thoughts on life, disability, human rights, politics, and community. Kim Yeji is resilient. When people ask if it is uncomfortable and difficult not to see at all, she says everyone lives each day facing their own pain and suffering.

Kim Yeji is a pianist who was admitted as the top student in the general admission of the Piano Department at Sookmyung Women's University, earned a master's degree in piano at the Peabody Conservatory of Johns Hopkins University in the U.S., and obtained a doctorate in piano performance and pedagogy at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. She is also an athlete who won a silver medal in the women's cross-country skiing category and a bronze medal in biathlon at the 2020 National Disabled Winter Sports Competition. Furthermore, she is South Korea's first female visually impaired member of the National Assembly.

I still live with the identity of a pianist. (Omitted) Whatever piece I play as a pianist, it becomes a performance unique to me, Kim Yeji. The same piece can vary greatly depending on who plays it. No matter what piece I choose, I can perform it with my own subjective color and uniqueness. Perhaps this is true for everything in the world. This is the most important truth that piano has taught me. (pp. 63-64, Piano Is My)

My mother once said to me when I was in middle school, "If you die, I die too." She was probably overwhelmed by the weight of raising a disabled child and exploded at some point. At that time, I received an eternal emotional scar like a scratch on my knee and told her, "My life is mine, and I will decide its end." (Omitted) Around me, there is no disabled person who has not heard their parents say "If you die, I die too." Almost all disabled people have similar experiences. In such matters, one must never adopt the perspective of "What else could parents do?" That is completely wrong. The parents' heartfelt feelings are heartfelt feelings, but murder is murder. Under no circumstances should murder be a subject of 'understanding' or 'empathy.' First of all, terms like 'joint suicide' must disappear as soon as possible. (pp. 81-82, The Cruel Words "What Else Could They Do?")

On July 17, 2023, at the Constitution Day celebration, I performed Schumann's "Widmung (Dedication)." The music director originally suggested a different piece, but I persuaded him to select this one. (Omitted) This song was dedicated by Schumann to his beloved Clara and was originally a song with lyrics. The lyrics are very heartfelt: "You are my soul, you are my heart, you are my joy, oh, you are my pain..." (Omitted) Just as Clara was to Schumann, if the people who come to the legislature as representatives of the people are not everything to the people, then what is everything? Shouldn't we be able to say, "The people are my everything"? (pp. 117-118, Who Is My Clara?)

More than 90% of disabled students in the U.S. attend some or all classes in general education classrooms. In other words, there is no system of 'inclusion' per se, but rather no system of 'exclusion.' Not only the U.S., but most developed countries are the same. Many countries have disabled and non-disabled children mixed together in classes. Why is that? Because if separation begins in school, separation, isolation, and exclusion will occur throughout the entire life cycle of social members. (pp. 140-141, Schools Matter)

Refined language is the foundation of mutual trust. Moreover, it is neglect of duty for politicians representing the people to use such language. Such words lower the level and dignity of politics. (p. 164, Why Use Vulgar Language)

"Saying you know what you know, and saying you don't know what you don't know." It may seem easy, but this might be the hardest thing for everyone to practice in their lives. When I think about why Korean politics has become such a rude and shameless space, this phrase comes to mind first. Earlier, I said this space seems addicted to the attitude of "The problem is that you don't know." Pointing fingers at others saying "You don't know" presupposes "I know." Yes. I often find arrogance in that attitude, thinking "I know everything." Perhaps because they achieved early success and received much praise for their intelligence, those steeped in arrogance enjoy using harsh and sharp language and assert things without any doubt that they might be wrong. They have no caution or reflective attitude that "I might not know everything" in this complex world created by many people. (pp. 178-179, To Say You Don't Know What You Don't Know)

It is common to flaunt one's presence with provocative words to rally supporters, feign empathy for the difficulties of seemingly large groups, and stigmatize relatively vulnerable groups. Then, hateful language is blatantly expressed online, and the media reports these provocative and violent words without moderation. Politicians, who must be elected by gaining votes, are reluctant to mediate. Exercising reasonable balance does not attract much attention. For the sake of our community, this must not continue. (pp. 180-181, The Trigger Called Demonization)

If I had to distinguish between the theory of innate goodness and innate evil, I tend to believe in innate evil. (Omitted) However, even I know how much I am influenced by those around me and how precious the small and delicate consideration we show each other is. (Omitted) Humans are inherently solitary beings, but we also closely influence each other. Through this exchange, we can move toward a better and more altruistic place. It is clear that humans have evil and animalistic seeds, but we can overcome them. Even believing in innate evil, I do not think humans are doomed to remain evil beings. (pp. 224-226, I Believe in Innate Evil)