Doon stood at the school gate, his small hands clutching the straps of his faded backpack. Around him, children laughed and chattered in a language he couldn't understand. The vibrant schoolyard felt overwhelming—so full of life yet so foreign. He felt like an outsider, a solitary figure in a sea of strangers.
Inside the classroom, his teacher introduced him with a warm smile. "This is Doon," she said in Korean, gesturing toward him. Though her tone was kind, the words were meaningless to him, a jumble of unfamiliar sounds. The other children stared, some curious, others indifferent, but Doon didn't know how to react. He simply nodded, his face a mask of quiet determination.
The day was a blur. Instructions were given, but Doon couldn't follow. He watched the other students, trying to mimic their actions—writing when they wrote, standing when they stood. Lunchtime came, and he sat alone, poking at the unfamiliar food on his tray. Though he felt isolated, he wasn't discouraged. He was used to adapting, to finding his way.
When the final bell rang, Doon hurried home, eager to escape the confusion of the day. As he opened the door to their tiny apartment, his mother greeted him with tired eyes but a smile. She knelt down, her hands resting on his shoulders.
"Doon, I got a job," she said in a mix of broken Korean and their native language, her voice firm but loving. "I'll be working long hours now. When you come home from school, take care of Loom, okay?"
Doon nodded, understanding the gravity of her words even if he couldn't fully grasp their implications. At just eight years old, he was being asked to step into a role far beyond his years, but he didn't complain. He only wanted to ease the burden on his mother.
As days turned into weeks, Doon began to find his rhythm. Though he still couldn't understand much at school, he picked up on small gestures and patterns. At home, he helped Loom with her meals, read to her from picture books, and tucked her into bed while their mother worked late into the night.
Life was difficult, but it was also full of small victories: a kind smile from a classmate, a new word learned, a moment of laughter shared with Loom. Slowly, the threads of their new life began to weave together, and Doon's resilience became the quiet foundation of their little family's journey in South Korea.