Is This Grief Only Ours? Remembering Han and the Trauma We Inherited
- Grace H V
- May 22
- 3 min read
Updated: May 29
I didn’t grow up knowing what Han was.But I felt it.
A heaviness in my father’s silences. A sharpness in his sadness. Whispers between adults that ended when we walked into the room. I carried questions I didn’t know how to ask.
It wasn’t until much later that I learned this feeling had a name.A Korean name.One that’s said to be impossible to translate—but unmistakable to those who’ve known it.
Want to read more?
Subscribe to thekoreandiaspora.com to keep reading this exclusive post.
