GLOWNY CLASSIC presents
"MOTHER OF PEARL".

Growing up, our living room was dominated by these grand mother-of-pearl cabinets—jagaejang—gifted by my grandfather to my mother when she married my father.

They symbolized wealth, prosperity, and the hope for a lasting marriage.

Looking back, I realize I was much like those cabinets, which still sit in our living room today. Their heavy black lacquer, contrasted with the shimmering pearl inlays, felt painfully out of place in a small New York apartment. For years, I secretly wished my parents would replace them with something more modern, more Western—something that blended in.

But over time, that longing changed.

I began noticing the intricate details, the patience in their craftsmanship, and the history they quietly carried. What I once saw as awkward and outdated, I began to see as beautiful.

As I prepare to become a mother, I think about how I moved through childhood in New York—constantly trying to conform to the world around me, believing that unfamiliarity or difference would lead to disconnection. But I’ve come to understand that those very things are often what define us most.

The way I came to see those cabinets mirrors the way I came to see myself as a Korean-American woman: expansive, layered, and shaped by both heritage and hardship. I once feared motherhood for the same reason I feared standing out—that change would make me unrecognizable, that I would no longer feel confident in my own skin.

Instead, carrying this child has made me feel honored.

Honored by where I come from.
Honored by what my body can do.
Honored by the woman I am becoming.