30-Something Working Moms and 'Stolen Poverty'

A peculiar debate was witnessed at the entrance of a building in a back alley behind Seoul's Seobu Station. The name of a newly opened café there is 'homeless.' A resident of the neighborhood, who identified themselves as such, had posted a note reading, 'Do not use others' poverty as a signboard.' As is known, this area is one of the neighborhoods in Seoul with the highest concentration of homeless people, where those seeking free meals line up daily. Below that note, the owner had attached an A4 sheet in rebuttal: 'There's Jokbok Tteokbokki and Babo Nakji, right? Are those glorifying gangsters or mocking the disabled? For us, 'homeless' does not refer to people without homes, but to those who live without being bound by affiliations, valuing their tastes and lifestyles.' It was a romantic explanation that wrapped the deficiencies and survival struggles of the vulnerable in the guise of 'freedom' and 'lifestyle.' While overshadowed by the 'Oppa Lobby' and the 'Basic Income Party,' I believe there is a more fundamental issue in this personnel shakeup: the thick-faced audacity of those who hijack others' arduous lives to make them their own trophies. I recall the moment when Rep. Yong Hye-in was nominated as the candidate for Minister of Gender Equality and Family and referred to herself as a '30-something working mom.' What a convenient identity. In 2021, she entered the National Assembly carrying her two-month-old child, earning media spotlight and the political brand of 'commuting with a child.' However, a junior colleague, also a 30-something working mom, countered: 'If I were to bring my two-month-old to the office, how would my manager, colleagues, and juniors look at me?' For a member of Congress, such a flashy event is a spectacle that draws attention, but for an ordinary worker, it is a risk that threatens survival. The privileged class, who once demanded the use of an airport VIP lounge during a family trip, suddenly transforms into a 'hardworking mom' at such moments. When those who hold privilege casually borrow the hardships of ordinary women and pin them as medals, the narrative of working moms devolves into a politician's stylish signboard. One might ask why I am so prickly over the phrase '30-something working mom.' Compared to those who exploited the pain of comfort women to make a quantum leap, or those who mock the common people with 'crayfish, carp, and frogs' while pretending to be humble, or those who, while publicly claiming that 'how we treat the vulnerable reflects national dignity,' privately assign toilet repairs at their homes to aides—aren't these worse? The problem is that such behavior is not an isolated deviation by individuals but a 'planned hypocrisy' shared by many of them. As I finished writing this, I heard the news that Rep. Yong's husband was re-elected as the top executive of the Basic Income Party. A veritable 'fireworks display of hypocrisy.' I am a reader who is always struck by the foresight of writer Park Wan-suh. In her novel *Stolen Poverty*, a wealthy college student consumes poverty as a colorful experience and taste before returning to his original affluence. The protagonist, witnessing this, feels deep disillusionment, as if even his own miserable life had been stolen. Look at Gwangju, where those who shed blood and those who reap the fruits are separate. How is this deceptive monopoly of narratives any different from the wealthy scion who stole poverty to make it his own? I believe the 'homeless' café and the politicians' identity masks are perfect reenactments of this tragedy. The arduous homelessness behind Seobu Station is redefined as a commercial brand of 'free life,' while the privileges of a member of Congress are hidden, and only the hardships of an office worker are borrowed. In this brazen theft of lives, the era's true vulnerable and common people are robbed of the last language to describe their own lives.