“…One of the Korean’s favorite college memories is this: The Korean was friends with a charismatic deaf person who ended up serving as the Executive Vice President of the student government that oversees over 30,000 students. His friend was such a socially adept smooth talker that, other than the hearing aid on his ears and his pitchless voice typical of a deaf person, the Korean hardly noticed that his friend was much different from him.
One day, the Korean went to the beach with his friends. After dark, we set a bonfire, sat around it and talked. Because the fire was hot on his face, the Korean spoke with his two hands cupped around the lower part of his face, without thinking much about it. But whenever the Korean talked, the Korean’s friend waved his hand at the Korean, as if he was brushing something aside. The Korean did not understand. After a few seconds, finally another friend explained: ‘Justin can’t read your lips if you cover your face like that.’
It was a minor episode at the time, but somehow it stayed in the Korean’s mind. It was such a little thing that the Korean himself did not even perceive, but that little thing blocked out the entire communication for Justin. You would think that someone who moved from one country to another at age 16 would be able to appreciate the differences in radically different people. But the moment that stays with the Korean’s head had nothing to do with his experience of adjusting wholesale to a completely different culture. It had to do with his experience of something that was nearly imperceptible at the time but somehow resonated greater and greater until it became a personal philosophy-defining moment.”