Helen Recorvits, illustrated by Gabi Swiatkowska,
My Name is Yoon.
Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2002

Everything is different in America for little Yoon, who has recently arrived from Korea. How can she be herself in this country? Even her own name — which means “Shining Wisdom” — looks strange to her when it's written in English. “My name looks happy in Korean,” she says. “The symbol dance together.”

At school, instead of writing her name when she is instructed to, Yoon writes a word that has captured her imagination: CAT. Her teacher doesn't understand. “So you are CAT?” she asks. At home, Yoon looks sadly out the window and watches a lone robin hopping on the ground. Yoon is also alone, she has no friends, and she feels that no one likes her. She cheers herself up by creating a drawing of the bird to give to her teacher.

When Yoon substitutes BIRD for her own name during the next day's writing lesson, her teacher is again puzzled. “So you are BIRD?” Although Yoon can't speak English, she thinks of a way to reach out: she shows the teacher her special robin drawing, pats first her own red dress and then the red on the robin. Her teacher smiles.

Yoon's loneliness begins to give way. At recess, a classmate gives her a treat, labeled “cupcake” on its wrapper. Yoon responds to this gesture of friendship by joining in her classmate's giggles — and choosing CUPCAKE as the word she writes that day. When her teacher shares in her pleasure, Yoon begins to feel that perhaps “America will be a good home.” Ready to declare her name, the next day at school she proudly writes YOON.

Helen Recorvits offers a unique perspective on a child's heartfelt pain in adjusting to new surroundings. Illustrator Gabi Swiatkowska's paintings give solidity to the inner life of this resilient lovable little girl, with her straight back bangs and eyes full of determination. The generous splashes of warm reds and yellows in the paintings of Yoon and other children capture their verve and love of life. The muted colors of the vast open spaces both inside and outside suggest the loneliness that Yoon experiences in her new country, while also making room for her dreamy escapes. Swiatkowska accentuates the whimsy and humor in the story's resolution: Yoon imagines herself as a cupcake, flying through the classroom, amazing and delighting the other children.

Little Yoon is a protagonist who defies the stereotype of compliant and passive Asian girls. Her will and self-assurance are revealed when she refuses to follow the repeated directions from her teachers. Her actions may seem unlikely when the cultural backdrop is considered: would an immigrant Korean child, male or female, purposely disobey a teacher? If the idealist in us sees Yoon as a bright spirit similar to the little bird she draws, liberated from the confines of culture and society, perhaps the answer is yes.

Melissa Lee Wright
Spring 2003