Photo by Mark Edward Harris/KoreAm
Editor’s Note, as it appears in KoreAm‘s August/September print magazine, which features cover man Shin-Soo Choo of the Texas Rangers:
Hello, it’s been a while since we last saw each other. You may have noticed that this issue is arriving a bit later than usual. Or maybe you didn’t notice, since, for 24 years, KoreAm has been on “Korean” time, when it comes to its publication schedule; that is, the August issue would arrive in August—not in July, as most monthly magazines do—and it wasn’t even early August, but closer to the middle of the month.
Well, there’s a reason you, dear subscribers, are getting this issue even later than that. KoreAm is converting from a monthly magazine to a bimonthly, publishing every two months. In your hands is the August/September issue, and the next will be the October/November issue, and so on. Your subscription will still give you 12 issues, but they will be spread out over two years, instead of one.
We apologize for the sudden notice, but the news was rather sudden for us, too.
It’s not hard to figure out that it’s a sign of the times, in this digital age. But, even before the advent of blogs, Facebook and Twitter, it’s not like KoreAm was a profitable operation. I used to joke that we out-nonprofit the nonprofits with our lack of profits. It’s actually no laughing matter, but we laugh to keep from crying.
The truth is this “little magazine that could,” as I like to call it, has been on this uphill journey for just about all of its existence, outliving Asian American magazines like A. and Yolk. But we didn’t outlive them by figuring out a successful business model for Asian American magazines; we did it by, well, lots of sacrifices. Just ask my publisher—he has the scars to prove it. Past editors and staffers, too.
And, yet, what keeps us keeping on? A big part of it is the knowledge that this isn’t just any small company. Our existence is so tied to you, the community we serve—and that’s ultimately what’s been keeping that light switch on all these years. That responsibility. That larger mission. That connection.
Because it’s not about us, or rather, it is about us, but the collective us. This magazine, after all, is trying to reflect ourselves, in all our breadth, complexity and diversity. It strives to track our journey in this country, and connect all the dots from that peninsula across the Pacific to this multicultural, multiethnic nation of immigrants. We’re trying to live up to our role as the first drafters of Korean American history and as the interpreters who bridge Korean and American cultures.
So, yes, we’re coming out less frequently. Yes, we’re facing financial challenges. But, yes, we’re also still fighting for a KoreAm presence in our vast media landscape because we still believe this form of alternative media is needed—perhaps more so now, as it’s getting harder to find the platforms that allow us the quieter, reflective moments amid all the noise technology generates ubiquitously. We believe there are enough of you who value this magazine, who feel like what we present in these pages provides some added benefit to your life.
As I mentioned earlier, I often characterize KoreAm as that “little magazine that could.” We all rejoiced when “the little engine that could” from the popular children’s book pulled the heavy train over that impossible mountain, with hard work, persistence and a sense of optimism. (On that note, how perfect is it that Shin-Soo Choo, a regular practitioner of all those qualities, graces this month’s cover?) I’m realizing KoreAm has many mountains to climb, not just one. And the thing is, it can’t be a lone endeavor. If this is a magazine that’s community-driven, at least by way of its mission and guiding philosophy, then it’s going to take a community to scale those mountains.
In the coming months, you’ll be hearing more about the nonprofit organization that our company has started, called the KoreAm Audrey Foundation (incorporating the name of our Asian American sister magazine, Audrey), and how you can show your support in concrete ways. I hope you think it a worthy cause. As someone who has been reading KoreAm since first receiving it in my UCLA dorm mailbox in the early 1990s (back when it was in newsprint format), I certainly do. Even as the workload here seems continually overwhelming, I always return to a place of gratitude when I think of this magazine—and what it’s given me all these years. My life is richer for it, not in the pocketbook, but in a deeper, nuanced understanding of who Korean America is, and even who I am and where I come from. It’s personal, and I’m hoping it feels that way for you, too.
On a final note, if you do miss reading KoreAm stories monthly, please do check out our website, charactermedia.com, where we hope to post more original stories, now that we’re publishing less frequently. And, as always, feel free to email me at Julie@charactermedia.com, if you’d like to share your thoughts.
–Julie Ha, Editor-in-Chief
This article was published in the August/September 2014 issue of KoreAm. Subscribe today! To purchase a single issue copy of the Aug./Sept. issue, click the “Buy Now” button below. (U.S. customers only. Expect delivery in 5-7 business days).
