Out of all the Korean pop groups, I relate lyrically to Ateez the most. Despite coming from a small company and being less popular in South Korea than in Western countries, Ateez shatters social barriers and brings people of various backgrounds together. Their work ethic and musical influence inspire me to stay resilient in tricky situations. As the oldest of my siblings and a future first-generation college student, I aspire to be a role model for my younger siblings. I often struggle with academic pressure, anxiety, and perfectionism from wanting to show my siblings that they can accomplish anything, no matter the difficulty. Despite my battles, Ateez’s music has always been available to me in times of emotional distress and low self-esteem. A select R&B song called “Mist” from the TREASURE EP.FIN: All to Action album is a song I remember listening to when I was having a moment where my tears would not stop streaming down my face. I felt like a failure at the time because it was my first time receiving two Fs on my progress report in my math and physics classes, even though I was staying after school for tutoring every day. Although this song is in Korean, the chorus line continues to positively impact me and give me the reassurance that any moment will pass, good or bad. In the chorus, Wooyoung and San sing, “So please / Tell me it’s all right / In this uneasy mist / Tell me, it’s all just a moment” (1:00-1:14). Following this day, it became my favorite song from Ateez because this message alone has successfully carried me through later academic challenges. While taking college-level courses for a select summer program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, I was immediately discouraged by the pace of my calculus class because I had not taken a pre-calculus class beforehand. Remembering the message from Ateez’s “Mist,” it was relieving to know that this feeling of not understanding is temporary and that through consistent studying, I will pass. Globally, Ateez is not only loved by Atiny, Ateez fans, because of their music, but because of what they stand for. African American hip-hop and R&B culture have often been appropriated, disrespected, and mocked by the K-pop community. As a Black stan, it is often disheartening to love a group, but find out that they make fun of Afro-centric features, use the N-word, wear box braids, or mimic songs by Black artists without giving proper credit. Ateez is one of the few groups that is seen interacting and being respectful towards Black fans and their culture. They also have a welcoming influence on LGBTQ+ fans, for example when they host fan calls, all members are supportive when Atiny explains to them they are a part of the LGBTQ+ community. The leader of the group, Hongjoong, has openly stated that he gets inspiration from these fans and one day wants to create a gender-neutral clothing line. Ateez is my safe space because they are a source of assurance and a symbol of persistence when I am not feeling like my best self. This group’s reassuring lyrics inspire me to stay consistent and confident in my journey throughout college and my dream of becoming a doctor regardless of failure. Not only do they assist me with working through my mental health struggles, but they are also respectful of my culture and sexuality. It is vital for idols like Ateez to continue spreading positive social messages by bringing attention to mental wellness, cultural appreciation, and gender equality.

Growing up, it was hard to not be ashamed of my mom. She drove this smoky, busted-up light blue van to and from picking me up from school. It was rusting all around the bottom of the car and it had this pungent fume from the toxic gas it released. In her eyes, it was a blessing because when I was younger, we did not have the luxury of owning a car, but rather we took the bus everywhere. However, when I was younger, I did not feel embarrassed because taking the bus was like going on a new adventure. Middle school was a different story, though. I had new friends and wanted to start hanging out, preferably at their house. I decided to mask my situation and pretend. My mom has missed every one of my school plays, talent shows, and about any school event I invited her to. By this time around the sixth grade, we had lost the raggedy van for some unknown reason and my mom could never get a consistent ride to these events. I started to despise her, and wondered why she was the way she was. Although I had other family members who supported me, I just wished for an ordinary mom like everyone else. From elementary to middle school, I attended an Arab school. It was apparent that I was unwanted in this school, every Muslim boy I liked rejected me. We did not celebrate Black History Month, and the kids said “nigga” more than any Black person I have ever known. Many girls were fascinated with my hair, too. They would often pet my short, curly afro and say “Wow, how do you get your hair like this?” My self-confidence during this time completely diminished, and I would go to sleep every night praying I was white with long, flowing hair. I hated being Black, I hated my school, and I hated my life. My dad, whom I did not live with, was the person I spoke to about how I was feeling. He told me to own who I am, and where I came from, and to not be ashamed of my mom because she’s had a difficult life. After our long, heartfelt conversation, I started to see my mom in a different light. No, she was never financially stable, but she loved me like no other and tried her hardest for me. When it was time for me to search for a high school, I immediately applied for the most prestigious Black school in Detroit, Cass Technical High School. I was eager to find myself and be around those who looked like me with the same hunger for accomplishment as me. I am now a junior at Cass Tech, and I have found lifelong friends, strong bonds with my teachers, a healing relationship with my mom, and a new sense of comfortability in my gorgeous, melanated skin. Attending a Detroit Public School, I see the difference between funded schools and Detroit’s low-income schools. I also see the plethora of abandoned buildings in Detroit and the mass of homeless people that beg for money or even a lick of food. When I become a successful adult, I want to donate to the lesser named schools in Detroit and transform an abandoned building into a nice homeless home, welcome for anyone struggling. I can start now by doing “back-to-school” drives during the summer. In honor of my mom experiencing homelessness, I would also like to do pad drives and gift baskets for women who struggle to have access to feminine goods.