In twenty-six years of making this magazine, I have sat across from more politicians than I can count. Not once did I ask about politics. That was Mom&i’s promise. Politics sees a person as a “seat”; we see a person as a person. That difference is the reason this magazine has lasted twenty-six years.
This spring, I sat across from Mayor Paul Kim in our Fort Lee studio. A small city — but the most Korean city in America: Palisades Park. I wanted to meet him not because he is a mayor, but because I was curious what kind of person he is living as, inside that seat. This is the portrait of a mayor. But it is also the portrait of a man remaking his own family.
THE LIGHT IN THE STUDIO
Early-May afternoon sun came slanting in through the Fort Lee studio windows. The moment Mayor Paul Kim stepped in, the room grew a little heavier — less the entrance of a politician than of a man who has passed through a long stretch of time. He took the center seat, posture straight, a small fatigue on his shoulders. Two people settled on either side of him: Justin Kang and Lucy Yang.
My first words were these: “Today is not a political interview.” Only then did his face ease. He laughed, briefly — he had come knowing this magazine’s promise.
A LONG STAYING
Paul Kim came to New Jersey in 1991. “I came for my family. Korea was comfortable — good English, friends. But the moment I arrived: is this the America I imagined? That doubt set in.” He worked at a dry cleaner’s, getting through each day with gestures. He did not run from the fear. He held it, and stepped forward one step a day. Those footsteps gathered — and became a city.
Thirty-four years passed here. But the word he reached for most was not “mayor.” It was “family.” Soon after his wedding, something happened to his wife’s health, and after a single difficult decision the two could not have children. “We thought about adoption. But back then I was too busy out in the world. I’m still sorry for that.”
“When no one recognized me, Palisades Park took me in. That’s what I want to repay.”
“Because I have no children — I think of all the kids in this town as mine. Think of it that way and you’re not lonely.”
This single line was not a politician’s answer but a man’s confession — the center of gravity of the whole interview. He sends small support when local students graduate, fills a seat at community events, never misses the elders’ gatherings. A city is not an abstract idea. It is the faces met each day, and the small responsibility one man chooses for them.
THE WORK OF EVERY DAWN
His day begins with email. He gave residents the mayor’s personal address, and every morning answers the ones no one else could. “I’m a public servant. A servant of the residents. I can’t not reply.” Not “I serve,” not “I devote” — simply, “I have to.”
He made one thing clear: a single mayor does not decide all of a city’s affairs. “An American mayor is different. The six council members are stronger. The mayor needs four of six to agree before anything moves.” Politicians rarely state the limits of their own power. Over two years, Palisades Park received more than three million dollars in grants. “Why did we receive it first? They’re watching from outside. Pal-Park is starting to change.” But the line he said most firmly was about his own limits: “We can’t clap with one hand. You need the building owners to clap with you — only then does it make a sound.”
THE TWO HE CHOSE
Justin Kang came to America at eighteen, forty years in New Jersey. “Honestly, I’m not a real-estate expert. I came back to it for my kids’ tuition.” But when he spoke of his children — one a doctor, one a lawyer — his face brightened. “What really matters is how good an influence they were, how many they made laugh.” Behind his run was his wife’s answer: “Don’t take sponsors. Do it with our money.” He let two collector’s watches go. “Winning, losing — the voters decide. But I’ve already half succeeded. Because I ran a clean campaign.”
Lucy Yang came in 2017, from advertising in Manhattan, no political experience. The person who appeared most in her story was her ninety-two-year-old mother. “The neighbors just open the back door and come in. They cook and bring food. Because my mother can’t hear. You don’t see it in Korea. Only here, in Pal-Park.” She had planned to leave, but changed her mind. On her first day in the new house she planted an apple tree — the tree only those who stay plant.
LAST HOPE
The deeper the interview went, the more his language gathered into one phrase: “last hope.” “Pal-Park is the last hope of us Korean people. It shows other peoples how good it is to live alongside Koreans.” “How good a place Pal-Park is — honestly, only Koreans don’t know. Outsiders all know.” The other name for what he does each day was: not forgetting.
THE LAST LIGHT OF THE DAY
As the interview closed, I asked for a last word. “Whoever wins, whoever loses — please, keep our dream alive. This is the last hope. A town where 60% are Koreans living together — we won’t have such a place again.” As they stepped close for the last photo, Paul Kim said quietly: “Come closer. Closer.” That was the last line of the day. And perhaps the line he casts at a city every day. Paul Kim was a mayor who never once said “I did this.” A mayor who opens email every dawn. A mayor who calls an entire city his family. So long as he stays in that seat — a city does not forget.
26년 동안 잡지를 만들어 오면서, 나는 셀 수 없이 많은 정치인의 자리에 앉아 보았다. 한 번도 정치를 묻지 않았다. 그게 Mom&i의 약속이었다. 정치는 한 사람을 ‘자리’로 보고, 우리는 한 사람을 ‘사람’으로 본다. 이 글은 한 시장의 portrait이다. 그러나 동시에, 한 사람이 자기 자신의 가족을 어떻게 다시 만드는지에 대한 portrait이기도 하다.
스튜디오의 빛
5월 초의 오후 햇살이 포트리 스튜디오의 창문 안으로 비스듬히 들어오고 있었다. 폴 김 시장이 들어선 순간, 공간이 살짝 무거워졌다. 그는 가운데 자리에 앉았다. 양옆으로 저스틴 강과 루시 양이 자리를 잡았다. 내가 첫 마디로 한 말은 이거였다. “오늘은 정치 인터뷰가 아니에요.” 폴 김의 표정이 그제야 풀렸다.
긴 머무름
폴 김은 1991년에 뉴저지에 왔다. “가족을 위해서 왔어요. 그런데 도착하자마자 — 이게 내가 생각한 미국이 맞나, 그 의심이 들었어요.” 그는 그 무서움에서 도망치지 않았다. 매일 한 걸음씩 디뎠다. 그렇게 디딘 발자국이 모여 한 도시가 되었다. 그가 인터뷰 내내 가장 많이 입에 올린 단어는 ‘시장’이 아니라 ‘가족’이었다. 결혼 직후 아내의 건강에 어떤 일이 있었고, 결국 두 사람은 아이를 가질 수 없게 되었다고 했다.
“아이가 없으니까 — 나는 이 동네 아이들이 다 내 아이라고 생각해요. 그렇게 생각하면 안 외로워요.”
이 한 줄이, 정치인의 답변이 아닌 한 사람의 고백이었다. 그리고 이 한 줄이 인터뷰 전체의 무게중심이었다.
매일 새벽의 일
그의 하루는 이메일로 시작된다. 시장의 개인 이메일을 주민들에게 알려주고, 매일 아침 아무도 답하지 못한 메일을 직접 답한다. “나는 공무원이에요. 주민의 종이지요. 답장 안 하면 안 돼요.” 그는 한 가지를 분명히 했다. “미국 시장은 한국 시장과 달라요. council member 여섯 명이 더 강해요.” 지난 두 해 동안 팰리세이즈 파크는 3백만 달러가 넘는 그랜트를 받았다. 그러나 그가 가장 단단하게 말한 한 줄은 본인의 한계에 대한 것이었다. “우리는 우리 손으로 박수를 못 칩니다. 빌딩 오너랑 같이 박수를 쳐야, 소리가 나는 거예요.”
그가 고른 두 사람
저스틴 강은 18살에 미국에 왔다. “솔직히 저는 부동산 전문가가 아닙니다. 아이들 학비 때문에 다시 손을 댄 거예요.” 자녀 이야기에 표정이 가장 환해졌다. 출마 결정에는 아내가 있었다. “스폰서 받지 마. 우리 돈으로 해.” 그는 취미로 모으던 시계 두 개를 정리했다. “이기는 거, 지는 거는 유권자가 결정합니다. 그런데 저는 이미 절반은 성공했어요. 깨끗하게 선거를 치렀으니까요.”
루시 양은 2017년에 들어왔다. 그녀의 이야기에 가장 자주 등장한 사람은 92세 어머니였다. “이웃들이 그냥 뒷문을 열고 들어와요. 우리 엄마가 못 들으니까. 한국에서는 못 봐요. 여기, 팰팍에서만 봐요.” 새 집 첫날, 그녀는 집 앞에 사과나무를 심었다. 머무는 사람만이 심는 나무다.
마지막 희망
“팰팍은 우리 한국 사람들의 마지막 희망이에요.” “팰팍이 얼마나 좋은 곳인지 — 사실 한국 사람들만 모릅니다. 외부인은 다 알아요.” 결국 그가 매일 하는 일의 다른 이름은 ‘잊지 않기’였다.
그날의 마지막 빛
마지막에 그에게 한마디를 부탁했다. “누가 이기든, 누가 지든 — 부디 우리의 꿈을 살려 주세요. 60% 한국 사람이 함께 사는 동네 — 이런 곳, 우리에게 다시 없습니다.” 마지막 사진을 위해 가까이 섰을 때, 폴 김이 작게 말했다. “가까이 와요. 더 가까이.” 폴 김은 ‘내가 했다’고 한 번도 말하지 않은 시장이었다. 그래서 그가 그 자리에 머무는 한, 한 도시는 잊지 않는다.