My earliest memories of language are tied to my grandparents. They spoke in ways that felt different from what I heard at school or on television. Their words carried the rhythms of fields and kitchens, of stories told late at night. Listening to them, I realized that language holds more than meaning. It holds entire ways of life.
Many of those voices are fading. Dialects that once echoed across villages are being replaced, and songs that once guided daily work are at risk of being forgotten. That is why I started building SoriBank, a digital archive dedicated to endangered Korean dialects, folk songs, and oral traditions.
I will begin with rice-planting songs and loom songs, the voices of farmers and weavers whose music was inseparable from their labor. Over time, SoriBank will expand to preserve other regional sounds so that these traditions remain alive for future generations.
This is the start of a journey that connects personal memory to cultural preservation.
Comments
Post a Comment