Julie Kim was one of our Spring 2025 Digital Residents. As a part of this program, we do Q&As with our residents to feature them, their work, and their words. See our Q&A with Julie below, and explore more Spotlights here.
TSW: What is a question you’re asking yourself these days, and what is a question you or your work is asking of your reader?
Julie Kim: Many of my writings often return to the questions: Do you know that you are worthy and loved? Do you know that they are, too?
Our stories are treasures, with each one illustrating why we, ourselves, are treasures. The richness and sensitivities in our stories lead the call to offer care and dignity to one another. When we honor each other’s stories, we lay the groundwork for the world we dream of and believe in.
I think questions are important, because they are part of the healing process. True healing requires us to examine the systems and frameworks that shape and affect our lives.
Some other questions in my mind these days:
Why doesn’t the violence matter to you?
Who mothers [fill in the blank]?
What are humans?
And one I imagine my dog earnestly asking me when I put away her toys, her eyes full of confusion: Why do you keep putting my toys somewhere you’re not?
TSW: Who do you bring into the room with you when you write, and/or, who do you consider your work to be in conversation with? Who are you writing for?
JK: My grandmother is near me when I write. I think of the days in high school when she would make me cups of iced coffee while I “studied” at the living room table. She used a classic Korean black coffee mix with just the right amount of sweetness for a 16-year-old learning how to drink coffee and navigate life. She’d make two cups: one for her, one for me.
I lived with her for three years in Korea. During that time, she often worried about what to feed me — a source of stress for her I didn’t fully recognize until I was older. She did her best to create a nourishing environment as I adjusted to a new country and school during those formative adolescent years. She passed away 15 years ago, but her gentle presence remains with me.
I write with her in mind. I imagine that if she were here now, she’d still be making sweet iced coffee for us to share. Her way of saying, I see you, I care for you. I know you’re trying. My writing is how I say it back.
TSW: What’s a mantra or motto that you have in mind these days when you are writing or creating? Is there a writing routine or ritual that keeps you beginning?
JK: This spring, I went to a Corinne Bailey Rae concert. Not only did it transport me back to the days when I had her album on repeat, but her open spirit and love for her craft were palpable. She and her band riffed and improvised all night, filling the room with the gift of sound and presence.
There’s a lyric in one of her songs that she sang over and over again: “I hope you get your dreams.” With outstretched arms and smiling eyes, she declared this well, genuine wish countless times until each corner of the venue was thoroughly blessed: I hope you get your dreams.
I carry that mantra and declaration that we will get our dreams, especially when I write & create. I wish this not only for myself, but for my loved ones, for humanity. For everyone navigating today’s landscape, surviving these circumstances: I hope you get your dreams.
