Read in Korean

A few days ago, at the National Rally calling for the impeachment of President Yoon Suk-yeol, singer Lee Eun-mi took the stage. She didn’t just perform—she spoke, delivering a brief yet profoundly moving message. At least for someone like me, who has long passed the stage of being “slightly an adult,” her words carried a weight that was hard to ignore.

She began with these words:
“With the heart of a slightly grown-up adult, I have deeply worried about My Country, Koreea.”

Then, she continued,
“Watching all of you standing your ground throughout this winter, I have shed tears—tears that burned deep in my heart.”

Her words were not just about solidarity; they were a testament to the power of the people standing together. They echoed louder than any politician’s speech, carried more sincerity than the words of so-called intellectuals, and felt more genuine than the wisdom often preached by elders.

Like Lee Eun-mi said, shouldn’t true adults worry not about power, parties, or generations, but about South Korea itself? Her message deserves to be remembered and shared.

Here’s what she said on stage:

“I’m sorry for stepping onto this stage so late. All winter, as I toured for my concerts, I struggled to hold back the urge to stand here with you.

I’m now approaching 60. Is this a good time in life? Maybe. Maybe not. But even I, with the heart of a slightly grown-up adult, have worried deeply about Korea.

I kept wondering, ‘What’s happening to our young people? Why aren’t they moving? What would it take to stir their hearts?’ But this winter, watching you hold your ground in the streets, watching you stand before military armored vehicles, watching you spend sleepless nights in the cold to protect this country—I shed tears. Deep, burning tears.

And so, even if it’s late, I’ve come running here today. I want to stand with you, to feel the heat of this moment together.”