Dumbfoundead on identity, survival and finding his voice

Before he became Dumbfoundead, a rapper known for his sharp wit and cultural commentary, Jonnie Park was a child navigating an undocumented life in Los Angeles — one shaped by his parents’ pursuit of the “American Dream” and the strain it placed on their family.

Born in Argentina to Korean parents, Park was brought to the US at the age of three, crossing the US-Mexico border with the help of a “coyote,” or smuggler. He would grow up in LA without legal status, in a household defined by both resilience and instability — an experience that would later shape much of his artistic voice.

While his family moved to the US in pursuit of a dream, Park said the decision ultimately fractured their household.

“Experiences of growing up as Korean American in the ’90s in Los Angeles were seen through the eyes of my parents, because ultimately I was just a kid at that point,” Park said in an interview with The Korea Herald on March 17. “I don’t think we experienced as much racism as our parents did as immigrant parents who didn’t speak the language.”

In his upcoming memoir, “Spit: A Life in Battles," Park recounts how his father turned to alcohol to endure life in a foreign land while trying to provide for the family.

“I saw what my mom endured — from the outside world as well as inside the home. She endured both with my dad,” he said.

The book opens with an unflinching portrayal of his father, whom Park describes in stark terms. Yet, the narrative does not remain fixed in anger. As the story unfolds, it shifts toward understanding, revealing a more nuanced perspective shaped by time and maturity.

“I think deep down inside, I want him to just read it,” said Park, who believes his father won't read because of the language barrier. “Toward the end of that chapter, I mention that I understand why he could have been that way.”

From classroom jokes to battle rap stages

While his parents struggled with limited English, Park found it relatively easy to adapt socially. Rather than withdrawing when teased by classmates, he responded with humor — a reflex that would later evolve into his defining strength as a performer.

“I was never the first one to attack,” Park said. “Someone would come at me first, and I’d respond. Then people around me would react, and I realized — I’m pretty good at this.”

That instinct evolved into a craft. Park began blending humor with rap, first in classrooms and lunchrooms, then on underground stages.

“I always say the classroom was my first stage,” he said. “I’d raise my hand, say something funny, and feel the energy of people wanting more.”

In Los Angeles’ underground hip-hop scene — particularly at open mic venues like Project Blowed — Park often stood out as the only Asian performer in rooms dominated by Black artists. Rather than viewing it as a disadvantage, he saw it as an opportunity.

“If you’re the only Asian kid in a room of 300 people, everyone’s curious about you,” he said. “In hip-hop, the only thing people really care about is whether you’re good. It’s not about Black and white — it’s about wack and tight.”

His rise in battle rap coincided with the early days of YouTube, where recorded freestyle battles began drawing millions of views. The exposure translated into paid performances, including appearances at prestigious US universities such as Harvard, Yale and Stanford — an ironic twist for a high school dropout.

“They were supposed to be the smartest kids in the country, and they were paying me to perform,” he said. “I felt like a genius.”

For Park, battle rap was more than competition; it became a space where identity was negotiated in real time. He realized that people said offensive things, but if it was clever, others respected it. The battles made him realize everyone was dealing with something, and that, he said, brought more empathy.

Beyond music: acting, writing and new forms of storytelling

After more than two decades in hip-hop, Park began expanding into acting and screenwriting — a shift he describes as both natural and necessary.

“I started rapping when I was 14, and now I’m 40,” he said. “At some point, you want to tell stories in different ways.”

He recently joined the writers’ room for the second season of Netflix’s “Beef,” a series centered on Korean American experiences, and is currently developing his own screenplay.

“Every project I’m working on deals with something Asian and something American coming together,” he said.

Park sees these transitions not as departures from hip-hop, but as extensions of it.

“Rap is writing. It’s also acting,” he said. “If I ever win an Oscar, I’d thank hip-hop first.”

Even as his roles diversify, Park resists being defined by a single title.

“I’ll always say rapper is my first title,” he said. “But I think I’m just a personality — a little bit of everything.”

"Spit: A Life in Battles" hits shelves April 14.