SEOUL holds a discussion on the Korean education system

After the American president’s kind words were made public, other locals were more critical, questioning whether “education fever” is worth the pressure it places on students. The same youth who have become well-known for their outstanding performance on international exams are also known to spend the greatest number of hours at school year-round. On the streets of Chungdam or Gangnam, it’s not uncommon to see vans unloading elementary students to different hagwons, or private academies, until late at night on any day of the week.

Given that March in Korea marks the start of a new school year, SEOUL thought this month would be a fitting time to talk about education in Korea. Two panelists volunteered to share their thoughts on the subject. The first, Sohn Jeong-eun, was born in Korea and attended the local school system, though also had the experience of studying abroad in Moscow for a language exchange program. The second, Michal Mocarski, attended elementary and high school in Poland and started university there before  coming to Korea to study Korean. Michal has been in Korea for three years and is now studying journalism at Kyung Hee University.

What are some characteristics you see in Korean education system?

Michal: I think the biggest characteristic is learning by heart. Learning everything as it is in the book without really questioning it, questioning your professor or asking any questions at all. I think that’s the biggest difference between schools in Poland and here. I don’t see people asking any questions during classes – they just learn everything. While in my country students try to criticize even the professor.

Jeong-eun: In secondary school, the merits of studying in Korea are that you learn every subject. I applied to be a diplomatic major in high school, but I also had to learn physics, chemistry and lots of other stuff. Upon graduating high school, people have general knowledge on most subjects. Regarding education in universities, I’m a bit critical. As I mentioned before, we don’t have enough experience to know how to answer and think about issues in a discussion setting.

Then how are classes usually organized?

Jeong-eun: The professor just presents the material he prepared and he shares his knowledge with us. If one class continues for 50 minutes, then we have only four or 10 minutes designated at the end for questions, so most students don’t ask a question. If one asks a question and if the professor takes a long time to answer it, it’s holding back the class, so students are afraid of making others feel uncomfortable.

Michal: In Korea, the professor asks after a lecture if there are any questions about the topic, and then someone asks a question. But the difference is that (in Poland) we don’t wait for the professor; we just ask. Here, people tend to ask their friends or people sitting next to them if they don’t understand something.

Jeong-eun: Many older generations believe that what college you go to will determine your next career. Going to a good college means you’ll land in a good job, have more success doing start-ups or rise in social status, so parents try their best to send their child to good schools. Many (parents of middle- and high-school students) I know consistently check their child’s report card and plan together what they have to do to get a better grade.

Michal: It’s their retirement system. Your insurance for the future is your children, so parents work to show their children that they care and spend so much money in their child’s education so later their child can be successful and take care of the parents in the future. The second point is money: University fees are really expensive here compared to my country. In my country, it’s free because it’s paid from our taxes, so it’s okay if you fail, change your major or study a little more. But here one mistake can cost you millions of won. I think that’s why they want to be sure that their children are going to succeed.

How does your experience of studying outside Korea compare to studying here?

Michal: I only attended a Polish university for a few months, so it’s hard to compare. But in my experience, Korea uses secondary sources but in Poland we use primary sources or original journals. For example, in Korea, you learn about Marx from someone who interpreted Marx, while in Poland we learn directly from (reading) Marx. Poland also has college entrance exams, and there are people that are crazy about it, but not as crazy as here.

Jeong-eun: I was a language exchange student so I cannot say I fully experienced the Russian education system. But I was surprised to see that most language classes and even regular classes had verbal exams.

The discussion then moved on to the general culture surrounding studying in Korea. Michal mentioned how surprised he was to see students studying at cafés and even on public transportation. He also thought it was interesting to see so many different kinds of dongari, or extracurricular activity groups, available at his university, and how much drinking was involved at social events. Jeong-eun brought up a private academy class she took that taught her how to draw an apple in a certain way that would help her to perform better on art exams. She mentioned that some students even take private lessons for physical education.

The group tried to end the discussion on a positive note by commenting that things are slowly changing for the better. In 2013, Korea’s ministry of education began the pilot program for a “test-free semester” at dozens of middle schools across the country. Under the program, middle-school students would be taught a basic curriculum that does not include any formal examination, thus allowing students to enjoy a more autonomous learning experience. Many are hoping that these kinds of measures will curb the rote-learning system and foster creativity in students. Though challenges remain, as long as the changes reflect the culture and history that is unique to this nation, the future is indeed bright for the new generation of Korean students.

Written by Claire Jang
Photographed by Ryu Seunghoo

Expats discuss dating culture in Korea

Even at an age where everyone is uber-connected through the internet, it’s getting harder and harder to expand one’s social network and meet new people. A random romantic encounter on a train to Paris seems like something that can only happen in a movie; language barriers also narrow one’s chances for intercultural love, as do the challenges that sometimes arise with cultural differences.

For this issue, SEOUL gathered expats from all different walks of life to discuss dating culture in Korea. Allan, for example, is from Brazil and has been in Korea for 18 months. He is in a relationship with a Korean who was introduced to him by a friend. In March he will be studying international relations at the Hankuk University of Foreign Studies. Anastasia is a newlywed from Moscow, Russia. She met her Korean husband while she was studying in Taiwan. Though she had visited Korea a few times in the past, she only arrived in Korea in December to begin her married life. Daniel, an American from New York, is a teacher and a Korean-English translator. He has been in Korea for 10 years. He met his wife in 2006, and has been happily married for six years.

How would you describe your experiences of dating a Korean?

Anastasia: Korean men are very caring and attentive. When my husband and I started dating, from the start he wanted to take responsibility. One strange thing from the beginning was that there was less privacy compared to relationship with a person from my home country. He wanted to know where I went, what I do, what I eat and everything. From the beginning it was a little bit confusing because I wasn’t used to it; I told him to give me some space. But on the other side, he was also caring in this way and he became my closest friend.

Daniel: The dating culture here seems quite ritualized or formalized. The idea of proposal is very important here. There is this need to officially ask someone to go out with you before she becomes your partner. When my wife and I started dating she asked me, “When are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?” and I said, “Aren’t we going out? Of course you’re my girlfriend!”

Allan: Dating is definitely more serious in Korea. In Brazil you can meet someone more casually, and if you like the time you spent together, then you get into a more serious relationship. In Korea, they want to be with you officially. I think it’s because in Korea there is this lingering hope that everything is going to lead to marriage. Because it’s serious, everything is a “couple” thing. Life revolves around couples.

Then the conversation led to a fun discussion about dating culture in Korea. The writer found out that there were many more “couple” things than just the matching couple outfits that you see in the streets of Seoul.

Allan: I’ve seen couple underwear! When I came to Korea I was surprised to see White Day, Peppero Day and Couple’s day … and I joke that in Korea every day is “couple’s day.” There’s so-called “date course” that bloggers recommend. They write a guide, you go to this lunch, then you go to this coffee shop that’s very romantic, and then you walk this direction and so forth. It’s nice that people celebrate love and the union of two people this way.

Daniel: Couples seem to pamper each other a lot. They treat each other very well, and financially, you spend a lot of money. Couple culture here seems very well developed. Everywhere you go there’s always a “couple set” at restaurants, coffee shops and even at pubs. It’s very cute.

Anastasia: I’ve seen couples that were wearing the exact same thing from head to toe. There are also many personalized gifts. My husband ordered a calendar with our pictures printed on it. I’ve seen portrait dolls as well.

What about being single in Korea?

Anastasia: My husband told me that if a man or woman has been a single for a long time, other Koreans may think that he or she has a problem, that maybe he or she is difficult to get along with. For us, it’s fine. Singles want to be alone or just didn’t find a good match.

Daniel: I have a slightly different point of view. Some of my acquaintances are not in relationships, but I think there’s some kind of stigma toward people not having any friends to call up to go out and eat with. I don’t think there’s a stigma about not being in a relationship. One guy I know just does not want to invest time and money into a relationship, so he’s been single for a few years. But he has a group of friends who he goes traveling with on weekends.

Allan: When people meet you they ask you your name, age and if you have a girlfriend. So you tend to think, am I supposed to have one? And if you’re a single, everyone is looking out to set you up on a sogaeting (a blind date).

Speaking of sogaeting, how do people meet in Korea?

Daniel: There seems to be so many interesting ways to find a date here. There’s sogaeting or “banting,” where classes from a girl’s high school and a boy’s high school will meet up. If they pair up, great. If not, next week they try a different school. There is this whole industry around trying to match people up, whereas in the US it’s very much bars and online these days. Here, online dating seems to have a negative connotation.

Allan: There are booking bars where waiters drag you to meet guys. Koreans don’t like meeting people at a club because there seems to be a negative connotation about meeting someone at a club. There is this event that happens during Christmas where a large number of singles gather at a park to find a date.

Anastasia: I think in Korea the society is very much interested in finding you a partner whereas back at home it isn’t like that.

Because two of the panelists were married to Koreans, the discussion often extended to include things foreigners experience when they prepare for a wedding with Korean in-laws or misunderstandings that happen in multicultural marriages. The general comment was that in Korea, marriages tend to be about union between families. Practices like sanggyeonlae, where parents of an engaged couple formally meet together to set the wedding date and formalize the wedding step-by-step, show how involved families are in Korean marriages. Such situations might seem somewhat strange to expats that are engaged to Koreans. Anastasia added, however, that because the number of multicultural families is growing in Korea, more support is being made available to expats that marry Koreans. The panelists also explained that the cultural gap in interracial relationships is a lot easier to overcome if there is a good amount of communication between both people. That being said, if communication is the key to a good interracial relationship, it must not be that much different or harder than any other kind of union.

Written by Claire Jang
Photographed by Ryu Seunghoo

Seoul sits down to have the race discussion

Do you think racism in Korea is different than that of other places, say, the U.S. or Canada?

Hazaan — While researching for my article, I found that racism in Korea mostly falls under three categories. The first is based on bloodline pride, which took root during Japanese colonialism as a form of resistance, and the discrimination based on that affects all foreigners equally. The second is anti-black racism, something mainly perpetuated by American media and a phenomenon that was largely born during the 1950s and ‘60s, sparked mostly by exposure to American troops. The third is a bit more complicated: the idea that Korea is now a successful nation and thereby needs to associate with “successful races” more than “unsuccessful ones,” meaning white people are viewed as successful while non-white races are viewed as unsuccessful.

Turner — Racism here is definitely different. It was immediately apparent once I started applying for jobs. Many ads say schools are only looking for white people, especially “white females”; I’ve even seen ads that specifically say they don’t want black people. At the same time, the racism doesn’t seem malicious; it’s not based on hatred. Koreans just have a very strict definition of being Korean, and anyone outside that is a foreigner. Most Korean prejudice seems based on misinformation and a lack of experience outside their cultural sphere. I’ve persuaded people here of the hurtfulness of their comments. I’ve met many Koreans who respond to my criticism, and they apologize or acknowledge their error. In the States, however, calling people on their racism almost never wins you points; I’ve actually lost friends that way.

Hazzan has interviewed people who were offered jobs that were then revoked once the employer realized the applicant was black. Turner has experienced such discrimination personally: An employer once expressed eagerness to hire him based on his credentials, but stopped answering his calls after he submitted his photograph – a week before he was supposed to start working. “They could have at least called me, and given me a little bit of respect,” he says. “It was probably awkward for the guy to tell me his boss didn’t want to hire a black man.” Hazzan says that many employers don’t specifically say “whites only” in their ads, but they tell the recruiters exactly that.

Hazzan — When I first came here, many schools didn’t want gyopos, Filipino-Canadians or any non-white teacher, even if they were qualified native speakers.

Turner — One recruiter actually told me in an email that a school wouldn’t hire me because of my race – which I actually appreciated. It was probably awkward for him.

Hazzan shares that many of his interviews revealed cases of Korean parents organizing to protest their children being taught by black teachers, often pressuring academies to cut black instructors from their staff.

So in that sense, is racism easier to spot in Korea?

Turner — Definitely. It’s not as malicious as it is back home, where I feel the racism is based on genuine hatred and prejudice. It’s hidden; you have to seek it out and shine the light on it. Whereas here, it’s blatant, slap-in-the-face racism: We’re hiring no blacks. It almost has that 1950s feel to it (laughs)!

Hazzan — The U.S. has been negotiating race since Columbus arrived in the Americas with the first slaves. It’s embedded in the system. Here, it’s a relatively new issue.

Do you think there is racism against white foreigners in Korea?

Hazzan — Extremely minimally. I was denied service at a restaurant once for being a foreigner; that happened once in 13 years. People say cabs don’t pick you up because you’re white, but it’s probably because drivers don’t want to translate. To be honest, there is actually an enormous amount of white privilege. As I mentioned before, whites are generally viewed as the “successful” race; companies openly prefer white candidates over non-white ones.

Turner — When I first got here, a few white co-workers complained that they experienced racism – to me! I asked them if they thought about what their comments might mean to someone like me, if they considered that what they experienced was just a taste of what people like me go through everyday – both here and in the U.S. There’s actually an organization of people of color living in Korea; there are thousands of us here. It’s called the Brothers and Sisters of South Korea.

Hazzan quickly adds that BSSK was one of his lifelines when he was researching for his article.

What about dating or marrying in Korea as a foreigner?

Hazzan — Granted, I will say if you get married to a Korean as a white person, then you go undergo some more prejudice – but I think you’ll have it a lot better than a black person would. Mostly, when you get married, it comes down to whether or not you’re Korean.

Turner — I don’t think – I know – that if you’re planning to date or marry a Korean as a black person, you’ll have a harder time than if you were white.

Our discussion nourishes a number of tangents, many of them too complicated and lengthy to transcribe here. Hazzan mentions the stereotype of the “dangerous black male,” an image often exacerbated by American media. Turner confides that one of the first questions people ask him is “Do you play basketball?” – at which point he has to disappoint his inquisitor by saying no. He’s also regularly asked if he can dance, sing or rap. Once, while teaching a class, students pointed excitedly at him while chanting, “Africa! Africa!”

The conversation then swerves to the experience of black Africans, compared to that of black Americans, with both panelists agreeing that the former are treated far worse.

Turner — I actually think that Africans, Southeast Asians and Indians have it far worse than I do.

Hazzan — I interviewed someone from Ghana. When he tells people he works in computer science it’s not uncommon for people to respond, “I didn’t know they had computers in Africa!”

As suggested by Turner, much of the racism in Korea seems to result from misinformation, carelessness or a lack of experience outside one’s cultural sphere. That being said, ignorance doesn’t excuse racial discrimination, and to pass it off as a simple cultural side-effect not only ignores the problem, but damages the global image that many Koreans seem to want for their nation.

Of course, Korea is certainly not the only place where racism exists, and progress is always an ongoing process, no matter how much things improve. Perhaps we can take hope from Turner’s experience in being able to persuade people that racist comments aren’t harmless. Slowly, but surely, we can all work to bridge gaps and heal wounds.

Written by Felix Im
Photographed by Ryu Seunghoo

A discussion on the Korean-American experience in Korea [/box_light]

Written by Felix Im

Photographed by Ryu Seunghoo

Gyopo: Naver’s Korean-to-English dictionary defines the word as an “overseas Korean” or a “Korean living abroad.” The word’s actual usage in both written and spoken Korean implies that it includes all of the following: native-born Koreans who emigrated as adults; native-born Koreans who emigrated as infants, children or teenagers; foreign-born Koreans who were raised abroad under native-born parents; and, depending on who you talk to, Korean adoptees who were raised under non-Korean parents. Some gyopos speak perfect Korean; some speak none at all: Most seem to fall somewhere in between. Some identify themselves with Korea to a great extent, while others seem completely indifferent. In short, gyopo is a complex word with endless connotations and no single definition – but then again, most words concerning ethnic identity or nationality are often just as confusing as the individuals they describe.

Whatever the word means, most people who are categorized as gyopo will probably agree that their experience of living in Korea is markedly different from that of both full-on natives and non-Korean expats. To investigate this experience further, SEOUL gathered four panelists and asked them to share their views on what it means to be a gyopo in Korea. Teri Ham, a former IBM employee turned creative content director, was born in Texas and grew up in various places around the United States. Amy Mihyang Ginther, a voice and acting coach, is a Korean-American adoptee who was born in Gyeongsangbuk-do but grew up in upstate New York. Peter Kim, an assistant professor at Kookmin University, is NYC-born but Jersey-raised. Sandy Cho, a Yonsei grad student, was born and raised in Korea but was mostly educated in the States. The writer himself was born and raised in Colorado. Such a mix of very different types of Korean-Americans made for a lively and stimulating discussion on what the Korean identity means.

Teri

To start off, how “Korean” did you perceive yourself before first coming or coming back here? How much did you identify with Korea?

Teri — Not at all. I spent a good amount of my childhood in Colorado, where it was Caucasian-dominated, so I didn’t have that sense of Korean community, and I think most of my white friends just considered me the same as them.

Amy — I was fortunate enough to have a Korean adoptee community growing up, and I identified myself as not necessarily Korean but definitely Asian – and different. I’d always felt different.

Peter — To me, it was more half-and-half. I grew up in a large Korean community in Jersey, so I always had that community, but I always knew I wasn’t completely native.

Peter

How Korean do you feel now, after all your time here?

Amy — Actually, when I first came here, I felt very non-Korean. I initially arrived with my dad to visit my biological family, and then came back alone to live with them for a month, and that experience made me feel very Western and American. I felt like a closet Westerner the entire time. Now, I feel as Korean as I want to be, with no pressure to swing one way or the other.

Sandy — When I first moved to the States, I considered myself 1.5 generation, but now that I’m back here, I just consider myself a Korean who speaks English. I have citizenship here, and I know my rights here, whereas back in the States I was always a foreigner and paperwork was always complicated.

 Teri — I don’t know how to answer that question. Everything’s so global these days; it’s hard to categorize your identity that way. I am what I am, and I’m comfortable with it.

Sandy

Do you sometimes feel that Koreans treat you differently than they treat non-Korean expats or other native Koreans?

Teri — I was very lucky, because I got the best of that experience. I was welcomed very warmly, and people respected my independence. I’ve heard of other people being treated very poorly, but for me that wasn’t the case.

Peter — Only when I say something in imperfect Korean and a non-Korean foreigner says the same thing in the same way but gets much more slack. They expect more from me because I look Korean, even though I’m still a foreigner in many ways.

Amy — There seems to be that cognitive dissonance that prevents people from understanding why I wouldn’t speak perfect Korean. Also, there’s a very confused feeling here towards adoptees, a sense of shame mixed with jealousy at those who were able to go.

Sandy — For me, my friends who just grew up here always treat me like I don’t know anything about Korea, and when they find out that I do know certain things, they act very surprised. It’s very condescending. I mean, I’ve even been asked if I can eat tteokbokki. Come on! Also, whenever I say something they don’t agree with, they just say, “You’re being American; you can’t think that way in Korea.” I’ve learned not to argue.

Amy

Have you ever felt pressured to be more “Korean” than you actually are?

Peter — When I’m driving, everybody always tells me to just cut everyone off and be more aggressive. I don’t drive that way; I’m not willing to risk hurting someone.

Amy — I’ve learned to not eat when I’m not hungry, or to not take drinks I don’t want – but I’ve also learned to just surrender when people want to take care of you. At first, my Western, more independent side rejected any interference. I don’t feel comfortable with being pushed to get married, however.

Teri — No, I’ve always been very clear when I consider something unacceptable. But when I was asked about when I planned to get married and have kids during my interview, I wasn’t offended. I knew I was in different territory.

Sandy — Speaking of gender expectations, I’ve just become numb to it – just accept it for what it is. Also, you just can’t chill here. You always have to be doing something.

The discussion swerved into gender equality, social stigmas and oppressive drinking culture. After some emotional accounts and heated discussion, we all agreed that the Korean identity can be just as flexible as that of America, and that it doesn’t have to be correlated to restriction or unhappiness. Being proud of being Korean means being able to transform Korea’s cultural image into what you want it to be. In the end, although it has its drawbacks, being a gyopo helps one to appreciate the benefits of a cross-cultural background.