Contributor
David Tizzard is a professor at Seoul Women’s University, holds a PhD in Korean Studies, and hosts the Korea Deconstructed podcast. He has lived and worked in Seoul for more than two decades. Reach him at datizzard@swu.ac.kr.
The past is a foreign country. Never is this more obvious when you speak to young Korean people today. They know everything that has happened around the world (or at least on Insta) in the last 24 hours but very little of what took place a few decades ago.
There are some things that our language simply cannot convey. Some things that are beyond the world of numbers and letter. Some things that just are. And, at the same time, are not. This is the world of the Tao, symbolized so perfectly in the Yin Yang. I will not even be able to explain it here in words. I can only point to it and hope that it appears.
A professor recently asked me if I have a “bu-gae” on my Instagram. The answer was obvious: “Yes, of course!” I paused for a minute though. First I was worried that he might ask what my ID was. No way he was getting that. Then I was curious how he even knew about such things. Weird!
Today’s young people are incredibly opinionated. They have a whole range of views on gender, nursing strikes, Park Chung-hee, China, Japan, and much much more. What’s interesting is that when you take the time to talk to the young people of Korea, you find that their answers are varied, complex, and defy easy categorization. There is a huge silent majority out there, young adults who vote, study, work part-time jobs, and pay taxes. And yet, you will likely never hear from them.
My daughter was jumping around the room, happy she was going to play with the girl next door. I looked at her and asked simply, “Your friend is coming round later. Are you happy?” Without missing a beat, she stared up at me and replied, “Daddy. She’s not my friend. She’s my Unnie.”
“Do you think BTS will get back together?” I innocently asked one of my students this week after she introduced herself as a fan of the group. Her reaction was something else. She went quiet, looked down, and then burst into tears. But this wasn’t a quiet sob. And there was nothing performative about her behavior. It was an outpouring of genuine grief played out in front of a large lecture hall of people she was meeting for the first time. The effect of K-pop idols on people is real. My understanding of what questions can and can’t be asked is increasing by the day.
One of the most contentious issues to discuss here in Northeast Asia is not feminism, it's not mental health, nor is it politics. It's history. In Korea, it is the kind of thing for which there is an overarching grand narrative to which one is expected to bend the knee and brook no dissent. And while you will find a whole host of articles, webtoons, Netflix dramas and YouTube videos exploring issues of gender and sexuality from a wide range of perspectives and playing a very critical role in brokering important discussions, history is often left under-represented. And there are reasons for this.
Any reader of my column will recognize that I have a largely positive view of Korea, its people and its society. I recently categorized the nation as "antifragile" because it has not only continually demonstrated the quality of being able to overcome great adversity, it has also achieved remarkable success. While other nations might have succumbed to the lingering effects of colonization, civil war, and military dictatorship, Korea has fought its way through them and achieved a series of revolutions (economic, political and cultural) to establish itself as a place of relative luxury, freedom and desire.
This week I received a request from a friend and professor in the United States: “Can I please explain the concept of ‘han,’ particularly how it manifests in contemporary society and the benefits it provides to the community.” Korea clearly continues to fascinate many people around the world and a lot of them are looking for the secret code or key to understanding why Korean people are the way they are, why their K-dramas resonate the way they do, and why their favourite idol’s eyes linger on screen a little more than is comfortable. Could it be than this is all due to ‘han’? Certainly we are no strangers to articles and YouTube videos declaring “How Squid Game Reflects Korean People’s Unique Sense of Han” or “Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite Shows the Economic Han of Modern Korea.”
Modern society and the online world present us with many success stories. Yet we generally only see the aftermath of this success. We see the tree reaching to the sky, but the roots that made the growth possible remain invisible. Let me start with a story of personal failure.