Playing race card

By Jon Dunbar

When asked to take part in a panel on racism in Korea, I was initially against it. As a white Canadian male with only intermediate Korean language skills, I've had limited exposure to racism in my 12 years here.

Only once have I been singled out for my race, and that was at a business English academy where I worked six years ago, by a Korean-American. Otherwise, almost all racism directed toward me has targeted the Koreans who dare to associate with me.

I've frequently heard people say "know your place" but this has only ever come from fellow foreigners and it doesn't seem at all enforced. Rather, it seems that sentiment makes life far worse for ethnic Koreans who must “know their place,” whereas for me, conforming or not to the local culture and its roles for me is entirely voluntary and I have the freedom to not be confined to any place.

It is far easier for me than my Korean coworkers to opt out of “hoeshik,” or mandatory work dinners. I'll skip meetings if I feel like it. And I could leave work at six even if my boss stays a few hours late. I can also declare my ignorance of something and have it patiently explained to me.

These benefits ― essentially playing the race card, the way I often describe it ― extend beyond such trivial matters into all facets of socialization and legal status. I shy from calling it “white privilege” because non-white Westerners enjoy many of the same benefits while also dealing with their own unique context here. We always have an escape route, or a buffer zone, most Korean people don't.

Of course, this cuts both ways, leading to many foreigners being excluded. Describing this to others not experiencing it, they react that it sounds lonely. It’s certainly worse for some than others.

I don’t want to entirely put this on Korean language ability. Foreign-born residents who’ve been here 40 years, who have Korean families and even Korean citizenship, will still be told “Welcome to Korea” at many opportunities, as long as they look foreign. Not speaking fluent Korean obviously creates barriers, but most Westerners don’t come here to speak it and it doesn’t affect our career paths that much. We aren’t required to do that much, and the benefits only come after great effort over a long period of time.

It is telling that most westerners who come here don't pick up much of the language at all, but if you meet anyone from non-English-speaking countries, especially migrant workers, not learning Korean is not a luxury they can afford. The largest group of foreigners in Korea is migrant workers living far from the major cities, rendered invisible in society. While Westerners are paid to speak in our native language, by companies that boast employing Westerners and may advertise using white people, migrant workers are left to fend for themselves in unfair working conditions. They succeed only with hard work.

I am welcomed here and paid well for my English language skills, and to some extent for my national and even racial origin. So that's why I can play the race card.

The writer works as copy editor and contributing writer at The Korea Times. He can be reached at jonghyundunbar@gmail.com.