[Korea Encounters] Student opinions on earning money, happiness, Western influence in 1968

High school graduates in Seoul, published in The Korea Times Jan. 13, 1971. / Korea Times Archive

By Matt VanVolkenburg

In September 1968, The Korea Times inaugurated a section titled "Student Corner" on Sundays to "serve as a forum for ideas of thinking students in view of the ever-increasing number of collegian readers." Submissions were to be less than 500 words and include the writer's name, university, major and a photo.

Articles published during 1968 touched on a variety of topics but were often focused on the various stresses students faced and reflect some of the societal conditions of the time.

On Oct. 27, Lee Kap-sook, a political science major at Sookmyung Women's University, coined a new term, "local scholarship," as "the expense of lodging and clothing sent by parents to their sons and daughters who live in the boarding houses or dormitories," which was "applied for" by writing a letter to one's parents, preferably without a stamp, as it proved that the writer had "run out of even small change."

In her latest letter, Lee wrote that she had made an "unprecedented promise in the history of 'my promises' to [my] parents": to earn a real scholarship. Though she "felt a deep sense of responsibility for the promise," she was not sure if she could honor it or not. She decided, in the end, that "maybe it is more important to spend freshman days in a valuable manner ― a stepping stone for my future career."

On Nov. 17, Joe Chan-hee, an English major at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies (HUFS), expressed worry about the struggle to find a job he would face after graduation, but thought that, as a freshman, he should only have to worry about "being immersed in study" during "the golden period of university life."

He wrote, "I cannot turn away from the fact that only with money can I maintain myself in school," which resulted in him looking for part-time work, usually as a tutor. While he conceded that "being a tutor is rather easier than taking other kinds of part-time jobs," it was still "a hell of a time spending about two hours every day with rich students as they treated me, although not openly, as a foolish freshman rather than a dignified teacher."

Not only did it take time and effort to secure such a position, he would sometimes be disappointed by the payment he received, and hear things like "If you don't like it, that's all right. There are many persons that will gladly accept my offer." He added, "When the big-bellied boss says this assuming an air of arrogance, our poor 'arbeiter' feels as if the self-respect that is formed at the bottom of his heart is devastated."

Some students inadvertently revealed the tough living conditions of that time period, such as when Park Jang-sang, a pre-med student at Catholic Medical College, wrote on Nov. 17 that "My little sister was all smiles this morning when she showed me a piece of ice from a wash basin."

On Sept. 15, Chung Dong-sup, an English major at Kyung Hee University, described a discussion held by 60 students from different schools on the question of "How can we be happy most of the time?" Ultimately, only various manifestations of happiness were agreed upon, leaving the author deciding that "In order to be happy, you must learn to be satisfied."

Others thought that the key to happiness was mental relaxation. On Nov. 3, Rhee Hyung-june, a philosophy major at Seoul National University, described how "the most delightful time" of his week was when he solved math problems, often falling asleep at his desk. As to why he spent so much time on a subject not connected to his major, he wrote, "we have to find outlets for our burden which the routine daily life imposes upon us in this confused world." While some found catharsis in drinking, watching movies or hiking, he wrote that "When I feel blue, I open the text of mathematics. The longer I have my heart in my reading, the more I feel joy and free from [having] various subjects to learn and lots of assignments to do."

On Dec. 27, while describing the disappointment he felt at not having achieved his goals for the year, Kim Hong-gi, a political science major at Seoul National University, listed three different responses to the belief that "life is always far below what we expect of it." The first was to "enjoy your ephemeral life" and not think about the future, which would at least free you from the "various mental diseases which usually develop from the harrowed mentality." Another was to grieve over your failures and become "more alienated from reality," which he thought was the worst option, because those who chose it "may not enjoy a long life and will remain uninitiated in the task of nation-building." The final option was to "indulge in cynicism or apathy" without a willingness to participate in society.

Kim's mention of the task of nation-building made clear that many students took seriously the idea that their role was to contribute to society. Kim Young-sup, a freshman in the food manufacturing department at Pusan Fisheries College, wrote that the "aim of college education is to study a science, and search for truth cultivating a leading personality which can perform service to human society."

Just what shape Korean society should take was also a topic of discussion. On Sept. 15, Lee Sang-joon, an English major at HUFS, described how foreign residents in Korea who wrote about performances or exhibitions by Koreans of "Western music" or "Western art" unwittingly imposed "a sort of inferiority complex" upon the artists. This was because they questioned why Koreans were "imitating" the West and not pursuing Korean traditional art or music. If this attitude were to be "applied to other aspects of life," he argued, "Nothing could be exchanged or shared between any two different countries" and "underdeveloped countries would never be successful in their endeavors to modernize or industrialize."

While he did not "deny there exists this or that kind of cultural tradition…peculiar to this or that locality ― such as the Korean traditional way of life," he believed that they were "obtained by habit and not restricted to a particular area." For him, there was no "'This-is-yours-and-that-is-mine' boundary of culture or civilization," so "a good habit leading to custom must be pass[ed] around the neighborhood of humanity, no matter where it may be initiated."

In a piece published on Nov. 24, Hoh Keum-dong, a German literature major at Seoul National University, expressed a different opinion on cultural mixing. Though he admired the courage of the "many coeds dressed in mini skirts strutting on the street" on campus, he worried that "they too often accept frivolous Western modes without any careful consideration which is based upon the customs and circumstances quite different from ours."

It was not until he had "seen many skirts come into vogue in our campus" that he realized the "formidable force" of fashion, which was able "to make so-called elite co-eds of our university impotent." For him, this was indicative of a key problem faced by Korea since liberation, namely that it had "been exposed without protection to waves of Western influence and underwent unprecedented upheaval leaving in its wake numerous social evils and confusion, especially in the area of morality." As a result, he wrote, "we are losing our heritage amidst a whirlwind of Western trends," which left him afraid that Korean culture was "about to vanish."

Because of this, he felt Koreans were "confronted with the grave moment of history" in which they needed to "find, preserve and construct [their] heritage," because if they did not, and continued to "accept the contagious influence of Western trends blindfolded," they would be left "suffering from mental servility" which would lead to despair.

The authors of these articles touched on topics that, to varying degrees, are still pertinent, though some of the assertions they made might raise eyebrows today. For example, amid Hoh's concerns about Korea's heritage, one wonders what is to be made of his claim that "Coffee is hazardous to the health of most Koreans who can hardly afford to eat meat."

Matt VanVolkenburg has a master's degree in Korean studies from the University of Washington. He is the blogger behind populargusts.blogspot.kr.