AnthroScope Korea

Welcome to AnthroScope Korea! Through thoughtful analysis, this blog delves into the lived experiences, identities, and social dynamics of Korean students, both local and abroad, from my own perspective. From the nuanced contrasts between local and boarding school education to cross-cultural identity patterns among Korean students in global contexts, each post aims to uncover the cultural threads that have shaped my experiences in the United States and in Korea.

recent posts

My name is Yoonseo. My friends call me Claire. My 2 names reflect my cultural journey ever since I began attending boarding school in America. I hope you enjoy my blog!

  • Do school uniforms symbolize unity at schools in Korea? Does the absence of uniforms in American boarding schools negatively affect the community’s unity? Why?

    A major difference I noticed when I first moved to America was the absence of uniforms. For nine years of my life, from kindergarten onward, I wore a uniform at my Korean international school. Likewise, most Korean local schools require students to wear uniforms. At my international school, the only exception to the school uniform was occasional dress-down days. These days felt unusual and exciting, as students briefly stepped outside the structured image the school typically maintained. Even then, however, the sense of order and expectation never fully disappeared.

    Uniforms often symbolize unity, but they also represent discipline. Korea’s filial culture is rooted in Confucianism, which emphasizes deep respect for elders, as shown in environments like schools. Although my international school offered a Western education, it also seemed to have adopted aspects of Korean filial piety. This balance between global influence and traditional values shaped how students behaved, interacted with teachers, and perceived authority within the classroom.

    School uniforms can also operate as tools of conformity. As I discussed in my previous blog, a notable difference between American and Korean ideologies is the balance between individualism and collectivism. The United States tends to emphasize self-expression more than Korea does, whereas Korea prioritizes coming together as a group over individual progress. Implementing school uniforms is a subtle way to restrict individuality among the school community. The uniforms, being used as a tool, show how schools enforce and maintain collectivism and long-standing Korean culture. In contrast, in America, the absence of uniforms allows students to express themselves, aligning with its embrace of individualism and self-expression. Clothing becomes another language through which students communicate their identity, values, and mood.

    Although uniforms can symbolize unity and collectivism, I believe there are better tools to bring harmony within a school community, as someone who has experienced both environments. Uniforms appeal to visual unity, but, surrounded by a larger community, I have more opportunities at boarding school to engage in physical, student-led clubs that surpass the power of uniforms in bringing harmony to my surroundings. Through shared interests, teamwork, and collaboration, students build stronger connections that go beyond appearance, creating a deeper and more lasting sense of unity.

  • Welcome to my Korean Cultural Anthropology Blog!

    The blog consists of topics addressing the differences and similarities between Korean local students and boarding school students, patterns in identity of Korean boarding school students in comparison to other cultures like Europe, etc.

  • Reflect on some cross-cultural faux pas that you have observed or experienced. What is the root cause of these hiccups?

    Reflecting on my past several years at boarding school, I’ve encountered some cross-cultural faux pas. The broad diversity among the students at my high school has led to several occasions when I took a step back and pondered why such faux pas occur sometimes. 

    My initial observation of a cross-cultural faux pas was specifically between Korean and American cultures. For example, as a new boarding school student in eighth grade, I had a conversation with my friend who came from Massachusetts. During the chat, she suddenly complimented me on how humble I was. Although I was very flattered, I asked her why that is, and she told me that I never seem to emphasize and share my personal accomplishments with groups of people. She then continued by telling me how in America, she grew up being encouraged to share her accomplishments to strengthen her confidence. 

    This brief interaction prompted me to consider the different perspectives held by people in Korea and America regarding the discussion of personal achievements. In Korea, sharing personal achievements with others can often come across as being arrogant. However, in America, sharing one’s achievements is praised, as it builds confidence and motivates others. Through research, I discovered that this contrasting perception stems from the discrepancy between Korea’s collectivist culture, which emphasizes group harmony, and the United States’ individualist culture, which prioritizes self-promotion. 

    When I moved on to high school, I encountered a more diverse community with a larger student body. I witnessed a very interesting cross-cultural faux pas between French and American cultures. While living in a relatively large dorm during my sophomore year, I was brushing my teeth with two friends, one from France and one from Maine. My French friend shared a very intriguing fact about her culture. She shared that in France, natural scents are very welcome, so wearing deodorant is not a strictly expected part of etiquette, unlike in America. She also said that when she first came to boarding school, she perceived my American friend’s shower routine quite excessive. My American friend and I were not familiar with this, but we were certainly interested in how different our perceptions were regarding hygiene. Even in Korea, I would sometimes forget to wear deodorant, not necessarily because natural scents were welcomed, but because a high percentage of Koreans have genetic variations that lessen body odor. 

    Similar to what I did after my first observation of a cross-cultural faux pas, I conducted further research and concluded that the differing perceptions of hygiene may have originated from events around the 19th century. Until the 19th century, in France, public saunas had a bad reputation, and people avoided water, thinking it could weaken the body and mind. Additionally, I discovered that a century ago in France, people considered body odor a sign of good health. Meanwhile, in America, emphasis on hygiene vastly increased during the 19th century due to the Great Sanitary Awakening. 

    These incidents taught me that cross-cultural faux pas often pertain to mundane, day-to-day issues – things that would be overlooked between people of the same culture.

  • Which US cultural trait have you gone out of your way to preserve as you go back and forth between Korea and the US? Why? How successful have you been?

    Recently, I discussed some Korean cultural traits I retained while overseas. As much as I focus on maintaining these traits, I also go out of my way to preserve important U.S. cultural traits that I’ve adopted throughout my years of attending boarding school while in Korea. One of several is treating time like gold. 

    I’ve noticed that American culture often highlights the importance of managing one’s time. For example, instead of using the common phrase “as soon as possible,” Americans more often set a specific time such as “3 p.m. by tomorrow.” Settling into a community at my boarding school where time and productivity are highly emphasized, I simultaneously learned how to use my time wisely, avoiding waste. The more time I spent in the United States, the more I became conscious of the importance of timeliness. I realized that arriving a few minutes earlier than planned for meetings is considered being on time, and coming right on time is almost considered arriving late. Realizing this helped me to develop the mindset of thinking that time is truly priceless. 

    I noticed a difference when I returned home to Korea. Every time I planned hangouts with my old friends, I was the one who arrived the earliest. With this American trait of emphasizing punctuality, I was thinking my friends were late, even though when I checked my watch, they were right on time. Some of my friends arrived 15-20 minutes late and explained that they arrived on Korea time. This practice is still culturally acceptable in many circles. Regardless of what is allowed in Korea, I try to maintain the American emphasis on punctuality and timeliness because these have been crucial for my time management skills. I’ve noticed that I’ve become significantly better at completing my work promptly while also learning how to manage my time effectively to ensure I get enough rest. 

    Another helpful American cultural trait that I embraced is using direct language. Living in Korea, I struggled with delivering a firm “no.” I usually felt bad about declining particular requests or favors, even under challenging circumstances. Sometimes, struggles occurred in simple situations, such as shopping at the mall. Even when I was not interested in trying on clothes, if an employee offered, I felt compelled to say “yes”, simply because it would be rude if I refused. 

    However, after attending boarding school, I learned that politely refusing and being direct in general in terms of expressing my feelings was culturally acceptable. Through numerous interactions and class discussions, I soon realized that refusing and being polite can be done simultaneously, all the while being assertive with my personal opinions and feelings. When I return to Korea during breaks, I no longer struggled with expressing my clear feelings, because I’ve learnt that being direct and being rude are often entirely different things.

  • Which Korean cultural trait have you gone out of your way to preserve as you go back and forth between Korea and the US? Why? How successful have you been?

    While going back and forth between Korea and the U.S., enjoying Korean food was a key factor in maintaining my cultural connection to my Korean identity. Different types of dishes brought back a variety of old memories, including traditional holidays like the Lunar New Year and dinners with my grandparents. 

    When I first moved to the U.S. several years ago, I struggled initially, trying to adjust to a new country, new foods, new customs, and a new community of students and teachers. Still feeling unfamiliar in the first week, I walked into the dining hall for dinner and saw kimchi at the salad bar. After a few long days of attempting to familiarize myself with my new surroundings, I was filled with pleasant surprise and glee when I saw the kimchi. The moment I took a bite, I felt an immediate sense of comfort and happiness, thinking of my motherland. Although physically miles away from Korea, I felt connected to my cultural roots and my Korean identity thanks to Korean food. 

    Korean food also enabled me to share my culture with my friends. I encouraged them to try some kimchi during lunch, and they ended up loving it. They were fascinated to hear about the practice of “kimjang” (making kimchi) that dates back thousands of years. Sometimes when my mom shipped 

    Korean snacks to my dorm, I made sure to share them with my dormmates. Korean snacks and food not only strengthened my cultural bond but also brought many of my friendships closer. 

    The best experiences I’ve had and cherish most from my boarding school years were forged while sharing and preserving my culture through Korean cuisine. Feeling homesick was never a problem for me because of the memories that Korean food brought back and for which it served as a reminder. While sharing Korean food with my friends, I exposed myself to their cultures as well by trying some of their traditional dishes, from places such as Mexico, Japan, Greece, and others. In many ways, Korean food was a source of comfort as well as a cultural passport.

  • What are some Korean cultural practices or beliefs or rituals that you’ve had a difficult time with after having spent so much of your life as a student attending U.S. boarding schools?

    After spending years of my life in the United States, I’ve had some trouble adjusting to a specific Korean cultural practice: using formal speech as I address my elders. With its deep Confucian roots, Korea has long developed a firm age-based social hierarchy in which younger individuals are expected to speak to older individuals using the honorific form of the language. I do think the United States does share some similarities regarding this, but not to the extent that this hierarchy involves using the formal tense of the language. 

    I’ve noticed myself feeling limited when faced with having to be careful about the type of Korean I need to use around my elders in Korea. The main distinction between this formal usage of speech is that in Korea, when younger people are talking to the elders, they have to put a “yo” or another complementary word that makes a sentence sound polite. In contrast, there are no such complementary words in the United States (or any other English-speaking country) when speaking to the elders. Every time I return to Korea during school vacations, adjusting quickly to this cultural practice or ritual feels awkward. 

    Another cultural element that I’ve had difficulty adjusting to in Korea is the widespread belief in gender roles. As I mentioned previously in one of my blogs, I tend to shock people in Korea when I tell them I enjoy playing ice hockey. I met with my grandparents during my visits to Korea, and they asked me what I’ve been up to lately. When I told them I’ve been dedicated to ice hockey, their initial response was, “Wow, you’re trying a boys’ sport”. Because Korea holds rigid beliefs in what girls and guys should do and what’s suitable for each gender, my family members, and not to mention even my friends, were surprised that I wasn’t doing something a “normal girl would do”. 

    Rather than confusing my cultural identity, these Korean cultural practices and beliefs have strengthened my understanding of Korean society and people. I have become more reflective of the two different identities I have gained from my experiences in both the United States and Korea. In the end, my difficulties in adjusting and the unexpected reactions from family members have helped me broaden my cultural perspective and to stay open-minded when toggling from country to country.

  • What type of culture shock do Korean boarding school students experience when they go to their respective campuses versus when they return to Korea?

    Living in Korea, my daily routine revolved around driving to and from my international school. I entered the single building that contained of all my classrooms. During recess, I would go to the gym’s basketball court to play some volleyball. It was a familiar rhythm within a small, confined space. 

    Once I moved to the United States, this ordinary life changed drastically. I was exposed to a much larger and open campus with a separate admissions building, an athletic facility building with multiple basketball courts, weight rooms, and several school buildings. Being used to seeing a small campus with few buildings and facilities, I was startled to see myself living within such a massive campus.

    Most of the international schools in Korea are considered to have large campuses when compared to local schools. However, versus American campuses, Korean international schools are significantly smaller; students who transitioned from international schools in Korea (like myself) to American boarding schools encounter a much broader physical space. The facilities, especially the dorms, are scattered across the grounds, and I’ve never imagined walking 10 minutes to get to the dining hall from class. On my way to different buildings, I see other kids from all over the globe — Asia, Europe, and Africa. I see new kids every day, which was unlikely to happen at my small Korean international school. 

    I’m always amused and impressed when I get to my campus after 2 weeks of spending time in Korea on break. Although short, my breaks in Korea accustom me to merely seeing Koreans, barely spotting any people of other ethnicities. When I return to America, I see a campus that is filled with people of different backgrounds, cultures and traditions as well as a variety of cuisines in the dining hall. For me, exposure to such diversity meant exposure to unfamiliar cultures. Every time I return to campus, I’m reminded of my community’s cultural richness.

    Sharing a room with a roommate also was one of many adjustments that I’ve had to make. In Korea, I have my own room that I return to every day after school. In my first year at boarding school as an eighth grader, I was paired with a friend who came from Mexico. She at times offered to share her clothes from local Mexican clothing brands and snacks she brought home. While reciprocating, I’ve learned to appreciate unfamiliar cultures and necessary selflessness when living in a community away from home. 

    Going back to campus isn’t merely about getting back to school. It’s actually about expanding my understanding of diversity. It’s helped me get into a better rhythm of adapting to changes in settings while appreciating unfamiliar elements wherever I go. 

  • What cultural baggage do Korean boarding school students carry? How does this compare with that of international boarding school students from other countries?

    Over the years while attending boarding school, I’ve noticed some dissimilarities regarding the cultural baggage different students carry, depending on where they are from. As a Korean boarding student who grew up in South Korea until 7th grade, I’ve noticed the vast difference in academic pressure and expectations. In Korea, many of my friends felt lots of pressure on their shoulders to get good grades, straight As for every term, and experienced studying for tests for an endless amount of time. School, for my Korean friends, was all about achieving a high academic validation. And yes, I also noticed myself seeking academic validation with high grades until I flew overseas to study in the United States. 

    Meeting friends from different parts of Europe, other areas of Asia, and the United States was a revelation regarding their cultural baggage. For instance, one of my friends from France once told me she came to a boarding school seeking personal development and a holistic education. Through classes like Humanities, she sought to grow as a person, not only by succeeding academically. A friend from Japan had a different cultural baggage, which appeared to me as a surprise because I assumed students from other Asian countries faced similar expectations relative to Korean students. She told me that her parents reminded her to achieve more extraordinary social etiquette before moving away from home. She was last told to “be polite to everyone.” I was very intrigued by how students from different origins hold differing values and expectations for themselves at boarding school. On the other hand, many of my friends who are from the United States wanted to succeed in leadership roles and extracurriculars by taking advantage of the vast availability of clubs and activities offered by our boarding school. They placed a higher premium on securing student leadership positions than on achieving high academic performance. 

    Encountering boarding school students coming from different parts of the world exposes me to new values I’ve not considered prior to boarding school. Scholastic success used to be my main goal – what I must achieve while away from home. But now, by building new relationships with people from a variety of backgrounds, I’ve learned to value personal growth, better social etiquette, and gaining leadership experience. In turn, I’ve encouraged my peers and and those I’ve met to work diligently for academic achievement. Ultimately, boarding school became a gateway to staying open-minded and accepting new cultural perspectives. I’ve joined athletic teams, launched a dog-walking club, and applied to be a tour guide, all the while maintaining good social graces. With the privilege of sharing campus life with boarding school students hailing from around the globe, the most significant benefit was absorbing these new cultural values and growing stronger as an individual.

  • Cultural Comparisons: Grief in South Korea versus the United States

    On December 29, 2024, South Korea was shaken by a devastating plane crash at Muan Airport. The aircraft, attempting to land, collided with a concrete wall, resulting in the tragic loss of all 175 passengers and four crew members, leaving only two survivors. The disaster cast a deep shadow over the nation, evoking painful memories of past tragedies such as the Sewol ferry sinking and the Itaewon crowd crush, both of which claimed countless lives in the past decade. As I observed the collective grief unfolding in Korea, I began to reflect on the ways different cultures cope with tragedy—particularly the differences between South Korea and the United States.

    The United States has also endured profound tragedies, including the 2012 Sandy Hook school shooting, which took the lives of 26 people, many of them young children. Airline disasters, such as the recent American Airlines mid-air crash with an Army helicopter in Washington, DC, which claimed almost 70 lives, have also left lasting scars. In both Korea and the U.S., national tragedies trigger widespread sorrow and shock. However, the ways in which each country processes and responds to such grief reveal key cultural differences.

    One of the most striking distinctions lies in how mourning is expressed on a national level. In Korea, grief is a deeply collective experience. Large-scale memorials and public gatherings provide an outlet for national mourning, with politicians and prominent figures offering condolences in highly visible ways. Families of victims often remain at the accident sites for extended periods, demanding accountability and answers. In the aftermath of the Muan plane crash, grieving families set up tents at the airport, demonstrating the country’s commitment to communal mourning and support.

    In contrast, while tragedies in the United States also generate nationwide sorrow, the public grieving process is often shorter and more localized. Extensive media coverage follows major incidents, but the national focus typically fades within days, leaving affected families and close communities to grieve more privately. Rather than collective vigils spanning weeks, American mourning tends to be more personal, with an emphasis on allowing individuals the space to process their emotions in their own way.

    These differences in grieving practices reflect broader cultural values. Korea’s strong sense of unity and shared responsibility means that grief is not just an individual burden—it is something the entire nation carries together. Mourning is highly visible, and there is an implicit expectation that people will publicly express their sorrow. In the United States, however, individualism shapes the grieving process, emphasizing personal healing over prolonged national remembrance. The cultural priority is to respect the privacy of those most affected rather than maintaining a long-standing public dialogue.

    As a Korean student attending boarding school in the U.S., I have felt the weight of these cultural contrasts firsthand. When tragedies like the Sewol ferry disaster or the Muan plane crash occur, I experience a deep emotional connection to my homeland, even from afar. Watching news reports of grieving families gathered in tents, and sensing the sorrow in my own relatives, I feel a profound collective mourning that transcends physical distance. Conversely, while I have witnessed grief in the U.S. following heartbreaking events, I have noticed that my American friends’ emotional responses often seem more subdued and short-lived in comparison.

    Reflecting on these differences, I have come to realize that cultural identity operates on multiple levels. While surface-level differences such as language, fashion, food, and music are easily observed, the way societies process grief reveals deeper cultural values. Mourning is not just an emotional response – it is an expression of national identity, history, and collective consciousness.

    Although grief may seem like a universal experience, the way it is expressed and processed varies significantly between cultures. By analyzing these differences, we gain a deeper understanding of how cultural identity is shaped by history, tradition, and social norms. Recognizing these layers is crucial in appreciating the complexities of human emotion and connection across different societies.

  • Which language do Korean boarding / international school students prefer to speak? Korean or English? What do our linguistic choices tell us about our cultural perspectives?

    The preferred language of Korean boarding and international school students differ. I have noticed the difference after having attended an international school in Korea as well as a boarding school in America. 

    When I attended an international school in Korea, I spoke Korean most of the time. All my friends did too. I was surrounded by Koreans wherever I went, didn’t have as many peers from countries other than Korea, and wasn’t exposed to American culture. Since I was surrounded by many Korean friends also attending international school or attending mainstream Korean school who tended to speak Korean, I instinctively spoke Korean outside of the classroom. Of course, when speaking with my teachers, I spoke English, but at other times, I hardly spoke it. I never gave any thought to speaking in English throughout the day. 

    When I began attending a boarding school in America, I realized how much my linguistic choices had changed. Meeting friends, classmates, and dormmates from all over the world who were English speakers, I automatically became accustomed to this new preference in my linguistic choice. I noticed this when I was typing “ofc” instead of “of course,” “omw” instead of “on my way,” “imma” instead of “I’m going to,” and other abbreviations when I communicated with my friends throughout the day. I even began using American slang without realizing it and also began dreaming in English. My language preference had converted to a more “Americanized” style and I began preferring to speak in English even when hanging out with my Korean friends back at home. 

    Several Korean boarding school students I’ve met in America also went through the same experience. The more they surrounded themselves with English-speaking friends, the more comfortable they became with English compared to Korean. Like these friends, I sometimes couldn’t remember Korean slang off the top of my head, even those I used to use when I previously attended an international school in Korea. 

    Expressing my thoughts and opinions in English with my international school friends when I met them in Korea was significantly easier than in doing so in Korean. I wasn’t the only one taking note of this massive change. My friends pointed this out, too. With my growing preference for speaking English, even when I am in Korea, I began to sense a cultural shift inside of me. Before, it was a foregone conclusion that I felt more at home in Korea. But now, I am not sure. There is a side of me that is growing more and more comfortable in America, leading me to sense a a strong correlation between language preference and cultural preference. 

    Many Korean boarding school students, including myself, have gone through changes in language preferences. As they speak English more frequently and fluently, they tend to feel more comfortable living in America. Once they fly back home to Korea, they feel distant when they hear Korean being spoken back and forth. Sometimes, I feel relieved and understood when I encounter other Korean boarding school kids speaking English in Korea. The cultural comfort level when I’m in Korea compared to America is very low now that my English is relatively better than my Korean. 

    My outlook on my cultural ties with Korea versus the United States has evolved. Although I attended an international school in Korea, I was not immersed in American culture. Now, as a boarding school student immersed in American culture throughout my academic year, I feel closer to American culture than to Korean culture because of my linguistic exposure that has a lot to do with being surrounded by non-Koreans day in and day out. Being surrounded by the language that students prefer to use provides them with a sense of comfort. In my case, I have comes to grips with the understanding that I feel more at home in America than I do in Korea.

  • What type of clothing do Korean boarding / international school students prefer

    to wear? Korean or non-Korean brands? What do our fashion choices tell us

    about our cultural perspectives?

    Living in different countries truly shapes the difference between what Korean boarding students wear and what international school students wear. I’ve noticed this firsthand. 

    Before I moved to the States for boarding school, I did not have easy access to non-Korean brands. In fact, I didn’t know many brands other than the typical Korean brands. I often went downtown with my international school friends in Korea to shop for clothes in small boutiques. Until that time, it felt like there wasn’t much of a difference between the styles of boarding school and international school students. However, when I first moved to the States for boarding school, I noticed that fashion choices and beauty standards varied in the two environments.

    Adjusting to a new environment, I realized that many of my new friends from the States wore clothes from well-known American brands. As a new student in America, I found these brands unfamiliar, especially for someone who had only shopped at small stores in Korea. Initially, the fashion choices I encountered were more “preppy,” floral-printed, and colorful, relative to what my international school friends would choose to wear. I was very familiar with wearing overall monotone colors like brown, black, white, and other solids instead of printed clothes with floral patterns all over. 

    However, around my new friends, I wanted to be vulnerable, add some spice, and change my original style, mainly to benefit from easier access to new American brands. I’ve  become more familiar with famous American brands that target teenagers like me, such as Brandy Melville, Hollister, Skims, and many more. Wearing these brands also had me identify outwardly more as an American student fitting in with American peers than as a Korean student living and studying in America.

    Throughout the past few years of attending boarding school in America, I’ve come to realize that I have grown accustomed to buying most of my clothes from famous American brands instead of choosing clothes from small and not very well-known Korean brands. I went from shopping for clothes at unknown stores in downtown Korea to scrolling online for clothes on popular American brand websites. Through this, I witnessed firsthand that the environment surrounding a student does indeed plays a key role in his or her fashion choices and styles, which also impacts a student’s cultural affinity.

  • What type of music do Korean boarding school / international school students prefer to listen to? Korean or non-Korean music? What do our musical choices tell us about our cultural perspectives?

    Musical tastes have always differed among Korean boarding and international school students. Being at an international school for around 9 years and at boarding school for 4 years now, I’ve definitely noticed the gradual change in my music taste. 

    A few years back, when I was living in Korea and attending an international school, I tended to listen to genres like K-Pop. I would keep up with new releases on Spotify and discover new K-Pop bands by communicating with my friends. In Korea, I did not have many foreign friends but rather, most of them were fully Koreans. Although we did not talk in Korean, we did share our love for Korean artists, like the K-Pop bands, and helped each other learn about new artists who could spice up our music tastes. 

    But things changed dramatically when I started at boarding school. During my first year at boarding school, I met many more friends coming from different parts of the U.S. Living in a dorm with them allowed us to share our contrasting tastes in music, and that’s when I learned about American artists who make rap music. For me, K-Pop songs and U.S. rap songs felt like diametrically opposed genres, because they were so different in terms of the beats, lyrics, and melodies. I was constantly looking up new rappers on Spotify; my search list underwent a tremendous metamorphosis. All of a sudden, the K-Pop videos and songs that I was used to watching and listening to, respectively, were nowhere to be found on that list. Instead, it was populated by a variety of famous rappers and American artists. 

    As I started to branch out by meeting more friends coming from countries other than Korea, there was a noticeable shift in the music genres I looked for and in the new releases that I kept up with. I no longer recognized new K-Pop songs when I went to Korea during breaks. 

     A way to make a connection with a new distinct group of people, away from my motherland, was to embrace the music tastes of my new companions. I have to admit that I felt quite vulnerable while altering my musical preferences, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Although my new musical choices might not relate to Korean culture as much, I began discovering artists outside of Korea. I expanded my cultural perspective by taking into consideration of foreign cultures and languages. The people you surround yourself with will certainly have a significant effect on your musical preferences. And since music is a huge component of culture, your musical preferences will permeate your being and impact your cultural perspectives as well.

  • What do Korean boarding / international school students prefer to eat? Korean or non-Korean food? What do our food choices tell us about our cultural perspectives?

    Through my encounters with other Korean international and boarding school students during my years in the U.S., I’ve observed a direct correlation between Korean students and which foods they prefer to eat. There are two distinct groups among Korean boarding school students; one group tries to eat Korean food at least once a week, and the other prefers to cut out eating Korean food completely.

    The first group orders Korean dishes at least once every week. Many kids I’ve talked to have told me that eating Korean food serves as a source of relief for feelings of homesickness, as ordering food from their motherland helps them feel connected to their culture. Through delivery apps like Doordash or Uber Eats, they typically order popular dishes such as Kimbap or Bibimbap, to experience a taste of their favorite childhood foods they used to enjoy so often in Korea. Being physically apart from one’s home country is difficult, especially when one is literally on the other side of the globe. Many Korean students tend to feel a diminishing connection with their Korean heritage due to years of studying abroad in the U.S. Enjoying Korean food once a week is a way for them to maintain and, to a great extent, protect this connection.

    By contrast, the other group barely eats Korean food. I consider myself a part of this group. Taking even a bite of Korean food while I’m in the U.S. fills me with feelings of nostalgia and homesickness. As soon as my mouth touches the food, I’m suddenly overwhelmed by feelings of sadness as I remember how far away I truly am from Korea. The more I taste my cultural food (the food I grew up with, the food I eat with my Korean friends and family), it makes me miss Korea even more, triggering intense feelings of longing for home. When I’m in the States, I tend to go to the dining hall and eat what I’m served, or I order from fast food restaurants, such as McDonalds or Chick-fil-A, that are considered very “American”. I’ve met another Korean student at my boarding school who also thinks along the same lines. She avoided eating Korean food because it was a depressing reminder of her physical separation from Korea. 

    Despite everyone being a part of one Korean international group, it’s ironic how these two groups differ from each other so much when it comes to Korean food. One group feels that Korean food triggers feelings of homesickness while the other group feels that Korean food ameliorates their homesickness. Through these contrasting opinions, I’ve come to the realization that everyone has a different method of connecting with their culture and heritage. Whereas some strategies may work for a certain person, the same approaches can actually have the opposite effect on another person. Through this I’ve grasped the importance of food in a cultural context – it can trigger feelings of happiness and home, but also sadness and separation.

  • How do typical US boarding / international school students and students who have been educated entirely in the Korean education system perceive each other? 

    People in Korea tend to view Korean students attending US boarding or international schools (in Korea) differently from students attending mainstream Korean schools. Some use the term “white-washed” to describe a typical student from the States. I know this because I’ve been called this term multiple times. Moreover, during my numerous encounters with people in Korea, they talk to me as if I am not familiar with the Korean language. Some even began our conversation by asking, “Do you speak Korean?” 

    In fact, after receiving a Western education all my life, I don’t know much about what it is like to attend a local Korean school where students are educated entirely within the confines of the Korean education system. It isn’t surprising that people expect me to be naive and unaware when they know I’ve never had a chance to study within the Korean education system. 

    Although I don’t know what it is like to have been educated in the Korean education system, I often come across articles and journals written by Korean school students. These often reflect their academic stress from intense studying and high expectations. As I get more invested in hearing their stories, the academic schedule they go through everyday shocks me to the core. After a long day at school, they rush to Hagwons (private tutoring academies) for additional lessons and go to bed at midnight after loads of homework. This left me wondering how other local Korean students would perceive Korean students attending international schools in Korea or boarding schools in the States. 

    I looked up journals and articles written by US boarding school students as they shared about their normal school day. After school, they participate in sports, hang out with friends, finish their homework, and go to bed relatively early. I could relate to the content of these articles more deeply than that of the articles written by local Korean students. I spotted notable comments left by local Koreans, such as, “They have so much freedom” or “I wish I could live their lives for once.” I have come to realize that the two very different groups of students sometimes wish to experience each other’s educational systems, wanting to encounter something unfamiliar and new. I sometimes look at local Korean students walking by me in public, wearing typical uniforms I see in Korean movies, and think, “I wish I could experience going to a Korean school like them.” I think of the same thing as that of local students when they see students like me from the States. 

    As I’ve previously discussed, “Koreanness” in people correlates with the two differing groups of Korean students. Local Koreans are more aligned with the Korean lifestyle and culture, which perfectly suits the setting in South Korea. On the other hand, Korean students from abroad visit home and have a difficult time blending in with other Koreans in the environment. This contrast begins with the different educational systems that envelop the students, creating a sense of disconnection between the two groups and an obstacle for them to overcome if they are to relate to each other’s lives.

  • What makes someone truly “Korean”? 

    Pondering upon this question confused me about what it really means to be “Korean.” 

    I am not talking about citizenship papers, but I am contemplating the idea of “Koreanness.” 

    Currently speaking from the perspective of a boarding school kid in the U.S. who has never had a local Korean school experience, I realized that citizenship papers don’t play a significant factor in fitting in with other Koreans in society after all. 

    Going far back to kindergarten, I started my education at an international school in Korea. Almost everyone in my classes was Korean, and I identified myself as 100% Korean. I easily blended in with my Korean classmates, who spoke fine English and Korean just like I did. Outside of school, I talked to my parents in Korean, which did not make me question the “Koreanness” inside me. 

    As a rising eighth grader, I followed my siblings’ path to go study abroad in the States. Though intimated at first, I did not think this would bring me such a vast change. Expectedly, there were no barriers to mingling into groups of non-Koreans. I started hanging out with kids from everywhere in the States. All of a sudden, I noticed myself becoming much more familiar with American food, slang, jokes, and sports like hockey. Unknowingly, I was becoming more attached to the American culture as I ended up feeling like I had lost my “Koreanness” in me. 

    Just two more years added to that, and now, as a junior in an American high school, I feel less “Korean.” Unintentionally, I would use English with my friends and family, miss American food when I’m in Korea, and even feel distant from my friend group when I traditionally hear, “You don’t even act or look Korean.” 

    So, to go back to the question, what makes someone truly “Korean”? 

    No, it does not simply depend on having Korean blood or citizenship papers, but rather, how you accept yourself in the “Korean lifestyle” with other groups. 

    I consider myself a true “Korean,” not because of biological reasons but because of how I see myself among other Koreans. I do feel like I stick out when I am with my local friends in Korea because of the way I talk and look, the things I like, and the culture I have become more familiar with. 

    There exists an unspoken social construct about Korean Americans, immigrants, or boarding students like me, who study abroad and come home with confusion about identifying themselves as ” full Koreans.” The idea of being truly “Korean,” after all, ties in with how well you align yourself with the Korean culture and lifestyle as you blend in with local Koreans.