Asian American Empowerment - Navigating the Korean American Divide

A look at Korean American identity in one Midwestern high school

By Soo Ji Min
©2001 AsianWeek
December 14, 2001

Poised and determined, high school senior Alice Kim, 18, is known as “one of the smart ones.” Ranked in the top 3 percentile at Glenbrook South High School (GBS) in the Chicago suburb of Glenview, Ill., Alice lives in two distinct worlds. Her academic world is primarily shared with white classmates. These friendships are casual and confined to the physical boundaries of her school. Meanwhile, predominantly Korean American friends inhabit her personal world. That’s because up until her junior year, Alice nurtured only her Korean American friendships and never really questioned the practice. “Everyone I hung out with was Korean,” Alice explained. “Koreans from the area and from junior high. It felt normal and natural.”

But now, Alice, keenly aware of the divide, wants to develop closer relationships with non-Korean Americans. “I’m definitely trying to branch out,” said Kim, who was born in Lyon, France and moved to the Chicago area when she was one year old. “I felt like I was limiting myself so much from the things I could learn or experience with different kinds of people. I like being challenged in every single way — emotionally, physically, and not just in a purely academic sense.”

Kim is not alone. Adolescence is often a time of increasing self-awareness and intense social pressure. For Korean Americans at GBS, these painful developing years are also a time when they begin to struggle with their ethnic identities.

GBS, with significant numbers of Korean American students — both immigrant and Western born — is a Korean enclave in a predominantly white region. Out of its 2,390 students, 411 or 17.2 percent, are Asian Pacific Americans, the overwhelming majority of whom are Korean American.

Meanwhile, the state of Illinois is 73.5 percent white and only 3.4 percent Asian. Just 0.4 percent of Asians in Illinois are Korean, according to 2000 U.S. Census data. Professor Pyong Gap Min, a professor of sociology at Queens College in Flushing, N.Y., who studies Korean life in America, points out that Asian Pacific American students living in primarily white neighborhoods often try to hide their ethnic identity or feel ashamed about certain physical characteristics. “Community context has a lot of influence on identity formation,” Min said.

One Culture, Two Cafeterias

At GBS, however, Korean American students can be very comfortable. Walk down any corridor as students move between class periods, and one can hear the buzz of conversations spoken in Korean. Or join students in either of the two school cafeterias during lunch: Korean nationals sit together at one table in one room and in a separate room Korean American students sit together.

Indeed, there are enough Korean-speaking students at GBS that it is possible for students who speak only Korean to feel at home. When Jin Hyuk Bang, an 18-year-old senior, first moved to Glenview with his brother and father from Inchon, Korea three years ago, he easily found support and understanding from other recent Korean immigrants. “When I first came, I didn’t know how to speak English,” Jin Hyuk said. “My Korean friends knew how to speak English and they would help me out a lot.”

Jin Hyuk also benefits from daily English as a Second Language (ESL) courses at GBS and can take advantage of on-site Korean-speaking social workers. As his English proficiency improves, Jin Hyuk would like to make white friends. He recently joined the school’s breakdancing club, B-Boys, whose members are mostly white. “It’s the first time I’m doing this,” he said. “It’s hard for me, but I’m doing this to make new friends and I want to learn how to dance.”

A Better Understanding

First generation Korean Americans, however, would be hard pressed to find classes on identity formation or cultural integration. For many, the initial options are to create an insular Korean American identity or to wholly assimilate into the dominant culture. The concentration of Korean Americans is high enough that some teenagers, like 17-year-old senior John Kwon, decide to reclaim their Korean heritage. “Right now, I feel more Korean and am comfortable as a Korean,” he said.

In junior high school, John had mostly white friends. But that’s because the school he attended, Springman Junior High, was predominantly white. He was able to form some Korean American friendships at that time while living briefly in an apartment complex where many Korean Americans lived. When he started high school, he decided to selectively socialize only with other Korean Americans.

John, who was born in Chicago and whose first language is English, distinguishes himself from those who are native Korean speakers and were born in Korea. “I’m different from them,” he said. “I can’t stand hanging out with people and only speaking Korean. I can speak it but it’s uncomfortable because I can’t speak it that well.”

Additionally, John feels an affinity with his Korean American friends that he does not share with his white peers. “Basically, we have the same interests and we understand each other better,” John said. “When we talk, we understand how our families are. Such as, how our parents are strict because they expect us to be smart. When I talk about it with Caucasian friends, they think it’s weird. I’m not really friends with Caucasians any more.”

Isolated Amongst Themselves

John’s attitude is not unusual. “In terms of culture, I think these students definitely are American,” Professor Min said. “They speak English and cannot speak Korean fluently, but in terms of social relations, they like to socialize with Koreans.” In 1995, Min conducted a study of Korean American high school juniors and seniors in New York. His study, “Asian Americans: Contemporary Trends and Issues,” showed that “descendents of post-1965 Asian immigrants will be characterized by a high level of cultural assimilation but at the same time by a high level of social ethnic attachment.”

And at GBS, there is a separation between foreign-born and U.S.-born Korean American students. They tend to only have friends in their own groups. “There’s a lot of diverse groups at GBS, but the Koreans and Hispanics tend to be very isolated,” Alice Kim said. “Everyone gets along with everyone else but the Korean population, the non-FOBs, [for “fresh off the boat”] always sit with each other, hang out and join clubs together. The FOBs don’t really interact with others at all.” Protected in part by the large number of Korean Americans at GBS, many of these students don’t feel the need to move beyond the familiar and routine.

"Why Don't You Have More Korean Friends?"

Of course, there are always exceptions such as Paul Kim, 16, a GBS sophomore. Paul, who was born in Chicago, has a few Korean American friends but spends most of his free time and weekends with white friends. “We go to the movies or go bowling,” Paul said. “A lot of the time, I am the only Korean in the group. They accept me. We joke around (about my being Korean.) Like, if someone pokes a joke at me, I’ll say, ‘You’re picking on the Asian guy,’” he said.

His parents often ask him why he doesn’t have more Korean friends. “They say to me, ‘you should be friends with your own kind,’” Paul said.

Like John Kwon, Paul has made a conscious choice about who his friends are. “I did make a choice but it’s kind of because I’m in a lot of situations where I’m the only Korean,” explains Paul. For example, Paul said that he is one of the few APA students active in student council. He also plays football. “I am almost the only Asian in the whole program.”

Interests aside, Paul also believes that his personality is more like his white friends. “What I see in a lot of Asian friends is that they are more quiet and keep more to themselves. I’m loud and funny and I don’t see a lot of that in the Asian crowd.”

Paul is aware that he’s known as a “Twinkie” — an Asian who hangs out with whites. “Most of the Asians that I see usually are all friends with each other. I think I am one of the few who is not. I don’t feel weird about it, I just feel that it is a decision I made.”

Not Just "Another" Asian

Nor is ethnicity an issue for everyone. Eighteen-year-old senior Jennifer “Jenna” Kim, doesn’t want to be identified by her race. Last year she transferred to GBS from a school in Wauconda, Ill. Initially, she felt uncomfortable about being Korean American in Wauconda, a small predominantly white community in northwest Illinois.

“At first there was a lot of racial discrimination with other students,” American-born Jenna said. “But after the first year or so, no one noticed or pointed me out as the Korean girl. They adjusted and I adjusted so it wasn’t too terrible.”

Her first year at GBS, she was struck by the large number of Asians. “Wow, there are so many Asians in this room,” she recalls thinking to herself. Opposed to cliques in general, Jenna wants to define herself on her own terms. “At GBS I see being Asian is a very exclusive thing and I am kind of turned off by it ... At first I thought I was the only one who noticed it but my white friends at GBS have pointed it out. They joke about the Korean section of the lunchroom. I don’t want to be looked at as just another one of those Asians.”

While most of Jenna’s close friends are Korean American, they are also her lifelong friends from church. Religion rather than ethnicity, provide the context for her relationships. “Because I go to a Korean church most of my closest friends are my Christian friends who happen to be Korean,” Jenna explained. “It’s not that my closest friends are Korean friends who happen to be Christian.”

Gradually, perceptions and identities change. For Korean American teenagers like Alice Kim, attending out-of-state leadership conferences and summer programs caused her to re-evaluate her sense of self and the world around her. Alice now finds her current environment too familiar and even stifling. “I almost wish I wasn’t in such a densely Korean community,” Alice said. “Glenview is like a bubble for Koreans ... such a comfort zone.” But isn’t that what teenagers always say about things once they’re ready to move on?