As physically unthreatening as my mother is, her verbal
artillery is quite intimidating.
After threatening to send me back to Asia if I limited myself to
befriending only Koreans, I became so fixated on being diverse that
I shied away from my own people.
Once I arrived at UCLA, however, my mother’s ominous
precautions kicked in as I scanned the diverse ““ yet
segregated ““ student body.
Groups of Asians huddled together, whites bunched in one
direction, Latinos walked in their own groups, and black students
clustered in another direction.
“How come people don’t try and diversify?”
Evan Shulman, a third-year cognitive science student, remembered
asking when he first arrived at UCLA.
There’s no doubt that negativity arises when people of
similar cultural identities and nationalities congregate ““
especially when it becomes exclusive.
But as I began to form more friendships with Koreans and joined
a Korean traditional music group on campus, I realized that
congregating into respective cultures is not such a bad thing after
all.
It develops and preserves cultural identity and allows people to
cope with challenges specific to their culture.
But I realized how less Korean I was compared to others when I
joined the organization. I didn’t integrate Korean vocabulary
into my everyday language, and I didn’t know how to crack
Korean jokes. Did this make me a terrible Korean, out of touch with
my roots, or was this a testament to my integration into American
society?
And the eternal question of “Am I more Korean or American?
How do I become both ““ as a Korean American?” kept
easing into my head.
Finding this balance between one’s native culture while
living in the U.S. provides motivation to congregate with people of
the same ethnicity.
“(Having) a group of friends in native tongue helps me
maintain my ethnic background,” said Kan Pang, a third-year
international economics student and activities director for the
Chinese Student Association.
Third-year biochemistry student Ruben Ordaz stays in touch with
his roots through the Latin American Student Association, where he
participates in merengue dancing and gets updates on Latin music
and TV shows.
He says it is easier to talk about these topics with other
Latinos than with people who do not share his heritage.
Prior to joining LASA and befriending Latinos, “I
wasn’t aware of what my culture had to offer,” Ordaz
said.
Besides preserving and developing cultural identity, people of
similar cultures can relate to common difficulties more
immediately.
Shulman remembered trying to help an Asian friend deal with
parents pressuring her to pursue science.
He indicated that it was difficult to fathom the situation since
he had never felt that from his own parents. He reasoned that his
friend could have received more helpful advice from friends of her
ethnicity who would have experienced similar circumstances.
Though Shulman questioned the lack of diversity when he first
arrived at UCLA, “I understand why people have groups
now,” he said.
Asian American studies lecturer Daniel Lee couldn’t agree
more. “If you talk to people with similar experiences, much
less explanations are necessary,” he said.
Lee also emphasized how “one of the purposes of college
education is to interact with people of different backgrounds and
values. You’re not getting as much educational experience by
limiting social interaction.”
That had been my mantra growing up. Only diversity can foster
true tolerance and personal growth.
However, contributing to diversity also requires knowing your
own culture. If people didn’t congregate to share and
solidify their cultures, we would be ignorant of our own
identities, and a diverse world would be nonexistent. And while new
and open experiences are exciting, it’s also nice to come
back to something familiar.
I realized how much I had forgotten Korea ““ the culture,
the people. I was reminded of this during a talk with my Korean
friend Hyelim Oh, a student at Palomar College.
“And you know that feeling, walking along Dongdaemun on a
crisp night, eating a warm boong-a-ppang, people packed to your
left and right, and you just feel so happy? I can’t explain
it ““ but you know,” she said.
She was right: No explanations were necessary. And at that
moment, I knew that as much as I am American, I had been Korean all
along.
If you know what a red-bean fish cake tastes like, e-mail
Yoo at jyoo@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to
viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.