"A racist? Me?"
After happily surviving and thriving in Korea for over 20 years, the label ‘racist’ was slung at me.
I had been hired as a consultant to advise Korean government officials on global business and cultural awareness. Having traveled, lived, and worked in more than 20 countries across three different continents, coming from a multicultural background, being well-read in cultural awareness, and embracing inclusivity, diversity, and equality, I was confident that my personal insights, experience, and research-backed data would be well received.
We were discussing the differences between Western and Eastern perspectives. If you’ve ever read the book “The Geography of Thought,” you know it covers how cultural differences influence the way people think and perceive the world.
We were talking about leadership, and I commented that one student, having lived in the US, exhibited a more Western style of leadership—taking charge, acting decisively, and being more assertive. Positive discussions occurred and questions were raised. All normal. Ticking along nicely. But when I mentioned to another student that, based on what she had shared in discussions, she seemed to adopt a more Eastern approach to leadership, and that she seemed to value harmony and leaned toward consensus, her voice and demeanor changed.
I still remember the anger in her eyes and the way her mouth contorted and twisted right before she theatrically exited the group Zoom call. I felt a deep sense of unease. I knew something had caused her a great deal of distress. I felt sick to my stomach. Initially, the other students were surprised. Some not so much (I later learned that she was notoriously sensitive, that she did not like having her authority questioned and that no one said anything because she higher in the hieararchy).
After the call, I reached out to her and was met with a barrage of messages accusing me of racism. She asserted that I, as a foreigner, had no right to comment on Korea, Korean culture, or Korean business practices. She demanded my dismissal and took to social media, seeking support for her opinion of me. She found little.
I sought solutions to ease my confusion. I consulted local lawyers, other expats, and even the Canadian Ambassador to Korea at the time, hoping to understand Korea’s stance on racism, multiculturalism, and slander. Even the Korean consulting company I worked for told me to forget it and ignore her.
I thought, “Why would I live and work in Korea, raise two Korean-Canadian kids, learn the language, and immerse myself in the culture if I were a racist?” And “How did she define the word ‘racist’?” It didn’t make sense. Truth be told, her words stung me to the core. I lost my motivation to discuss ‘culture’ and that is not easy to do in cultural awareness training sessions. The biggest lesson/reminder I learned is that, as an outsider in a homogeneous culture, you will always be on the outside and there is no room at the table for your opinions on Korea.
Clearly it had more to do with her than it did with me. But then it happened again. I was teaching a business class at a Korean university and touched on topics like Kkondae (꼰대) (a condescending person), worabel (워라밸) (work-life balance), the Sam-po generation (삼포세대) or the N-po generation (N포세대), the generation that gave up seven things : romantic relationships, marriage, children, social relationships, a house, dreams, and hope. Post-class evaluations rang the bells of ‘racist’ again. One student wrote, ‘the professor should not talk about Korea’. Even if 99.9% of the comments were positive about me, the contents and the class, the university only reacted to the 0.1%. I now keep a record of the positive comments I get in emails and text messages as proof!
These were harsh and saddening experiences that caused me to reflect deeply and review my approach. I pointed out that the views expressed in the articles were not mine and that the journal articles and newspapers were written by Koreans. In the end, justifying every culturally-tinged comment with a ‘see the link below’ felt contrived and I decided to give up teaching a topic that I love.
This experience taught me the importance of continuous self-reflection and sensitivity in cultural discussions. It underscored the need to approach cultural awareness with humility, open eyes and an open mind, recognizing that even with the best intentions, misunderstandings can arise. Even though I only share my opinions and experiences on and in Korea in safe-judgment-free zones, I am committed to fostering genuine understanding and respect, ensuring that cultural bridges are built, not burned. Korea has a long way to go before it becomes a truly multicultural country, I, and many others like me, remain brave enough to forge a path for a more inclusive and enlightened Korea.
