8 March 2-8, 2023 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents Asian food now.’ As we got older, we were able to differentiate and say we wanted Korean food.” Aly started frequenting restaurants in Carrollton Kore- atown in high school, and during her time in college, she and her friends would camp out at Korean barbecue restaurants for hours, grazing on the food while they studied. The hours spent at these restaurants naturally made her familiar with the Korean music that was playing there, and she began looking up the songs she liked. Though she was instantly hooked on the K-pop bands she was discovering, she felt the need to put off fully diving into the fandom. She describes this newfound interest like one would describe an unexpected romance. “I wasn’t ready to be emotionally attached to something,” she says matter-of-factly. “I didn’t have the financial support to be able to follow these concerts and tours.” The pandemic led to many workers questioning how much of their time and energy they should be dedicating to their jobs. “The Great Resignation” and “quiet quitting” are just a couple terms used to describe how people are re-evalu- ating their work-life balance. Aly was part of this movement. She quit her consulting job to find work that fulfilled her. With her schedule suddenly clear, Aly found more time to do what she loved. And one thing she loved was learning languages. She already spoke French and Arabic and had always been fascinated by what languages teach us about foreign cultures. At that time, her brother was an international relations major at George Washington University. When he had a for- eign language requirement to fulfill, the siblings decided to learn the same language together so they could practice with each other. They had already grown up on Korean food, so diving into the language together felt like the natural choice. Colleges in North Texas that offered Korean language classes were few, and the classes that did exist filled up quickly. Aly looked toward the Dallas Korean community for alterna- tives, noting that Korean people she knew had been sent to classes growing up just as her family had sent her to Arabic school. Surely, there was a local program that would take her. Pressure Makes Diamonds T he New Korean School of Dallas aims to teach more than a language. While classes are open to everyone, the institution was initially established as a resource for the local Korean-American community, a place where second- or third-generation immigrants, adoptees and peo- ple of mixed race could connect with their heritage. “We’re not just teaching the language,” says board mem- ber and organization treasurer Mia Kim. “We have inte- grated our culture, heritage, history and also family values.” When the school first opened, it didn’t offer adult classes. That quickly changed when organizers recognized the de- mand. Fellow board member and secretary Hyejin Chung notes that while Korean culture dates back thousands of years and has always had meaningful things to contribute, the social media age has allowed people from all over the world to embrace the country’s media like never before. “The timing is right,” Chung says of Korean media domi- nating American pop culture. “The movies are doing great. The K-pop is doing great. Our literature is very great. I think that’s the next to go.” And this widespread love of Korean media is driving throngs of non-Korean North Texans to take up classes. “We have a value to deliver,” Chung says. “And in order to appreciate the value, you have to learn the language.” For the board members of The New Korean School of Dallas, Korea’s growing cultural presence didn’t simply come out of nowhere, nor is it merely a flash in the pan. It’s the culmination of a tireless, multi-generational effort, a la- bor of love to show the world what they already know to be true about their culture. Chung and Kim describe the work ethic that’s ingrained in the people of Korea, the same used across generations to proudly build up their country from scratch after it was dec- imated during World War II and the Korean War. Every- thing from their food to their technology to, of course, their pop music is imbued with an intense dedication to quality. Chung acknowledges that while Korea often presents a glamorous and aspirational lifestyle, it’s important to re- member that the culture was essentially built by workahol- ics and perfectionists. She affectionately refers to them as “pressure-cooker people.” What unites the “pressure-cooker people” of previous generations and the TikTok beauty influencers today is an acute awareness that this is Korea’s time. Decades of work have led to this moment, and Koreans are rising to the occa- sion. Boy bands may come and go, but Korea’s influence as a cultural force is here to stay. This sentiment is echoed by Aly as she describes her ex- perience at the school. “Learning about the history made me understand the Ko- rean people a lot more,” she says of the cultural values imbed- ded in her lessons. “Language learning brings people closer together, and I think that’s something we need more than ever.” When describing her classmates, Aly first mentions the ex- pected crowd: fangirls who want to understand the lyrics to their favorite songs, whom she describes as “K-pop girlies.” But she makes it clear they were far from the majority. One classmate was a man adopted from Korea as a baby, now mar- ried to a Korean woman and raising two kids, learning about his heritage for the first time as an adult. Another was a mid- dle aged “cowboy-type” with a thick Southern drawl. The more advanced the class, the more diverse the student body. Aly had intended for some time to teach in Korea and was preparing to take an exam that would place her in one of its public schools. Her current job at a private academy landed in her lap when her predecessor got pregnant. She had been studying for less than a year at that point and was far from fluent, but it felt like the right time to make that leap. Nine months in, she’s more comfortable with day-to-day in- teractions. Though she doesn’t know what her long-term ca- reer goals are, Aly plans to teach in Korea for another year to build up her proficiency. She ironically notes that though she doesn’t have a formal degree in education, her opera training — the less conventionally practical of her two SMU degrees — gives her an advantage while teaching diction to her students. Having now lived in Korea, Aly finds that it’s the ingenu- ity of the people that ultimately draws in outsiders. Foodie that she is, she uses the example of a Korean dish that gained popularity after the wars. Food was scarce at the time, and Koreans found a surplus of processed foods from the U.S. military bases. Frankfurt sausage, American cheese and Spam were recurring ingredients. The result was budae jj- igae (army stew), and it’s a staple in Korea to this day. To Aly, this is just one example of Koreans always making the most of what they have: “They take a food we don’t see much fla- vor or meaning in and transform it.” Army stew perfectly sums up the appeal of Korean culture and why it leads so many people past the surface level of pop culture and entertainment. It’s the unyielding commitment to quality, the mindset that can turn Spam into a delicacy or a strip mall into a vibrant cultural hub, compelling K-fans to do whatever it takes to get a little closer to it, even if it means learning a new language. Even if it means crossing the ocean. While Chung and her colleagues at the New Korean School of Dallas aren’t surprised that the culture they love has found a broad appeal, they are flattered nonetheless. “They are very open-minded,” Chung says of the Ameri- cans who are drawn to Korean culture. “It’s not like, ‘You’re a small country and we’re a big country so we don’t care.’ It’s not like that.” On Jan. 13, the city of Dallas took a step toward formally recognizing its own Koreatown by installing bilingual street signs at Royal Lane and Harry Hines. This comes less than a year after a hate-motivated shooting at a Korean-owned hair salon off Harry Hines. This attack was part of the growing trend of violence and discrimination aimed at Asian-Ameri- cans since the start of the pandemic. The Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism re- ported a 150% increase in hate crimes against Asians in 2020. This lead to an ongoing series of protests nationwide that have come to be known as the “Stop Asian Hate” movement. The new street signs serve as a poignant reminder that despite those who may view it as a fad (or even as a threat), Korean culture is a permanent and positive influence on the city. “They’re not on the other side of the world. They’re here. They’re not strangers. They’re members of our community,” Aly says about what she hopes people learn while diving into Korean culture, whether for the music, food or language. “Korean culture is here to stay. It’s not going anywhere.” Culture from p6 Carly May Gravley Helen Kim handles a traditional Korean drum used for school culture lessons. Right: Koreatown in Carrollton. Carly May Gravley
