In this synthesis essay, I juxtapose Ibrahim’s (2009) characterization of social imaginary (p. 177) in the African immigrant in the North American ESL context with the social imaginary that I perceived to be present in the Korean EFL context in which I taught for 9 years.. A social imaginary can be defined as a non-idealistic interpretation of one's cultural standing based not only on perceptual truths but also on the intangible cultural norms, attitudes and expectations (i.e. racialization) of a particular society. Here, I discuss how the racialization of native-English-speaking teachers (NESTs) in Korea can change their self-identity, and how stereotyping from both sides of the teacher-student relationship can affect obedience in the classroom and subsequently alter classroom dynamics. Finally, I offer some tips for improving cross-cultural communication and minimizing the effects of racialization to promote successful teaching and learning.

The Effects of “Becoming Black” on Acquisition of English by African Immigrants in North America

Ibrahim (2009) tackles a number of issues on “identity formation processes” and their relevance to second language acquisition (p. 177). He focuses attention on the oft-ignored issue of racewithin societal macro structures. In particular, he describes how second language (L2) learners’ views of race are constantly changing due to ongoing construction of microidentities. His conclusion is that African immigrant students in North America align with the popular Black hip-hop culture, not just through choice (although solidarity is an important factor) but also through societal imposition—a direct result of their “racialization” through the eyes of a hegemonic society in which skin colour is a social and racial marker (p. 178). Thus, these students may be considered “Black English as a Second Language (BESL)” learners, and their dialogue and dialects reflect this “social imaginary” (p. 177). So, rather than being influenced by traditional ESL texts, they are impacted more by the popular culture of Black America and consequently acquire Black stylized English (BSE) as their L2 of choice.

Racialization of NESTs in Korea

In the Korean educational context, it would seem that identity-formation processes occurring within teacher-student relationships are strongly influenced by race and nationality. There is conflict between the “Self” (Ibrahim, 2009, p. 177; i.e., Koreanness) and the “Other” (p. 177; i.e., Westernness) with regards to obedience. Stereotyping on the part of westerners—what Said (1978) called Orientalism—can lead to disappointment and frustration in NESTs who are expecting classes full of über-polite and diligent students.

This conflict is also due in equal part to “Korean students’ expectations of freedom based on their stereotypes of western teachers” (J.H. Robinson, personal communication, March 13, 2013). Thus, inversely, this may be referred to as Occidentalism (Carrier, 1995). For example, NESTs of Korean descent, known as gyopo, often feel discriminated against in the Korean EFL job market and are held to higher standards of Koreannessthan their White counterparts (Wiggin, 2010).

Both Orientalism and Occidentalism are forms of what Ibrahim (2009) denotes as racialization, or “racism without race” (p. 179). This “racial lumping” is a form of de-ethnicization (p. 178). It creates a sense of otherness within a particular group which, in turn, creates new identities (p. 179). This process of racialization was to become a pervasive theme throughout my time spent teaching EFL in South Korea.

More often than not, I heard Black NESTs being wrongly labeled as Apeurika-saram or “Africans” by Korean students, while White NESTs in Korea, such as myself, were often incorrectly referred to as miguk saram or “Americans.” The latter misappellation, given by strangers, acquaintances, students, and colleagues alike, is an umbrella-term that tends to be used for all Whites regardless of their nationality or ethnicity. As a British citizen, I would often have to correct my Korean students and colleagues when they referred to me as such. Still, the differentiation did not usually seem to register as important or meaningful to them. To many Koreans, Westerners are Americans. This is perhaps not surprising given the strong influence of American culture on South Korea ever since their alliance during the Korean War.

Living With “New Identities” as NESTs in Korea

Consequently, in the same way that Ibrahim (2009) describes the “psychic and phenomenological event” (p. 184) that occurs for African immigrants in North America with regards to “becoming Black,” one may argue that NESTs in Korea also enter a kind of social imaginary. According to Ibrahim’s definition, a social imaginary is “a discursive space in which [one is] already imagined [and] constructed” (p. 177). Similarly, it is my belief that the exterior social pressures in Korea cause foreign teachers to align with one another and form new microidentities as migook-in/waygook-in (Americans/foreigners). Indeed, my own perception of Self was changed in response to these social mores, and my inherent Britishness became secondary to my native-English-speaker teacherness (or Americanness in the eyes of many Koreans). In my experience, there were both positive and negative effects of this social imaginary.

From a positive viewpoint, there was a tremendous sense of camaraderie and solidarity among NESTs in Korea. I have never before or since felt such a strong sense of identity as part of a collective entity. This racialization of foreign teachers in Korea is intensified by the fact that NESTs form one of the largest groups of aliens residing in Korea. According to Lee (2010) the number is around 22,000, which in terms of “western” foreigners, is only secondary to the number of U.S military personnel (about 29,000). Indeed, westerners in Korea can usually identify another westerner on the street as a soldier or a teacher. Amongst NESTs from all of the government-approved Anglo-speaking nations (i.e., the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Ireland, and South Africa) there exists a sense of oneness and belonging.

On the other hand, the negative impact of this social imaginary is that there is a detachment from one’s ethnic ancestry. It can be frustrating for NESTs to have their idiosyncratic national/cultural identities stripped in favour of grossly generalised stereotypes. I was asked by employers on a number of occasions to teach with an American accent as if that were an easy thing to do. I understand the historical and geopolitical reason for wanting to learn American English, but why hire a Brit, or an Australian, or a South African, and expect this? To be honest, I was lucky to find teaching positions, because my accent often prevented me from getting the jobs that I wanted (even though I have a relatively neutral standard Southern British English accent). In my very first teaching job, I was actually told that I was to be replaced with a North American teacher because of my accent. Ironically, the school hired a French Canadian teacher who presumably spoke English with a much more digestible accent than this Englishman! Also, it was to my constant chagrin that long-term students of mine would still seem to regard me as quintessentially American despite constant reminders that I was actually from England. A lack of interest in the distinction troubled me somewhat over the years.

Now, it is clear to me that I was suffering from one the effects of Occidentalism—essentialization; that is, an American accent is regarded as an essential trait of NESTs in Korea and white skin is regarded as an essential trait of Americans. Of course, this is just the reverse of what many Asians experience when coming to the West. As a consequence of Orientalism, many people wrongly assume that Chinese, Korean, Japanese, and other Asian languages are mutually intelligible and that the various ethnic cultures and physical appearances of Asian peoples are indistinguishable.

More serious than issues of accentedness and mistaken identity, NESTs in Korea tend to get “tarred with the same brush” whenever a particular individual or group of NESTs commit a misdemeanor that finds its way into the national news, and ultimately into the public psyche. Lee (2010) reports that anti-NEST groups, such as Citizens of Right Education, have formed with an insidious agenda to “rid the county of foreign, unqualified teachers.” Sadly, in my time in Korea, I experienced firsthand more than my fair share of animosity of a verbal and physical nature that seemed to stem from stereotypes of migook-in/waygook-in. In the same way that African-Americans receive negative stereotyping in the United States (Ibrahim, 2009), NESTs in Korea may be branded with disparaging labels such as “unqualified,” “insincere,” “lazy,” “morally reprehensible,” “licentious,” “warmongers,” “imperialists,” and so on. The latter two labels are direct results of the heavy American military presence on the peninsula, but they are often applied to all NESTs regardless of ethnicity or political affiliation.

Needless to say, these types of denigration belittle the sterling work done by the many truly passionate and dedicated NESTs in Korea with whom I have had the good fortune to work. I remember once having a conversation with a Korean colleague and friend of mine at a well-known K–6 Korean elementary school/Korean Language Centre in Singapore. He said that he was saddened and angered by the fact that there were so many NESTs in Korea who had no qualifications in teaching ESL. I swiftly pointed out to him that the Korean government only requires that teachers have a bachelor’s degree from an English-speaking nation, and so, in the eyes of the law, they are not unqualified. Furthermore, I reminded him that he was teaching Korean as a foreign language in Singapore without any appropriate qualification to do so apart from being a native Korean speaker. The point was duly noted.

Obedience in the Korean EFL Classroom Context

From my experience, NESTs often feel disadvantaged in the EFL classroom in comparison to their Korean colleagues, because they do not receive the same level (or type) of obedience from students. Obedience to one's superiors is a very important Korean cultural concept which has its roots in Confucianism (Robinson, 1988). Unlike Korean teachers, NESTs may have a hard time receiving bokjong, which in Korean means the sort of automatic respect earned through fear of consequences and intimidation by seniors and authority figures (p. 9). However, through professionalism and passionate teaching, I believe that NESTs arelikely to receive sunjong, which is “obedience for love or loyalty” (p. 9).

The perceived obedience imbalance between Korean teachers and NESTs may be particularly striking due to the fact that most new NESTs have preconceived misconceptions about the level of obedience that they should expect based upon stereotypical expectations that the rules of Confucian culture will be automatically applied to them. Of course, one can argue that in an impartial and xenophilic society, they should be, but one must also understand that the rules of Confucianism perhaps only apply to those who have actually grown up in the society and undergone the same rigours. In this view, bokjong is in fact not automatic but earned. It is earned by members of society who at one time also had to show bokjong, as well as sunjong, to their superiors. Thus, Korean students may feel a commonality with their Korean teachers which they do not feel with their NESTs.

I should point out here that the inequalities mentioned thus far with regards to the obedience of students are not just a Korean phenomenon, but are probably experienced by foreign teachers in many contexts worldwide. In fact, I remember from my own schooldays, somewhat regrettably, a German teacher (who actually taught us French) who definitely had quite a hard time receiving the respect she undoubtedly deserved!

Korean students may not show bokjong to their NESTs because they are influenced by the relative freedoms that they associate with American egalitarianism. Therefore, there may be a cultural clash between the American concepts of rights and individualism and the Korean concepts of deference and collectivism. The stereotypes of American culture that pervade social consciousness and the media may motivate Korean students to embark upon a form of self-imposed“cultural decompression” (Robinson, 1980, p. 3). In this way, their NESTs may become outlets of expressions of freedom and inhibition in an otherwise rigorously-stratified and emotionally-demanding educational environment. For instance, in a NEST’s classroom, students may be more likely to litter, chatter, and raise their voices, and be less likely to pay attention, stay in their seats, and do their homework.

What Should NESTs Do?

The NEST in Korea has a difficult choice of whether to encourage the freedom of expression of his or her students in a more lax and “fun” EFL classroom environment while employing a more western style of classroom management in the form of covert authority, or try to emulate the more disciplined and structured classroom environment of a typical Korean classroom using a more domestic style of overt authority.

Ideally, I would suggest that NESTs try to find a balance between the two extremes. Such a compromise may be accepted more readily by students than trying to push the envelope too far in either direction. In addition, NESTS of different nationalities may promote their own specific ethnic and cultural identities (and thus reverse the process of de-ethnicization) by teaching students and colleagues about their home countries and identities through classroom lessons, activities, workshops, and cultural-awarenessevents.

Certainly, it would be helpful for new NESTs arriving in Korea to be informed about the status quo. They should not expect their students to show them automatic respect, or bokjong. However, they can be encouraged by the fact that it is possible to have an obedient classroom based on sunjong. From my experience, establishing good relationships with one’s Korean colleagues, as well as displaying professionalism and dedication to lesson planning, can help NESTs to realise sunjong among their students.

Furthermore, I strongly recommend that NESTs in Korea (and indeed in any country) learn the language, as this can really help a teacher to earn the respect of his or her students and colleagues. It is interesting to note though that the speaking of Korean in the NEST’s classroom is typically discouraged by Korean employers and parents. However, based on my own teaching experiences as well as evidence in scholarly research,on the benefits of knowing the L1 (e.g. Han, 2005; Mart, 2013), I firmly believe that the ability of NESTs to understand the language and culture of their students (especially beginners/very young learners) and co-teachers is not just useful but essential for making a positive impact inside and outside the classroom.

Finally, as the Korean government continually toughens laws relating to NEST immigration and hiring, some of the less flattering social epithets applied to foreign teachers may, over time, be rescinded as a new generation of highly trained and qualified L2 educators enter EFL classrooms throughout the nation.

References

Carrier, J. G. (Ed.). (1995). Occidentalism: Images of the West. Oxford, England: Clarendon Press.

Han, S.-A. (2005). Good teachers know where to scratch when learners feel itchy: Korean learners' views of native-speaking teachers of English. Australian Journal of Education, 49, 197–213.

Ibrahim, A. (2009). Operating under erasure: Race/language/identity. In R. Kubota & A. Lin (Eds.), Race, culture, and identities in second language education (pp. 176–194). New York, NY: Routledge.

Lee, J. (2010 February 3). Animosity against English teachers in Seoul. Global Post. Retrieved from http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/south-korea/100122/english-teachers-seoul-racism?page=0,1

Mart, C. T. (2013). The facilitating role of L1 in ESL classes. International Journal of Academic Research in Business and Social Sciences, 3(1), 9–14.

Robinson, J. H. (1980). Spare the rod and spoil the culture: Cultural discontinuity in Korea. Korea Quarterly, 2(1), 6–20.

Robinson, J. H. (1988). Linguistic, cultural & educational contexts of Korea. In I. Davies (Ed.), The Korea papers: Profile in educational exchange (p. 23). Washington, DC: National Association for Foreign Student Affairs.

Said, E. (1978). Orientalism. New York, NY: Pantheon Books.

Wiggin, T. (2010, February 14). South Korea's complicated embrace of gyopo. Los Angeles Times. Retrieved from http://articles.latimes.com/2010/feb/14/world/la-fg-korea-return14-2010feb14.