On my laptop, you’ll find
a bookmarked folder labeled
“Beauty,” which is completely
filled with articles on KBeauty —
Korean Beauty, for short. You’ll
see that my skincare and makeup
routine is made up of only Korean
products and that my email inbox
is cluttered with newsletters from
Soko Glam, a U.S. website that
curates KBeauty products, and
the Klog, a KBeauty blog. Suffice
to say, you’ll probably come to the
conclusion that I am a Kbeauty
obsessive, and you’d be correct.
I’ve used KBeauty for about
three years now, but it wasn’t until
last year that I became aware of
the deeply entrenched colorism
that is present in KBeauty — and
in other Asian beauty products
as well. This manifests itself
most clearly in skin-whitening
products,
products
that
are
marketed, mostly toward women,
to encourage them to run after
a colorist, dangerous beauty
standard of having lighter skin.
It can hide itself in less obvious
products
as
well,
products
that aren’t explicitly marketed
toward whitening one’s skin.
The key is an ingredient known
as hydroquinone, which I found
in a product that did not include
any packaging about being skin-
whitening; when I had bought it, I
was not aware of this ingredient or
that it was used in skin-whitening
products. Once I learned about it,
I stopped using the product.
This ingredient, and more
explicit skin-whitening products,
don’t just perpetuate a certain
white American and European
beauty standard, but can also
be incredibly harmful to those
who use them. Physically, it
can lead to intense cystic acne
and irreversible skin thinning;
mentally, it can make one feel less
adequate, less human for being
deemed “too dark.”
KBeauty
has
also
lagged
behind in what’s been called the
“Fenty effect,” after Rihanna’s
beauty line that has gained
acclaim for its numerous (40!
shades!) and inclusive shades for
all women, not just white women.
Meanwhile,
many
KBeauty
products often only offer five or
six shades, sometimes even as low
as three.
One could argue that South
Korea doesn’t have as many
black and brown folks living
in the country, and that is why
they have limited shades. While
that’s certainly true, it doesn’t
account for the fact that KBeauty
has exploded in the U.S. and
elsewhere, where there are many
black and brown folks, and many
who are making their mark in
the beauty industry and world. If
KBeauty companies know their
products are extremely popular to
users outside of South Korea, then
they must take into account the
varying shades of all people.
All of this points to the history
and continuation of colorism
within South Korea, as well as in
many other Asian countries and
Asian American communities.
Historically,
Koreans
with
tanner or slightly darker skin
were associated with the poor
and farm work, which was often
looked down upon because they
were not part of the nobility. The
valorization and fetishization of
white skin dates as far back as
the Gojoseon era, and European
and
American
imperialism
certainly didn’t help matters in
the perpetuation of colorism,
either. Today, South Korea leads
in cosmetic surgery, and many,
many people find ways to lighten
their skin.
So why do I still buy from
KBeauty companies? I avoid
the skin-whitening products, of
course. But when I began my foray
into KBeauty a few years ago, it
was because I wanted to clear up
my skin (which I recognize is a
beauty standard / norm that I am
still wrestling with) and because
a part of me believed that this
would be a way for me to feel more
authentically Korean American,
never mind the fact that there
isn’t just one way of being
“authentically” Korean American.
A part of me still believes that,
and it is something that I am still
wrestling with as well.
But there is also some evidence
that KBeauty companies are
following in the footsteps of those
who have widened the beauty
industry to be more inclusive for
people of color. There are a few
KBeauty brands that, while they
certainly don’t have as many as
Rihanna’s 40 shades, have more
than what is normally seen in
many KBeauty products. It’s
certainly a start — and yet, there is
so much more room to grow.
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
Monday, April 1, 2019 — 3A
Application Deadline: April 15th
msfe.illinois.edu
Do you have a background in Math, Engineering, or Computer Science?
You Could Have a Future in Financial Engineering at Illinois!
From those who chased it, to those who nurtured it, to those who fulfilled it, I wanted to understand how these three words shaped each generation in my
family, and what it meant to each one of us through our greatest successes and regrets.
Accomplishment: “My greatest
achievement
in
my
eighty-
something years of life…It was
also the cause of my greatest
challenges, but it would be
coming to America. My early
years of life in Korea was poor...
Dirt poor. I didn’t have electricity,
my clothes were cheap, and
daily life was mediocre. A
sustainable life was unheard of
– a strange concept to me back
then – but when I heard about
the opportunities and almost
fantasy-like tales of America, I
just had to. It was my dream…
for myself, more for my children.
But achieving that dream was
difficult in itself… when we made
payments to come to America
by plane, we never expected the
hardships that followed us. I
was in my thirties, not knowing
the language or culture, with
no knowledge in navigating
the Los Angeles streets. I was a
mere house painter, while your
grandmother worked in a sewing
factory - pause - But it was worth
it. The dream, it was worth it.”
Regret: “My greatest regret
is the most obvious one – which
I failed to realize back then –
was not learning how to speak
English. I came with the mindset
that we were too old to adopt
a new language… And plus,
working non-stop at various
blue-collar jobs didn’t give me
time to sit down and open a book
to learn English. I was too busy.
At the same time, I assumed
that my kids, who went to public
American schools back then,
would help me if I ran into any
issues with my broken English.
I didn’t realize that even though
we lived in Koreatown – the
neighbors spoke Korean, the
restaurants were all Korean,
even the dogs that roamed the
streets were of that Korean jindo
kind – everything was still in
English. Looking back, it caused
a lot of misunderstandings and
problems in my life, even to the
point where I had lost money.”
Eating out used to be a
delicacy. I once longed for the
rare weekends when my family
would go out to a restaurant like
Olive Garden or even a fast food
chain like Taco Bell. I shake my
head when I remember how I
once gagged at the food my mom
spent hours preparing for us.
Home-cooked Gujarati meals
— the same meals I rejected
years ago by sticking out my
tongue — is now a blessing I’m
rarely afforded, but it’s one that
I humbly accept when I get the
chance. The presence of spice
and a distinct savory scent
dominates my taste buds and
nostrils where the bland pizza
and salads of the dining halls
don’t even stir me.
Yet Gujarati food is more than
just something that feels good
to eat. It’s through these foods,
these spices and these smells
that I remain connected to who
I am and where I come from. For
as much as my language skills
may deteriorate, my religious
beliefs may lose conviction,
and my family members may
become distant, what binds all of
this together is an appreciation
for the cuisine. I speak Gujarati
with precision while asking my
grandma about the dhokla she
cooked. My parents tell me the
importance of giving prasad as
an offering to the Hindu deities.
My cousins and I can always
bond at the dinner table as we
eat rice and daal.
As my conception of being
Gujarati continues to fall apart,
food is the constant that keeps
me grounded in my culture and
my upbringing. When I warm
up food from my mom in the
microwave, the smell reminds
me of the time and care she
puts into feeding her two sons.
When I open up the fridge to
grab a container, I see my dad
carefully filling those containers
and handing them to me. When
I take a bite, I flashback to my
grandma feeding it to me as a
toddler who couldn’t even hold
a spoon.
Indian food is more than
just sustenance: It is a cultural
element
that
sustains
my
connection with my family and
my identity. No matter how
well I abide to the standards
of being Gujarati or an Indian-
American, I remain confident
that our food will be like a
trail of breadcrumbs. Should I
choose to follow it, I will find
contentment with my future
cultural
engagement
while
being able to look back and
remember where I came from.
Whenever a relative from
India
can’t
understand
my
broken Gujarati and says to just
speak English, the thought comes
up. Whenever I go to mandir
to pray and don’t know what to
say or think, the thought comes
up. Whenever an international
student from the Motherland
makes an offhand comment
about how I’m not really Indian,
the thought comes up.
I think that I’m not Indian. I
think that I’m a first generation
college student who can never
know his culture as well as his
parents. I can’t ever be a real
Hindu. I can’t maintain the
traditions my family tried to
preserve and instill in me. I’m
not Indian.
Reconciling an Indian cultural
background with an American
upbringing is a moment-to-
moment
struggle.
When
I
introduce myself to someone, I
stutter. Should I say my name
the way I’ve said it my whole
life? Or should I say it the way
my family and any Indian person
says it? Either way feels wrong.
I don’t even try to speak Hindi,
and when I try to make small
talk in Gujarati with family,
they just end up switching to
English anyway to accomodate
my bumbling demeanor. Even
though my identity on most
documents is Indian American,
the second identifier feels more
prevalent than the first.
Despite the vast cultural divide
I feel among relatives, there
is a response to this notion of
Indian-ness. Not only is there no
explicit rulebook dictating what
it means to be Indian, but it’s not
necessary either to try and group
yourself into these one size fits all
monoliths. Being Indian should
not come at the expense of my
own sense of self. I can care about
Indian culture without beating
myself up over not abiding by
arbitrary nonexistent guidelines.
What’s more useful to focus on
is my own personal identity.
I don’t have to say I’m Indian
or American or any particular
binary label for identity. What I
can use to identify myself is my
appreciation for Indian culture,
whether that is the food, the
celebrations, or my family. I
can
consider
my
American
upbringing
without
feeling
guilty too. Being in this country
has cultivated within me a sense
of individualism, an appreciation
for different cultures, and a
pursuit of knowledge that make
me thankful and proud to have
grown up here. I am an Indian-
American, and I don’t have to
keep on questioning what it
means to be one. I’m already
doing what is right.
Generation One: Chasers of the American
Dream | Son Tae Shik (85) Translated from
Korean.
Generation
Two:
Nurturers
of
the
American Dream | Son Kyung-il (53)
Generation
Three:
Fulfilment
of
the
American Dream | Son Haneur (19)
Accomplishment:
“My
greatest
achievement
- chuckle - would be my
children – you guys. I can’t
even comprehend my ability
to love someone, the fact that
I’m able to have that much
love for someone. Whatever
[my
two
daughters]
do,
I
always
feel
proud…
You’ll
become
a
parent
and understand… To see
them grow with abundant
opportunities, to see them
adopt two different cultures,
it’s a blessing. That would
be my biggest achievement
– to build our life here so
that it would be enough for
my two daughters… If I lose
everything, it doesn’t matter.
I have my family by my side.
That’s why I’m happy. As
long as I have my children.”
Regret: “Hmm.. regrets?
This one is tough… I would
say I regret my habit of
avoidance. What I mean
to say is that I used to
constantly flee from my
problems.
Relational
problems,
problems
at
school, or at work… I tried
to escape, rather than face
them. When I was young,
especially
after
coming
right to America, there was
the issue of language and
adjusting… I was already
17 when I arrived here…
I remember when I got
rejected from college, they
offered me a chance to
appeal. I thought it was too
much work so I decided to go
to a college that just accepted
me instead… Because I kept
hiding from my fears, every
time these same problems
would occur over and over
again,
they
were
every
bit discouraging and self-
hindering. I wish I had been
more bold back then, wish I
had the courage to be more
proactive… but it’s still never
too late to change my habit,
even now.”
Accomplishment:
“I
can’t
say I’ve accomplished quite
a lot in my 19 years of life, but
my greatest accomplishment
so far… as predictable as this
may be, would be college.
Being accepted and going to
a university may seem like a
almost-shallow, societal metric
of how “well” you’re playing the
game of life. But reflecting back
on the previous interviews with
my parents and grandparents, I
know this “achievement” hasn’t
been on my own, but decades in
the making. What makes this
so important to me is that my
grandmother never received
any form of college education.
My grandfather attended a local
college, only to spend his life as
a house painter. My father and
mother were able to attend state
colleges, despite their language
barrier and underprivileged
households.
My
education
means the world to me because
not only am I learning for
myself, but on behalf of my
family who has gotten me to
this point in life…I had selfishly
assumed this opportunity – or
gift – of education should have
been given to me, but now I am
eternally grateful for it.”
Regret: “My regret – and also
my motivator – is not realizing
this sooner. I remember going
through a stage of “I can’t
wait to leave my family and
become independent,” hence
my
decision
of
choosing
Michigan. But now I’ve wished
I spent more time with them,
with
greater
appreciation
and understanding of their
hardships. It’s so easy to assume
their lives were as cushioned as
mine – since the world I was
born into, and only ever known
is what they have provided me
with. As I look to the future,
I’m encouraged and excited to
take use of all the chances I’ve
been given, because that’s what
my parents – and grandparents
– have struggled long and hard
for.”
KAYLEAH SON
MiC Columnist
ARJUN THAKKAR
MiC Columnist
ARJUN THAKKAR
MiC Columnist
Three Generations
Gujarati food: The spices
that bind a culture together
Reconciling with identity: Stop
worrying about how to be Indian
Three-generations impacted by three words: The American Dream.
MONICA KIM
MiC Columnist
Korean beauty and colorism