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