Asian-Americans Must Adopt English Names -OR- Rep. Betty Brown is a Racist

At least that's what a conservative Texas lawmaker wants.

AUSTIN — A North Texas legislator during House testimony on voter identification legislation said Asian-descent voters should adopt names that are “easier for Americans to deal with.”

The comments caused the Texas Democratic Party on Wednesday to demand an apology from state Rep. Betty Brown, R-Terrell. But a spokesman for Brown said her comments were only an attempt to overcome problems with identifying Asian names for voting purposes.

The exchange occurred late Tuesday as the House Elections Committee heard testimony from Ramey Ko, a representative of the Organization of Chinese Americans.

Ko told the committee that people of Chinese, Japanese and Korean descent often have problems voting and other forms of identification because they may have a legal transliterated name and then a common English name that is used on their driver’s license on school registrations.

Names that are "easier for Americans to deal with", huh? By making this statement she is essentially classifying what is and isn't "American".This line in the sand is dangerously alienating to huge groups of Americans.

Does she see American as a white country full of Jones', Smiths', Williams' and this guy?



Cause this is how I see it. (And yes, that is from California Dreams.)



Last year alone, half of the new citizens in the US were Hispanics -mostly from Mexico, Cuba and El Salvador. Does that mean they need to alter their names as well? Of course it doesn't. That would cost her the Latino vote.

There is nothing easy about pronouncing names from around the world. Sometimes you get it right and sometime you don't, but just because you can't say it accurately, doesn't give mean THEY should change their name to accommodate your ignorance.

Personally, I don't like it when my students (especially adults) take English names. I know a lot of them see it as a nickname while their mothers spend hours online trying to figure out which one is good enough or popular enough, but your name is your name.

My name is George and in Korean it is written 조지 and pronounced "Jo-ji". Do I get upset when my name is pronounced like this? No.I understand where I am. I know it's a little uncomfortable for Koreans to make the "R" sound when saying my name. I'm not offended though. The Asian-American community is not going to be upset if their name is pronounced a little incorrectly, but making them change it under the guise of voter identification should not be an option.

Take the immortal Kim Yu-na for instance.



Her name is 김연아 which should be written and pronounced as Yeon-ah, but most people in fact pronounce it 김유나 or Kim Yu-na. She has been called Yu-na Kim over and over again, yet is not bothered by it. My brother-in-laws name is 김영승 or Kim Young-seung, but when my family was over here, they called him Kim Young-song. Did he care? Not at all. In fact, he was happy that they were trying.

Ultimately, this Texas lawmaker is gunning for voters in a state that is filled with ethnic diversity and racial tension. She's stoking the fire here and decided to throw the Asian-American community under the bus (again) since they have long been considered "Natural Republicans" and are a sure thing. (Not true by the way.)

She really displayed here intelligence with one of her closing statements.

"Rather than everyone here having to learn Chinese — I understand it’s a rather difficult language — do you think that it would behoove you and your citizens to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here?” Brown said.

Really? Is that what the Chinese-Americans wanted? They wanted people to learn Chinese so everyone can properly pronounce Chinese names? What a racist c**t.

Korean Cops and Traffic Laws for Expats: Some Advice

I'd like to offer some advice to any expats out there who also have a scooter, motorcycle or even a car in the form of a simple story.

One of the powers of being a motorized bike driver in Seoul is the ability to ignore all traffic laws. The unstated rule among us is that if it's clear, go. It's certainly not allowed by the law, nor is it safe, but the bike culture here is based on speed and efficiency (a trait that many facets of Korean life lack). Most of the drivers out there are delivery drivers who carry huge loads and packages on the back of their bikes and a speedy arrival translates to more income.

I always laugh when I'm sitting on my scooter in the middle of these leather clad delivery road warriors. They're always smoking and are usually filthy looking. I, on the other hand, am much cleaner, listening to "Take My Breath Away" and wearing a suit. I look pretty damn out of place, so I laugh. The only other motor scooterists in suits are the entry-level guys who can't afford a car yet.

To the story...

The other day, I was waiting at an intersection for a green light that never seemed to come. My fellow drivers were only adding to my impatience by constantly revving their engine as they inched closer to running the light. Finally, the coast was clear and we all ran the light. That's usually how I judge it. If they go, I try to blend into to the mix and dash across the intersection. Most of the time, we're in no real danger, but if even if we were, we certainly wouldn't we give it a second thought. That's what we do.

As free or innocent as we usually feel, this time the police, who were literally hiding in the bushes, did not seem to agree. They had set up little red-light trap. Since I have a scooter, I have quicker acceleration than most motorcycle deliver guys, so I was leading the back (which I imagine looks equally as funny). The fuzz emerged from the shrubs and darted into the street waving batons, directing us to the side on the road. I thought about ignoring the officer's orders, but decided it would be best to pull over and see what they had to say.

I stopped the bike, pulled out the key and waited to be questioned and, I presumed, ticketed. An officer who looked like he was in his mid-forties approached me and asked me to remove my helmet. Up until this point, he assumed I was a Korean man. He was prepared for that, so when I took off my helmet, he was noticeably shocked. It totally threw him off his game. He paused and just started at me. After an awkward 30 second love-stare, he began speaking...in Korean.

He tried to make it simple for me by speaking only in nouns with no verbs or anything "tricky".

"운전 면허증(drivers license)."

I knew what he had asked for. Simple context was more than enough. I understood, but did I want him to know that?

"뭐라고" I responded.

He said it again.

This time I just shrugged and pretended that I didn't understand a word he was saying. In frustration, he walked over to discuss the situation with his fellow officers. I watched them out of the corner of my eye. He was trying to find someone who spoke English. Besides the fact that they were busy dealing with other angry drivers, I could tell that none of them did. I don't think the Academy requires TOEIC scores.

He walked back over to me. He was looking at my license plate, or at least where my license plate is supposed to be. He pointed at it and said something I actually couldn't understand.

I shrugged.

Again because context is quite helpful in tricky situations, I fully understood what he was trying to say.I assume it was, "Where is your license plate? You should have a license plate!"

I shrugged.

After a few minutes of silent frustration, he looked at me and told me to carry my drivers license.

I shrugged.

"GO!" he fired back.

I did.

My first thought was that if this was America, I would have gotten a ticket and my lack of communication skills would have only made it bigger. No American police officer would do such a thing, but this guy did.

Either way, this officer had options. He could have found an English speaker if he wanted to. He could have asked for my ID card and tried to give me some sort of fine. He could have pushed harder for my drivers license or plate, but he didn't. It was easier to let me go than to go through the trouble. It boils down to the fact that these officers are underpaid and lazy. On top of that, he's not a Gangnam cop, so bribery is off the table, so it was just easier for him.

What did I learn?

Pretending not to understand a word (although a little embarrassing) got me out of a ticket and maybe more. Not having license plate on the bike (it's in my storage compartment under my seat) made it impossible to track. I was essentially a unregistered dude that somehow ascended to a level of greatness where traffic laws don't apply.

My advice to other expat motorcycle drivers?

Take off your license plates and play dumb. Forget all the "perpetuating a stereotype" or "being rude" talking points and play the game. It pays off.

Will this work everytime? No, but I assure you it won't hurt.

"Green" Koreans Arrested (because of Americans)

I don't condemn, nor do I condone these guys, but still am preplexed by those who think using or doing drugs in Korea is a good idea. These guys were asking for it if you ask me.

Four men were arrested Thursday for planting and smoking marijuana in their apartment and sharing ``tips'' online. Two others were booked for buying their plants for consumption.

Not the smartest growers, but at least they were wise enough to include an American in the project, so they can pass the blame later. Furthermore, what kind of idiot teacher would get involved with these goons knowing they were posting their methods on a blog?

Thirty-year-old Yeon and two others, including one American English instructor, shared his information and bought marijuana seed from Britain. They grew the plant in a closet on the veranda of his apartment in Haengdang-dong, Seoul, for five months and smoked the derived drug.

Would this have made the news if an American wasn't involved? I doubt it. Of the 1,170 Koreans arrested in 2007 on marijuana charges, I don't remember seeing anything in the paper.

Expat Instability Part 2: Clarity

Feeling accepted is something that we all strive for. It allows for growth, offers a feeling of importance and even gives you a sense of permanency. This simple fact is true with everything from school and sports teams to colleagues and family members. For the expat community in Korea, it’s especially true when discussing stability. I don’t have to explain the whole “You don’t understand Korean culture because Korea’s unique and homogeneous.” spiel. Everyone knows that’s a common Korean belief. It’s this alienating mentality that shapes the lives of expats greatly. There is a subtle (and sometimes overt) exclusionary atmosphere that radiates in Korea. This Us vs. Them temperament is quite far-reaching and directly affects the behavior, attitude, appreciation, respect and involvement of expats in Korea.

It’s no secret that expats here endure a lot of criticism –both deserved and undeserved. Excessive drinking, crude behavior, public displays of affection with –gasp!- Korean women and daily breaches of cultural boundaries all contribute to the rift. While there is no real excuse for some of this over-the-top behavior, there could be a cause. In an expats’ home nation, they adhere to their own widely known and essentially defined norms because they are aware of them. That’s what being a part of society requires. On the other hand, when one’s on vacation in another country, sometimes the local norms are blurred, but that’s to be expected when you visit a nation for a short time. You’re not really expected to observe every custom. In the Hermit Kingdom, however, there is a much more complex relationship between expectations and reality.

When an expat arrives in Korea, he or she is introduced to a few things: Korean-style binge drinking, communal eating and, let’s face it, freedom from responsibility.

Drinking, like usual, seems to be the most prevalent and like everywhere, it also causes the most problems. My first night in Korea was an excellent crash course in Korean drinking culture. A group of us went to dinner and, in true expat form, we drank literally everything we could. I remember being oblivious as to what soju was and was shocked when seeing how many shots my new cohorts were downing without hesitation. I wondered to myself if they had a drinking problem. As one friend put it, “I don’t have a drinking problem. I’m just a drinker in Korea.” After hours of lighthearted exchanges (and a few arm wrestling matches) we left and, as Koreans call it, we went to “the second place”. There we drank for a few more hours and before we knew it, it was light outside. As we walked home in the early morning light, we passed a man laying face-down in the road. He was in a suit, soaked from the pouring rain and waving his phone back and forth above the back of his head. I asked my friend if this was a normal sight and he said “Yeah, it happens all the time.” For me, as a new expat, I thought this was tolerable behavior. In my first night alone, I had been given two clear examples that excess is acceptable in Korea.

The next day, a couple friends and I headed to the Han River for some river floating. While trying to find a good place to launch, my new friends cracked their beers right there on the street. I was shocked to find out that it was “totally okay” to drink alcohol on the streets. Over the next few weeks, I discovered that drinking at convenience stores was acceptable as well.

When I say “discovered” that just means a fellow expat told me so. Does that mean it’s true? Of course it does. Well, not really. Drinking alcohol on the streets is actually not allowed, but the police usually overlook it, especially when certain elements of the Korean population partake (older men). This doesn’t mean the police harass us expats when we do it. I’ve drunk beer everywhere imaginable: subways, taxis, stores, rivers, parks, bathrooms, gas stations… you name it, I’ve boozed there. Even though we’re not getting harassed for drinking on the streets; we are creating an image or perpetuating a certain expat stereotype. -That being, the foreigner. Drinking at the Family Mart is actually okay, but even then, if taken to the excessive levels that I’ve seen, it becomes another wedge between the communities.

The point is that nothing is clear, so everything is game. The intoxicated business man on the street and public beer consumption are just two quick examples of the blurred norms that expats experience when introduced to Korea. There is a difference though. In Korea, acceptability is based on age. The older guy will get away with being a total ass in public. Well, in the West we don’t have the same age-based biases. A young guy would be scrutinized just the same as the old man. While expats are aware of this ageist system, they tend to underestimate its reaches.

It’s safe to say that most expats here don’t feel included and, in many ways, the Korean population prefers it that way. It appears to be the way they cope with the forces of globalization. (Phase One: Denial) As with interracial relationships on the peninsula, issues important to foreigners are taken lightly since they’re not actual Korean concerns. Why would they be? To the average citizen, that Korean girl with the foreigner is “just playing” or “learning English” and the foreigner who was just assaulted “doesn’t understand Korean culture” and is at fault. This concept is not lost on the expat community either. We know that we are viewed as outsiders or miscreants and our acceptance of this, however latent, creates an environment where taking responsibility for your actions is rare. I can think of several instances just from my circle here.

** Getting nude in a bar and placing ones boxers on a passed out friend who happens to be holding an open umbrella

** Passing out on an elementary school playground

** Fake fighting to the point of being ejected from a favorite bar

** Spending a month’s salary in one night knowing that the school will spot you for the rest of the month

** Refusing to stop drinking, attacking an entire bar full of people (and winning) and ultimately getting banned

** Punching each other in the face until -well, that’s all. That’s the game in its entirety.

** Pulling ones pants down all the way at the urinal while other people are around.

** Denting a taxi with an umbrella, lying about it and then bribing the police WITHOUT money while you have marker covering your face because you passed out in a Noraebang with cruel friends.

** Resting your manhood on another man’s face who just happened to be passed out on the floor of the bar

To tell the truth, those moments happen to be some of the funnier memories I have here and to be fair, two people committed six of those acts. Still, they are not in any way atypical of expats here. Honestly, none of us are “atypical” because we have all witnessed what is perceived as acceptable expat behavior. Would we act the same way at home? Maybe, but many of the items listed above would result in ramifications (legal and social) that just don’t exist here. Expats know what proper behavior is, but without definable limitations people can behave poorly. Korea barely has boundaries set for its own citizens and even then, many people can cross them whenever they please without consequences.

As I mentioned above, there is not a great sense of permanency among the majority of expats. Time here is brief --a stop-over-- so adherence to common mores seems useless. Just like the widespread apathy towards learning the Korean language, people often prefer not spend the time trying to define the indefinable. There is plenty of blame to go around for inappropriate expat behavior in Korea and for too long, I believed it was totally the fault of some “ foreigners”, but it’s just not that simple. A host nation that refuses to appropriately acknowledge a community made up of over 1,000,000 people (which includes nearly 50,000 teachers), opens a door to where proper social conduct is so grayed that when an expat mimics the behavior of an normal Korean citizen, he or she is the one who is chastised for not understanding the “complexities” of Korean culture.

Expat Instability: Part 1

Expat life in Korea is very unstable. It’s full of dicey jobs, poor planning, all-night benders and, in many cases, very little reality. Day-to-day bills are low; rent is paid for and there is a sense that you are being taken care of by someone other than yourself. To the majority, however, that is fine. The guys and gals teaching here often times enjoy this purgatory-like state and use it as a springboard for their next adventure. Planning the next Asian getaway or weekend pub crawl becomes a top priority, while little or no legitimate concern for the reality that exists beyond the peninsula is expressed. This perceived disconnect is what some crave. I remember it fondly; casually drifting from one bar to the next, eager to make that night better than the one before. It was a simple existence full of samgyeopsal & soju; beer & fried chicken and the fitting drunken debate (or loud talking in my case). That being said, even though I have gotten married, stabilized numerous facets of my life, curtailed most of the aforementioned behavior, there still is something unstable about expat life in Korea.

During the course of one’s times in Korea, no matter whom you are and where you live on the peninsula, you will be constantly bombarded with new people. You will arrive new and, in many ways, you will leave new as well. I remember my arrival which I detailed on this blog nearly three years ago. I was fresh, anxious and, most of all, presumably dependant on the friends that I was hoping to cement in those first few weeks. And after a couple hours, I was essentially accepted into the crew and my Korean transition became a whole lot easier. I was grateful for them, but at the time, was totally oblivious to the cycle that many of them had been in for years.

Every few months, teachers in Korea are forced to say goodbye to friendships forged while working here. Maybe you got here at the end of someone’s tenure or perhaps you arrived at the same time as your new international BFF. Either way, after a year, chances are someone is leaving. Naturally, expanding your friendship pool is always fun, but when you reach a certain point, the baby-sized pool of long-term friendships in Korea is full. I have had many conversations with my friends here and they know my feelings about staying in touch and keeping memories alive. It’s quite important to me, but where can the line be drawn? A few weeks ago, I made a statement as to who I thought I would remain close to. I was being very realistic and suggested that geography would have a huge effect on friendship maintenance. After I finished, some acted as if they were shocked to hear such a thing, but had they thought it through that much? A fellow American in the room --sensing the vibe-- suggested that there’s a very real possibility that, even if we did stay close (emails, phone calls, etc...), there would probably be decades where we wouldn’t see each other.

This summed it up for me. I have a solid batch of expat friends right now as it is. More will be coming. At this point, I’m already going to have trouble managing the ones I already have, so do I want more? I’m sure that new teachers will arrive in the near future, be placed into the group (like I was) and therefore I must interact with them. But at this point I’m prepared to say that those interactions will be stifled by my conception of expat friendships. There is a certain level of expectations involved in expat friendships. After a few months, people start to realize that a time will come when Korea is in the past and when you realize this, to quote a friend, you gotta “twist or stick”. Twisting (or capping your pool) can cause problems, but sticking only exacerbates the problem and creates for an even more dysfunctional reality.

There is, however, an upside to this assembly-line friendship and I have felt it as well: getting to share your side of the Korean story. Some new teachers will catch you when you are in positive-mode about Korea and then they’ll fall in line with you. Or perhaps they’ll arrive when you’re having a few problems and then they will absorb that attitude. Other people thrive on new teachers because it’s a chance to tell the same story over and over again and if you’re with the right crowd, you can even throw a few steroids in it and change the story from three dogs that were chasing you in Laos, to eight…

During the course of my three years here, I have made a lot of friends. Some of them have been drinking buds that I still love to get a beer with and others are the ones you call in a time of need. That being said, it is impossible to make this distinction without stepping on toes. There is nothing rude or insincere about it. It’s natural. All of us have made tons of friends who we were once close to, but as time progressed, we grew apart. That’s real life which, of course, resembles nothing of expat life. As I said earlier, all of us who come here are new and, as the cycle of friends continues to rip through the expat community, many of will leave here new as well. Luckily, I’ll be with my wife.