Abstract
Koreans living in Japan, so-called Zainichi Koreans, were historically forced to use Japanese names during the annexation (1910–45) and have been using them until today. While most Zainichi Koreans use Japanese names in public, some use Korean names all the time or only when they associate with fellow Zainichi Koreans. Zainichi Korean women have been marginalized not only by the dominant group, the ethnic Japanese, but also by their own group. This paper explores experiences of Zainichi Korean women and examines how using Japanese or Korean names has impacted their identity. My research design utilized qualitative interviews, and was particularly inspired by feminist oral history. This study showed the need to be conscious about keeping harmony and not to stand out, especially when they use Korean names. At the same time, use of Korean names can foster their ethnic identity and help construction of intercultural identity.
Jung Ja, is it sad to claim that name, putting a red bookmark in my diary チョンジャその名なのりしことも哀しみか日記に赤き栞をはさむ At all times A person has one name I tell my child about the pain to have two names Under the stars いつの世も人間の名は一つにて二つもつ苦しみ子に告ぐ星の下に
Introduction
A name indicates identity. Since ethnicity, name, and identity are strongly connected, a name reflects both self-perception and perceived identity, which impacts the self and others, especially for members of minority groups (Ang, 2001; Fukuoka, 2003; Hyun, 2002). Ethnic minorities often use nicknames, alter their names, or mispronounce them in order to assimilate into the dominant culture. As in the United States (US), where ‘American’ identity has been associated with white Europeans, in Japan, ‘Japanese’ identity is associated with Japanese ethnicity. In both countries, ‘otherness’ is negated and the dominant group has created hegemonic societies defining the cultural values and norms (Bhabha, 1994; Giroux, 1981; Lie, 2000; Lowe, 1996; Oguma, 2002; Omi and Winant, 1994; Wu, 2002). The minority groups have been forced to assimilate into the mainstream, not only by speaking the dominant language, eliminating the cultures of their homelands, but also by changing their ‘ethnic’ names. In other words, immigrant parents have given their children names in the language of the host country in order to assimilate into the dominant society so that their children will not be marginalized. For example, many Japanese American Nisei (second generation) took English names or altered their Japanese names to the ones that sound more English; Tsutomu became Tom; or Sumire became Violet (Takaki, 1998). Even so, when the family names represent their ethnic background, they might be marginalized in the mainstream. Ironically, their assimilated given names are not of their ancestral country anymore. Therefore, a name itself reflects not only personal background but also historical and social background in the dominant society.
People of Korean descent in Japan (Zainichi Koreans), most of whose ancestors came to Japan during the annexation of Korea (1910–45), were forced to use the Japanese names under the system called sōshikaimei, literally meaning creating family names and changing given names, by the Japanese government, who framed this coercion as encouragement (Fukuoka, 2003; Harajiri, 2003; Ryang, 2000). Even after World War II (WWII), most Koreans who stayed in Japan continued to use their Japanese names to avoid discrimination: to rent a room for living from a Japanese landlord, to get a job, and so on (Harajiri, 2003; Hyun, 2002). Although some schools and teachers now encourage them to use Korean names since human rights education, including the rights of Zainichi Koreans, was included in the curriculum, many Koreans continue to use Japanese names, partly because of the prejudice which still exists against them, and partly because of the result of assimilation, which became natural for them to use Japanese names both in public and private (Fukuoka, 2003; Harajiri, 2003; Kuraishi, 2003; Okubo, 2006; Ryang, 2000).
However, the use of Japanese names for people of Zainichi Koreans has made them perpetually invisible in Japan; at the same time, by keeping their Korean names in official documents, they have remained ‘Other’ in Japanese society, which is strongly believed to be homogeneous by the dominant group. In fact, there are minority groups in Japan, such as the Ainu (indigenous Japanese), Burakumin (the outcast people), Korean immigrants (since the 1900s) and so-called newcomers (people of Japanese emigrant descent returning from Latin America since the 1990s), those who seem invisible and marginalized (Amano, 2001; Kawamura, 2002; Kishida, 2001; Lie, 2000; Sakuma, 2001). Moreover, keeping harmony, a Japanese core value, means not standing out and not being different, which have pressured those minority groups including Zainichi Koreans not to be inharmonious. The denial of the reality of ethnic diversity in Japan perpetuates oppression and exclusion of minority groups. Therefore, the diversity of Japan should be recognized and more deeply understood.
The experience of Zainichi Koreans is quite different from that of an ethnic Japanese, a member of the dominant group in Japan, who was given a name reflecting one’s own background. From the perspective of the dominant group, forcing people to take names in the language of that group makes it easier to address them (‘call them’ as they want to), which makes it easier to control them because the dominant group does not have to adapt to the subordinate groups. For example, in the US many immigrants who came to the country had their names changed or anglicized on Ellis Island. Waters (1990), who studied European descendants of immigrants to the US, found a relationship between their ability to retain their ethnic names and how they identified themselves, which also affected the degree to which they retained or lost their cultural heritage. Takaki (1993), as mentioned earlier, stated that Japanese Americans who experienced anti-immigrant sentiment and incarceration during WWII have adopted Western first names and American customs to avoid discrimination and to fit into the dominant American culture. Even after WWII, Nisei (second generation) parents, many of whom had experienced incarceration, chose for their children Anglicized names to ‘mitigate the perception of foreignness’ (Tuan, 2005: 67).
According to Hyun (2002), Korean family names represent the ancestor’s lands of origin which have been passed down through generations. The name of ancestors should be inherited by their male offspring. A Korean woman, therefore, is expected to give birth to a son who can inherit the family and its name of her husband when she gets married. As in many cultures, Zainichi Korean women’s names are gendered and their last names are lost since their children inherit only fathers’ names. Moreover, they have been silenced and seen as inferior in two ways: as women and as women of a minority group (Jung, 2003; Kim, 2005). Many Zainichi Korean women have Japanese-sounding first names, such as Takako, which makes them more ‘invisible’ when they use Japanese last names, while some do have Korean-sounding first names, such as Kyung Hee. In this study, all my participants had Japanese-sounding first names, although the Chinese characters of their names were read the Korean way; for example, Yoshiko (美子) was read Mi Ja (미자) in Korean, when I was introduced to her.
One of the reasons I studied Zainichi Korean women for this study was to listen to their silenced voices. My first contact with a Zainichi Korean friend occurred at a university in Minnesota when I was an exchange student. I had never met Zainichi Koreans in person before probably both because I had not been aware that they live close to me back in rural Kyoto, and because they had been invisible to me because of the use of Japanese names. Although my encounter with Zainichi Koreans has been mostly females and a few males, I have realized that there is more literature by male than by female Zainichi Koreans. Listening to Zainichi Korean women’s lived experience is therefore even more necessary to cast the light not only on their own lives, but also Zainichi Korean and Japanese society.
This paper explores the experiences of Zainichi Korean women, one of the marginalized groups in Japan, and examines how having altered names has impacted their identity. Their voices tell their own stories which reveal the counter narrative against the master narrative. The questions addressed are as follows: (1) How do women participants who have more than one name identify themselves? (2) How does the use of name reflect their self-perception? (3) How does it reflect their situation within the group and the larger society?
The Term Zainichi Korean
In this study, the term Zainichi Korean is used to describe the Koreans living in Japan. Zainichi, the word itself, means a person living in Japan as a foreigner. This word is often used to describe Koreans living in Japan, for instance, ‘she is zainichi,’ meaning ‘she is a person of Korean descent living in Japan.’ Usually, in Japanese, the combination of a country name and people (jin) describes one’s nationality. For example, chugoku jin (China + people), means Chinese people or person. However, to describe people of Korean heritage in Japanese, there are several ways because of the division of the Korean peninsula. Traditionally, people from the Korean peninsula were called chōsen jin before the division. After the Republic of Korea was founded, people of South Korea are called kankoku jin, meaning South Korean people. Koreans who were living in Japan at that time could change their registration to kankoku, South Korea. However, there were people who retained chōsen registration, now referring to North Korea in most cases, even though most people who came to Japan during the annexation were from the southern region of Korea, such as Pusan, Deagu, and Jeju-do. Therefore, among people of Korean descent, there are people who identify as chōsen jin and kankoku jin.
Another term, Zainichi Korean, pronounced zainichi korian in Japanese, can describe people of both North and South Korean descent living in Japan. This has been used only recently by the younger generation. I chose this recently-produced term for three reasons: there was no South or North Korea when they first came to Japan; there is no appropriate Japanese word to describe both; and I can include all participants whether they identify themselves as chōsen jin or kankoku jin, or zainichi korian. In this study, Mi Ja used the term zainichi korian and kankoku jin, Soon Ja and Hong Ja used kankoku jin, and Yu Ja used chōsen jin to identify themselves.
It is significant to note, however, that the terms which describe the people of Korean heritage have acquired negative connotations due in part to the political conflict in the Korean peninsula and the international conflict among Japan and North and South Korea (Harajiri, 2003). Especially, the word chōsen jin is often used in a derogatory way by the Japanese (Harajiri, 2003; Hyun, 2002). This complexity of naming, in turn, has created a multilayer of identity among Koreans residing in Japan, including the participants in the study.
Theoretical Framework
Sense of identity contains the notions of difference and sameness, and is shaped by the reflections mirrored back by others and through interactions with them (Erikson, 1963; Polkinghorne, 1998; Suárez-Orozco, 2004). Since identity is constructed in the process of relating to the dominant group, members of marginalized groups have ‘twoness’ or dual identity as DuBois (1989) described, which is often reflected in their names. Further, identification is a process of articulation, not a subsumption, as Hall (1996) states:
Identities are about questions of using the resource of history, language and culture in the process of becoming rather than being: not ‘who we are’ or ‘where we came from,’ so much as what we might become, how we have been represented and how that bears on how we might represent ourselves. (p. 4)
In a hegemonic society, assimilationism, which means to make people of subordinate groups assimilate into the dominant society, is the official goal; at the same time, it is ‘inherently contradictory, because the very acquired – rather than inherited or ascribed – character of cultural traits gained in the process of assimilation turns the assimilating subjects into a less than real, and thus somehow inferior Westerner’ (Ang, 2001: 9), which can be applied to the relationship between the Zainichi Koreans and ethnic Japanese in the Japanese context. Most Zainichi Koreans use Japanese names, speak Japanese, and look the same as Japanese. However, having a Korean ethnic background still makes them less authentic Japanese.
People of the dominated group have constructed the sense of otherness, which Bhabha called ‘culturally alien consciousness,’ negating the primordial identity (1994: 74). Immigrants are pressured to erase the trace of their origin in order to assimilate. Their ethnic origin is often denied by not being ‘authentic’ in both host and home country (Ang, 2001). For example, if Zainichi Koreans learn to speak the Korean language, they are often told it is not ‘correct’ Korean by the Koreans from Korea; if they cannot speak the language, they are told that they are not Korean enough (though they may, in fact, carry a Korean passport), yet they are not considered Japanese either (Maeda, 2005). Moreover, in hegemonic society, diasporic identity, what it means or should mean, is decided by the dominant group (Ang, 2001; Oka, 2000).
However, Zainichi Koreans have constructed a transcultural identity with which they can negotiate and translate both host and home countries’ cultures and create their own culture as Zainichi Korean (Bhabha, 1994; Suárez-Orozco, 2004). In a ‘third space’ or ‘in between space,’ which makes it possible to construct their own history, people of the dominated group can define their own identity, not be defined by the dominant (Bhabha, 1994).
Since Zainichi Koreans have been discriminated against based on national origin as well as ethnicity, national identity is often considered an important part of their identity. Nationality is given to people of the nation, which is defined as an imagined community by Anderson (1983). Especially during international conflicts, such as WWII, the diplomatic relations between their home and host countries affect immigrants’ lives (Lowe, 1996). Unlike many countries, people born in Japan are not necessarily considered Japanese unless one of their parents is a Japanese citizen (until 1986, just a father). Therefore, many people of Korean descent retain Korean nationality because Zainichi Koreans became ‘foreigners’ whose civil and human rights were restricted after WWII, when Japan gave up all territories including the Korean peninsula when they signed the San Francisco Peace Treaty in 1952, although Koreans possessed Japanese nationality during the annexation (Ryang, 2000; Shin and Tsutsuki, 2007).
According to Omi and Winant (1994), ethnicity was understood as being formed by descent and culture, such as language, customs, religion, and so on; however, it is also socially constructed through the relationship with the dominant group and through social movements. In the Japanese context, ethnicity and nationality are described or understood similarly; while non-Japanese are racialized and socially constructed as non-White, people are racialized in the West as well (Lie, 2000; Murphy-Shigematsu, 2004). Therefore, ‘Japanese’ is defined as ethnic Japanese, those who have privilege, although these definitions can be both explicit and implicit because of the complexity and intersectionality of the multiple aspects of social constructions of gender, class, generation, national origin, and so on. Moreover, ethnic Japanese sometimes see themselves as a race, and nationality is often understood as equivalent to the way citizenship is defined in the context in the US (Lie, 2000). Fukuoka (2003) classified the people living in Japan into eight categories (see Table 1). According to Fukuoka, those who are considered ‘Japanese’ share all three variables of heritage, culture, and nationality, or two of them, or even one of them. At the same time, those who do not share all three variables can also be considered as non-Japanese. For example, even if a Zainichi Korean gets naturalized, she or he may not be considered as Japanese because of different ethnic heritage, while a Japanese American can be considered as Japanese because of the same ethnic heritage (as Japanese in Japan).
Types of Japanese
Note: Adapted from Fukuoka (2003).
Moreover, the concept of citizenship historically is gendered in patriarchal societies, first only given to privileged men, which influences not only formation of racial but also of gender identity (Lowe, 1996). Women’s voices therefore were long ignored and neglected socially and politically. Since their silence was expected, they have internalized their voicelessness. Jung (2003) further pointed out that, during the liberation movements when Zainichi Koreans fought for equality, Korean women remained oppressed in their own families. Women in the marginalized groups often cannot relate to feminists of the privileged group, who do not fully understand the inter-relatedness of sex, race, and class oppression (hooks, 1984). The perspective from the marginalized groups, which is shaped by the ‘world view differed from those who have a degree of privilege,’ is necessary to create counter-hegemony for the dominant classist, racist, and sexist hegemony (hooks, 1984: 15). Thus Zainichi Korean women’s voices are essential to deconstruct the hegemony in Japan.
Historical Background and Names of Koreans in Japan
During the annexation (1910–45), many Korean farmers and their families migrated to Japan as cheap labor in industries such as mining and civil engineering because they had lost their land and homes to the land reform of the Japanese military (Kim, 1994; Ryang, 2000). Especially after WWII began, the number migrating from Korea dramatically increased to approximately two million, some forcibly taken to supply the shortage of labor caused by accelerating militarization (Kim, 1994). After WWII, about 600,000 Koreans stayed in Japan, settling down or finding the situation in Korea to be unstable (Kim, 1994; Lie, 2008; Ryang, 2000). Currently Zainichi Koreans compose one of the biggest minority groups in Japan and most of them are second, third, and fourth generation. The estimated population varies from 600,000 to 1,000,000, because the Japanese census does not survey the ethnic background of those who have Japanese nationality. Therefore, naturalized Koreans or those who have a Korean mother or father are not counted. In 2010, there were 578,495 Korean residents living in Japan (Ministry of Justice, 2010). At age 16, those who have South or North Korean nationality need to register as ‘foreigners’ with their pictures and more details such as their occupation and family members (Tanaka, 2004). In 2012, the immigration law was changed and registered residents do not have to carry the alien registration card any more, but they still need to register as ‘foreigners’.
It is not surprising that most Koreans who stayed in Japan after WWII continued to use their Japanese names to avoid discrimination. The use of a Japanese name for first and second generation, according to Lie (2008: 19), was a ‘sheer consequence of camouflage’ which made them unwilling to identify publicly as a minority and willing to play the majority in order to succeed in Japanese society. At the same time, however, because of their continued use of Japanese names, their invisibility has been perpetuated.
Among the Koreans who have tried to regain their ethnic identity through student movements during the 1960s and 70s, many of them reclaimed their Korean names publicly. Names, therefore, are one of the sensitive issues for many Zainichi Koreans:
[Names] are an extremely sensitive issue for some Koreans whose resentment lingers over assimilationist policies practiced during the colonial period in which Koreans were forced to assume Japanese surnames. The government’s stance (at least in the past) that naturalizers should adopt Japanese surnames therefore evokes resistance and accusations that acquiring Japanese nationality requires becoming Japanese in body and soul. (Murphy-Shigematsu, 2004: 313)
Keeping Korean names, therefore, can mean resistance to assimilation. Fukuoka (2003), who studied the identity of young Zainichi Koreans, found that they related their names to their identities. Especially for those who use Korean names, their names indicate their ethnicity and make them more conscious about being a minority in Japan. However, some use Korean and Japanese names interchangeably depending on the situation. There are three categories of names used by Zainichi Koreans in Japan as explained below:
Korean name said Korean way:
(In Japan, usually pronounced Japanese way:
Korean name said Japanese way:
Japanese name:
Bolded parts are different from Korean name, (1).
Usually, in (1) and (2), the Chinese characters of the name are the same but read differently while in (3), the family name is changed. In Zainichi Japanese family names, however, they often use the original Chinese characters of their last name or district’s name of origin, such as kim/kane (金), and add another Chinese character such as yama (山) because many Japanese family names are compounded of two Chinese characters. This way Zainichi Korean last names would look more Japanese and make it easier to ‘pass’ as Japanese. At the same time, by keeping their original Chinese characters, Zainichi Koreans’ Japanese last names can retain cultural identity (Hyun, 2002).
As a second generation Zainichi Korean, Hyun (2002) describes his complicated situation; he has used three names (patterns (3), (2), (1), respectively). He used to use his Japanese name, Nobeyama, Yoshimitsu, pattern 3, but he ‘threw away’ his Japanese name and started to use his Korean name. Even though he awakened his ethnic consciousness to become ‘real Korean’ by using his Korean name, pattern 1, with his Zainichi Korean colleagues, he still uses pattern 2 with Japanese. When he goes to Korea, his relatives call him by his first name the Japanese way, but with Korean pronunciation. The way his Zainichi Korean colleagues address him (pattern 1) is not correct in contemporary Korean, but they use this form because ‘they have lived in the world too far from using contemporary Korean language and hesitate to use those expressions’ (Hyun, 2002: 77). Hyun further says even though some people might say a name is just a symbol which your parents chose without your will and has nothing to do with your ‘real nature,’ he feels skeptical:
That is because we, the second generation Zainichi Koreans, have lived telling many lies, and on top of all that, not being able to tell which is false and which is true, we have not been able to dispel the ‘doubt’ if we’ve continued ‘lie’ after ‘lie.’ We’ve lived in insecurity wondering if self-existence itself is lie or false. And we wish, someday I want to be ‘real me,’ but where is it? (p. 78)
Zainichi Koreans are sensitive about their names because the insulting historical relationship with Japan forced them to change, but simply using a real Korean name is not a solution to their identity crises.
Lee (2004), also second generation, found out she had two names around the time she was in junior high school. She was bewildered at first when she needed to use her Korean names:
When I entered junior high, I was told that the school required the students to use real names. Ikuno District in Osaka city had the largest population of North and South Koreans, and one out of four students was Korean. Therefore, the real name system started . . . When I asked the teacher at the junior high, the teacher said, ‘We want you to be proud of yourselves.’ In our school, we had name tags . . . I felt uncomfortable to have my real name on my name tag . . . I mean, I had been called Morimoto, then once I got in junior high, I became ‘Lee.’ Some of my friends from elementary school still call me by my Japanese name. (Lee, 2004: para. 3)
Although Lee decided to continue to use her Korean name in high school, many students chose to use Japanese names again. Lee says that schools which encourage Korean students to use their Korean names protect them, but cannot do so outside school or after students graduate from school.
Harajiri’s research (2003) showed that, in Kanagawa prefecture, Japan, out of 866 Zainichi Korean students, 91.3% used Japanese names in 1986. Currently, a movement exists to encourage Korean students to use their Korean names (Harajiri, 2003). As a consequence, the number of Zainichi Korean students who use their real names at school is increasing, because it is the ‘right’ thing to do in terms of ethnic consciousness, although some Zainichi Korean parents still hesitate to choose Korean names because of discrimination. Moreover, Kuraishi (2003) argues that those teachers who encourage Korean students to use Korean names tend to see only the historical reasons for and social stigma associated with the label of a Korean ethnic background and they do not respect the students’ choices about naming themselves, regarding keeping their Japanese names. Yet Korean students who have used Japanese names in school often feel they have lied to other people and to themselves (Chen, 2005). The history of Zainichi Koreans’ use of name reflects their history as well.
Methodology
This study utilized a qualitative research method. The qualitative approach allows the investigation and analysis of this topic in depth. Although the number of participants in this research was relatively small, the qualitative interviews with open-ended questions enabled engaged dialogues with participants and deeper investigation of the participants’ names and identities. It is important to note that each Zainichi Korean woman’s experience is different depending on where she was born, whether she grew up bilingual or not, what her nationality is, and so forth. Therefore, the narratives of this study did not intend to describe Zainichi Korean women’s experience as a whole, but describe each participant’s experience in depth.
This study was specifically inspired by feminist oral history research, which enables women (participants) to create and construct their own history using their own voices and experiences (Gluck, 2002; Minister, 1991). Since this study focused on Zainichi Korean women’s experience, ‘liberatory feminism’ was addressed, which is constructed by women’s personal testimony and personal experience and deconstructs the ‘hegemonic feminist theory produced primarily by academic women, most of whom were white’ (hooks, 1994: 63). In a Japanese context, the hegemonic theory has been constructed by the ethnic Japanese. Moreover, a liberatory feminist approach would listen to the silenced voices of women. Adler (1998) states that, in her study of Japanese American women’s identity, ‘The construction of who they are must come from themselves, from their own historical perspectives, told in their own voices with their own interpretations’ (p. 169). The participants’ voices may not necessarily represent all Zainichi Korean women’s experience; however, their narratives critically reflect their experiences as persons of Korean background living in Japan and are intended in part to enable them to hear their own stories and recognize their importance in that they reflect a side of Japanese society which has been invisible.
This research was conducted in the Kansai area of Japan. The participants were four Zainichi Korean women (one second generation aged 64, and three third generation aged 22, 29, and 30). Two sets of dialogues were conducted with each participant in 2007. All dialogues were audio-recorded and then transcribed. I also took notes during the dialogue.
The data analysis was done by ‘work[ing] back and forth’ between the transcripts with each participant, finding generative themes (Rubin and Rubin, 1995; Silverman, 2000). Therefore the generative themes were found and developed during the actual dialogues with the participants, transcribing the dialogues, reading the transcriptions, and coding the transcriptions. Data interpretation was done by finding links among the generative themes and how these linking themes pose historical and cultural context (Freire, 2000).
Findings
Names in Assimilation
The participant women’s names reflected assimilation to some extent. However, how they perceived their Korean or Japanese names varied. As discussed earlier, historically, Zainichi Koreans have been forced (or ‘encouraged’) to adopt Japanese customs regarding the naming of children, giving them names written in Chinese characters which could be read as either Japanese or Korean names. For example, the characters ‘順子’ can be read either Junko in Japanese or Soon Ja in Korean, as Soon Ja, 64 – a second generation Zainichi Korean woman – explained. The other three Zainichi Korean participants’ names (Yu Ja, Mi Ja and Hong Ja) are also Korean pronunciations of Japanese names written in Chinese characters. These names read in Japanese are rather common in Japan, but not in Korea. If they use Japanese last names, such as Iwamoto, Kinoshita, and so on, they can ‘pass’ as Japanese at school or work.
The reason that their parents gave them Japanese names, Soon Ja explained, is because she was born in Japan. Soon Ja’s uncle, who was educated, gave her a Japanese name Junko, and she used Junko in school and at work. Although her parents spoke Korean between themselves, they called her by her Japanese name, Junko. Mi Ja, 29, and Hong Ja, 22, both third generation, also mentioned that they were given Japanese names. Yu Ja, 30, third generation, was told by her parents that a name is something that they can give even though they may not be able to give her property.
When I met each participant, I called them by their Korean names. However, I asked Soon Ja and Hong Ja, who use them only at ethnic Korean organizations where they learn(ed) the Korean language and traditional music, how I should call them because they use Japanese names in public. Soon Ja said, ‘It is okay with Iwamoto-san,’ her Japanese last name. Soon Ja did not mention a particular reason. The fact that she did not say the reason to me, an ethnic Japanese researcher, might reflect her own experience being bullied by Japanese classmates when she was young. Growing up, using her Korean name and revealing her ethnic identity by doing so would have caused her serious trouble at school. Moreover, she always used her Japanese names with her Japanese friends and coworkers at school and work, and her Korean names with Zainichi Korean friends at the Korean organization. It could also be assumed that it was because we met at a restaurant and then at her office, places where she might have felt more comfortable using her Japanese name.
On the other hand, Hong Ja said it was okay to use her Korean name and I called her Hong Ja-san from the beginning. At the time of interview she had just joined the young Korean organization which fosters Korean ethnic identity, and thus encourages the members to use Korean names. She also added being interviewed as a Zainichi Korean made her feel more and more Zainichi Korean; until then she was never called by her Korean name by her Japanese friends, growing up in a predominantly Japanese environment. By using Japanese first and last names, Soon Ja and Hong Ja do not feel that they were treated as ‘other.’ However, this implies a degree of assimilation as they seem to favor not standing out and keeping harmony, core values of Japanese society.
Living as Other in Japan
One of the participants, Mi Ja (29, third generation) used her Korean name with Japanese pronunciation (Boku, Yoshiko) until high school. Often her Zainchi Korean friends said it was rare to use Korean names for those who go to Japanese schools, although the Korean name with Japanese pronunciation is more acceptable to teachers and classmates. Using her Korean name was her mother’s decision. Her mother went to a predominantly Japanese school using her Japanese name. One day she told her identity to a close friend, who stopped the friendship. Mi Ja’s mother never wanted her children to have the same experience.
For Zainichi Korean parents who want their children to use their Korean names, it can be a hard choice because the children might be bullied in school for being different. In fact, Mi Ja’s sister was told ‘go back to Korea’ by a classmate, but Mi Ja said she did not have to worry about revealing her identity, and moreover, she enjoyed being different. However, since she was conscious of being different, she tried to be strong. Sometimes she would speak somewhat aggressively because if she could show her toughness to the classmates, she wouldn’t be bullied, and that was her way ‘to survive’ in a predominantly Japanese classroom. Moreover, she became a member of the most popular group in class by playing the role of a ‘funny’ student. Because she was using her Korean last name, she was conscious of being different, so she felt she had to fit in to avoid being bullied.
Although Hong Ja used her Japanese name, Hiroko, at Japanese public schools, for her, it did not mean hiding her identity. Her parents told her that she was Korean when she was around five years old. When Hong Ja was in fourth grade, her classroom teacher encouraged her to tell the class about her identity. She wondered why, but later she guessed that her teacher thought using her Japanese name was ‘hiding her identity.’ She clearly remembered the day that she confessed her identity in class, saying, ‘I was really nervous . . . I was shaking so much . . . I remember with my shaking voice, I said I am Korean. I don’t remember what else I said, but I did say that. The rest of the students applauded.’
Even though talking about her ethnic identity took a lot of courage, Hong Ja never felt discrimination in elementary school. However, she was once told to ‘go back to Korea’ by one student whom she didn’t even know in junior high school. At that time, she was disappointed that her identity had been revealed to someone else:
I was so shocked. I thought I shouldn’t have talked about my identity. I thought, ‘Why am I Korean even though I live like everyone else?’ I didn’t like that I am Korean. I was glad that I had Japanese name. If I use Korean name, I cannot hide [my identity], can I?
Although she emphasized it happened to her ‘only once’ and that incident did not become a trauma, using a Japanese name made her feel protected and no different from other Japanese students.
Using Korean names in school, Zainichi Korean students might face bullying and discrimination. If they use Japanese names, they might be treated the same as ethnic Japanese students. However, it does not mean that they would avoid the experience that Hong Ja had. Ignoring diversity and trying to keep harmony perpetuate exclusionism.
Names in Resistance for Assimilation
Retaining Korean names sometimes can mean resistance to assimilation. Students in Japanese schools are often expected to keep harmony, and so are adults who work for Japanese companies, so retaining a Korean name can be seen as disharmonious. However, for those who grew up using Korean names in a Zainichi Korean community, it is natural to use them. At the same time, use of Korean names can express their sense of ethnic pride. For example, Yu Ja (30, third generation) seldom uses her Japanese name. According to Yu Ja, her Korean name is the only one she identifies with. It is possibly because she attended a Korean ethnic school from kindergarten to high school, surrounded by ethnic Korean classmates, and never felt ‘denial about self-identity.’ Therefore, the use of Korean names did not make her stand out and it contributed to a retention of Korean identity, often times consciously. When Yu Ja entered a Japanese private university, which was almost her first intimate interaction with Japanese students, she introduced herself by her Korean name. Later, one of her classmates told her that she was surprised that Yu Ja openly used her Korean name. Yu Ja never bothered talking about her background and the Korean student organization’s activities that she was involved in. Yet the fact that Yu Ja is clear and open about her name expresses her resistance against the dominant group.
Soon Ja grew up using her Japanese name. However, when she was in elementary school, her classmates knew that she was Korean because they were living in the same district. Using her Japanese name, therefore, did not protect her from bullying in elementary school. She became less motivated to study in junior high. Soon Ja said she did not tell her identity in school. For Soon Ja, using Japanese names could also express her resistance. She does not think that she should reveal her identity and using a Japanese name doesn’t mean hiding her identity:
I think I don’t have to say my [Korean] name Chu, Soon Ja. I don’t have to announce my name. I think I am cheating in a way. [I asked: ‘Cheating?’] It’s cheating, isn’t it? I cannot express myself honestly . . . Like us the second generation, there was a time we wanted to hide our identity . . . If we said it, we would be bullied. If we say a word, it’s over . . . [So] I didn’t tell [my classmates] by myself. When I was in elementary school, they knew [my identity] because they lived in the same area. But when I went to junior high and vocational school, I thought I didn’t have to promote by myself. If it happens, it happens. [I said: ‘You were open.’] I was. What’s wrong with it? Did I have to say my identity to you? Yeah, did I make trouble with you? . . . [If] they don’t ask me, I don’t have to say anything.
By using her Japanese name, she expresses her sense of resistance to people who would expect her to reveal her Korean identity. Zainichi Koreans should not be blamed for the names they used in public, especially for her generation who needed to assimilate into the mainstream because prejudice was very strong when she was growing up.
Mi Ja, who now lives in Seoul with her South Korean husband, said that her husband once suggested she create another (Korean) name because Mi Ja sounded too Japanese and not really Korean; moreover, it was reminiscent of the Japanese imperial era, as are many Zainichi Korean names. Yet she identified with Mi Ja and explained that keeping Mi Ja was important because she wanted her husband to understand about Zainichi Koreans. Her name Mi Ja shows resistance not only to the dominant Japanese in Japan, but also the dominant Koreans in South Korea.
Names in Constructing Identity as Zainichi Korean
Flexibility: Living Two Names
For the participant women, names indicated dual identity. Soon Ja, for example, used her Korean name when she was involved in a young Korean organization in the 1960s. By being called Soon Ja by her fellow Zainichi Koreans in the group, she fostered her ethnic identity. While she learned the Korean language and was involved in the social movement of Zainichi Koreans, she went to a Japanese vocational school using her Japanese name. She often mentioned, ‘I can use both Japanese and Korean ways flexibly.’
Thinking about her experience in elementary school, and being bullied by her Japanese classmates, she did not ‘promote’ her ethnic identity in school or work. However, she has been open about being Korean. In other words, using her Japanese name in public does not mean hiding her ethnic identity. At the same time, she uses her Japanese name with her Japanese friends and Korean name with her Korean friends. Her two names show that she has lived in two societies, which requires her to be flexible.
Names in Process of Constructing Identity
Growing up in a predominantly Japanese environment, Hong Ja felt it was her Japanese name which protected her from bullying. Hong Ja emphasized, ‘I grew up the same [as Japanese], I’d eat the same thing, and so on.’ By using her Japanese name, she did not feel otherness most of the time. In high school, she encountered other Zainichi Korean students using Korean names and Vietnamese students using Vietnamese names. She said, ‘Looking at those students using their real names proudly, I thought ‘why am I being so small [and not telling my identity]?’ She talked about her identity to her best friend because she wanted her friend to understand everything about her, and later, to other close friends. Hong Ja continued to use her Japanese name, but felt it ‘became easier and easier to talk about my identity by repeatedly telling people. It was only the first time that was difficult.’
Although she has been using her Japanese name at school, Hong Ja realized that she could use her Korean name in public traveling overseas with her South Korean passport. When she was in junior college, she met one of her father’s acquaintances on a trip to Guam and said,
There, I introduced myself as Korean . . . ‘My name is Hong Ja.’ Once I step out of Japan, I feel I am Korean. …Only in Japan do I use my Japanese name… So, I think I realize that [Korean name] is true name, maybe.
She also said that being outside of Japan made her secure:
In Japan, I might hide my identity. But in the United States, which is very multiethnic, I can feel that Korean is just one of the many ethnic groups. Being Korean is not that special and I could feel safe. In Japan, people might be surprised [if I talk about my identity] and say ‘Really!?’ but in the United States, it would be normal. When I thought about that, I felt I could say my name naturally.
At the time of the interview, Hong Ja belonged to a Korean youth organization where she was learning Korean and also starting to use her Korean name. She said it took her a while to get used to being called by her Korean name at first:
Recently I have been called by [my Korean name], and I became less unfamiliar with my Korean name . . . At first, I wasn’t at all. It is my name, but I wasn’t used to be called, so I felt awkward, like ‘Who, me?’ But now everyone calls me so naturally. I slowly have realized this is also my name; I am still in that level though.
Because Hong Ja meets many Zainichi Koreans, some of whom have a stronger sense of ethnicity, she feels that she is still in the process of recognizing her Korean name.
Mi Ja, who used her Korean name with Japanese pronunciation, Paku, Yoshiko, decided to use her Korean name with Korean pronunciation, Park, Mi Ja, when she entered junior college. She kept this name when she studied abroad in Minnesota and California. She did not have a specific reason but it sounded cute in Korean and she liked being different from everyone else. Mi Ja said there was a time she didn’t like the name Yoshiko when she was in the US although she liked both names Yoshiko and Mi Ja at the time of the interview:
I was going through anguish before I came to the United States. I discovered new self there and enjoyed myself as ‘Mi Ja.’ At that time, I think I wanted to forget about the past when I didn’t like myself. It was only recently when I came to like both Mi Ja and Yoshiko. I found that I am both Korean and Japanese. In other words, when my consciousness as Zainichi and accept everything now, I like Mi Ja and Yoshiko both.
Mi Ja has realized that her ethnic identity as Korean is influenced by where she was born and raised. Her Korean identity has similarities, but it also has differences from Koreans living in Korea historically, socially, and culturally. Staying in the US for about six years, she first tried to set herself apart from the past, and then realized her intercultural (both Japanese and Korean) identity, which is reflected by her perception of her name.
Linguistic Awareness
In her process of constructing identity, Mi Ja expressed a deeper understanding of her name, precisely in how she writes it: she does not use katakana (ミヂャ), the Japanese writing system used for foreign words except Chinese, but hiragana (みぢゃ), another writing system representing words of Japanese origin. Therefore, the fact that Mi Ja chooses hiragana, not katakana implies that she is demonstrating her identity as an ‘insider’ and not as a foreigner:
It doesn’t mean I had thoughts about this [before], but I liked my name written in hiragana more. But now, I really do think so, it’s not katakana’s Mi Ja. [I asked: Do you think it should be hiragana’s Mi Ja?] Yes. Because I was born in Japan. I am [a person] of Japan. It may sound I put the reason later, but if write Mi Ja in katakana, I become a person from a foreign country. But I am from Japan, so it’s good to be hiragana’s Mi Ja.
As she says, the Korean name Mi Ja in hiragana represents who she is, both Korean and Japanese.
It can be assumed that mobility – attending school in Minnesota and California – has made Mi Ja conscious of her identity, including linguistic awareness. Her ability to articulate her identity and reflect the Zainichi Koreans’ situation has also changed her South Korean husband’s perception of her and Zainichi Koreans. Likewise, Hong Ja’s experience in Guam using her Korean name may be related to heightened awareness as well.
Conclusion
For Zainichi Koreans in Japan, choosing a name according to the tradition of their countries of residence is becoming the norm. Because Zainichi Koreans have fought to retain ethnic identity against assimilation policies, ethnic names mean beyond official identification for them, notably, internally and possibly externally to educate ethnic Japanese. At the same time, third generation Zainichi Koreans still struggle with their names in the dominant society because of potential discrimination.
Resistance to the dominant groups has been seen regarding retaining or regaining ethnic names, which also reflects cultural maintenance. Further, a name reveals the dynamics of identity. In this study, mobility, such as studying or traveling abroad, influenced identity, and thus, choice of name. At the same time, how participants perceived their identity was reflected in all participants’ choices regarding names.
The study showed that each participant had different and unique experiences and that their choice of name or names (for those who used both Korean and Japanese names) reflected these experiences. However, since this study was conducted with a small number of participants, more study is needed for a deeper understanding of the names and identity of Zainichi Koreans.
The participants’ experiences indicate implications for education in Japan. Japanese education, which has been founded upon the assumption of a homogenous society, must include the diverse backgrounds of students in its curriculum in order to reflect the true composition of Japanese society. The participants’ experiences showed that just using Korean names or encouraging them to reveal their ethnic identity cannot avoid bullying. Teachers and schools should encourage a deeper and critical understanding of the history of Zainichi Korans to explain why they use Japanese names. Moreover, it is significant to understand the fact that many immigrants have lost their names and culture through the process of assimilation. A diverse society, which Japan is becoming even more, should accept diverse names and identities.
Footnotes
Note
This paper is part of my doctoral dissertation which was approved by my committee at the Department of International and Multicultural Education, University of San Francisco. It studied narratives of Zainichi Korean women in Japan and Japanese American women in the United States.
