In a conversation about Mountain Language earlier this month, a friend said that he thought that this play was a representation of what happens in our society — everywhere, all the time, not just in dark corners or secluded mountainsides where the indigenous people are. Maybe not in such an extreme fashion, but haven’t I had this happen to me? Hasn’t my brother or my mom? I found that a little hard to empathize with. My mom, maybe. But I don’t really recall that I was being oppressed in any way for my language. (Though I do have to take into account that mine was probably a particularly lucky case. I’m guessing most children suffer more than I did when their language and the school’s language are different.)
Okay, I guess whatever language is always forced on you in any society, but that sort of passive compulsion and the oppression shown in the play are very different, and I’m not sure that I agree to such a broad interpretation. Certainly my language hasn’t been beaten out of me; no one tried to. On the contrary, I think I’ve been privileged: I remember gossiping liberally with my mom about people walking right past us at the mall, confident in the guaranteed security of our obscure language.
Well, having said all that, language, since my arrival here, has been an interesting experience. Aside from the predictable issue of my subpar Korean speech (update: Today, the people in the 6th grade class I observed remarked that my Korean is fine after 10 years in the U.S., despite the sick-voice from a cold) another problem has been kinda occupying my everyday life: the fear of using English.
English is revered here. It is kind of a subject of worship, and a lot of students would kill to be able to have a conversation with an American like I do. Indeed, a lot of children are killed (metaphorically) to do that.
But it is also a very judgmental society — or so I judge it to be. It’s probably a silly worry, but I’m afraid to talk in English on the phone out in public because I think that people might judge me and think I’m trying to prove myself or something. Also, some people acquire an aversion to English as a side effect of that English worship — kind of an allergic reaction. I wouldn’t want to ruin anybody’s day or fuel any parent’s inhumane vexing of their child with my “perfect” English.
Again, this is a very silly worry. But undoubtedly it has been dominating a part of my mind this last week and a half, and it partially motivated me to find a relatively quiet and private corner to make a phone call in English when I’m outside my house. I thought it was interesting to observe that in the U.S., the supposed oppressor in the Mountain Language analogy, I felt free to speak Korean whenever and wherever I needed, it is only now in the society of Koreans, whom you’d think to be the oppressed, that I feel some sort of pressure in choosing which language I speak.