Conflicting National Identity

          In the documentary film Our School, directed by Kim Myeong-joon, it follows the lives of third and fourth-generation Koreans born in Japan attending a Chongryon-run and pro-North Korean high school at Hokkaido, Japan.  The word nationality and national identity is thrown around constantly in the film and this constant emphasis on that notion denotes a huge insecurity on how these students must feel with their own self-identity.  The students identify themselves as Korean, or Chosen-jin, but for me I could not help but feel that they were more “Japanese” than what they referred themselves as.  The way they talk, express emotions, fool around with their friends, and their use of Japanese strengthened their portrayal of “Japanese-ness” to me.   But it must have been intended by the director since he includes an interview scene with one of the students who mentions that they were in constant need of wearing traditional clothes and studying the Korean language in order to keep themselves as “Koreans” and not let themselves assimilate into Japanese.
          But there is also an issue noted with the term “Korean” in the Japanese language.  One of the students mention their dislike of the use of Kankoku, the official way to address South Korea in Japanese, and prefer to refer it as Minami Chosen.  And while the student consider South Korea as their motherland, they also consider North Korea as their fatherland.  This is explained that throughout the history of their school, the South has long neglected them and it was the North that supported the school through funds.  In addition to that, with their self-identity as chosen-jin, they hope more than anyone else for the reunification of the two nations.   So just from their identity as Korean alone, one can see how confusing it may be to establish a concrete national identity.  In Ryang’s reading, it is mentioned that the zainichi, Korean permanent residents, with South Korean passports do not have a 13 digit resident registration number and that they are exempted from military service and taxation.  And those who are not South Korean are regarded as stateless according to the Japanese legal establishment.  This political background further adds alienation to the concept of “Korean-ness” the students are trying hard to achieve.
          There is one interview scene with one of the students who returned from their trip to their fatherland, North Korea, she tried to express how proud she was to be Korean but failed to say it in Korean and instead asked the translation of hokori, meaning prideful in Japanese, to Korean.  This struggle with language I believe presents their difficulty in establishing a connection with their self-identity and national identity.  Amidst the cheerful and heartwarming tone of the high school life of these students, I could not help but worry about their future when they leave that comfortable bubble in a country with an ever-growing resentment against the Korean permanent residents.

Lenin Amaya