All grown up.

From 이종근 of the Hankyoreh.

Yesterday, the 17th, was the third Monday of May and thus Coming of Age Day (성년의날) in South Korea, the day of celebration when Koreans receive presents for turning 20. The Joongang Daily had some background on the associated traditions in a February 2009 article noting the beginning of new monthly ceremonies:

“I bow in thanks to my ancestors and parents for raising me until this day,” Kim intoned at the formal occasion, the first following an agreement between the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts and the Seoul Foundation of Women and Family to hold joint ceremonies every month as part of a drive to reinvigorate an age-old custom that has dwindled in popularity in recent years.

When you “officially” become an adult these days, you are more likely to get a bunch of roses or excessive amounts of alcohol in a bar with your friends than submit to a formal ceremony involving different hats and Confucian customs.

When you've been blogging for a few years you can occasionally just link to last year's post when writing-up annual events. Since practically nothing seems to have been written about the day this year, I'll direct readers to An Acorn in the Dog's Food informative post from 2009 for a lot of background.


Another tradition: photographing foreigners doing it.

I'll also link to my 2009 post, where I quote from the excellent little book Confucius Lives Next Door a passage where author T.R. Reid talks about Japan's ceremony (the winter day that looks like a much bigger deal than Korea's version). After the day is finished and the speeches are concluded, Reid talks about how Japan's ceremony contrasts with his own country's introduction into manhood:

As the dark-suited officials on the stage stepped away to make room for the massive drums and speakers to be used by Marcia's band, I sat in the back of the hall trying to remember what my community had done to mark my arrival at adulthood. I turned eighteen at a time when American teenagers were being sent to die in distant jungles, which perhaps explains why the only official recognition I received was a mimeographed postcard from the Selective Service System, the official name back then for the draft board. The card didn't bother to congratulate me on my new status in society, but warned me that I faced arrest and prosecution if I failed to register for the draft within the next thirty days. That was Seijin-shiki, American style.

It would be romantic to the point of naivete to suggest that all the nineteen-year-olds in Japan that day came storming out of the local Seijin-shiki armed with a new determination to work hard, obey the law, and devote themselves selflessly to the overall society. But some of them probably did react that way. And all of those who attended at least were made aware that the community had expectations for them---that the society had certain values and that the values were important, important enough for the whole country to take a holiday, and for the city to hold a ceremony, and for their parents to sehll out big yen for the necessary outfits. The so-called Confucian values or Asian values on display at the Coming-of-Age Ceremony were no better than, and not much different from, the Judaeo-Christian values or Islamic values or humanistic values treasured in other parts of the world. But the Japanese, at least on January 15 every year, were doing a better job of emphasizing how much those values matter.

New men and women in front of Gyeonghuigung, a palace in Seoul. From the 세계일보.