S. Korea sorry for Virginia Tech killings

Since living in Asia, I found my business trips to Seoul, South Korea, provided a haven in the chaos that encompasses most large Asian cities. I guess the best way to put it is that Seoul reminds me of Pittsburgh, except you have to substitute stuffed cabbage with Kimchii. Lots and lots of Kimchii. Plus they also consider Pittsburgh Steeler Hines Ward a national treasure, as his mother comes from Korea (maybe he can be Ambassador to South Korea if Lynn Swann is elected president one day).
But last week, as I was finalizing my itinerary with my Seoul office, I received an e-mail from my colleague Mr. Kang. It was as surprising as it was genuine: "I feel very sorry for the tragedy. It's extremely shocking news here ... a lot of concerns about backlash." He was, of course, referring to Seung-Hui Cho, and the massacre at Virginia Tech the week prior to my visit.
When the news came that the shooter was of South Korean origin, the whole nation of South Korea was paralyzed with a sense of grief and guilt. Such overwhelming nationwide guilt was hard for me to understand initially, but for a Korean it was easy to explain. My Korean colleagues educated me over beers and Bulgogi (Korean bar-b-q) one night. "In Korea, if a distant cousin calls you up and says they are moving in with you and your wife, most likely your whole family will pressure you to take him in." In short, Korea is a collective society. And when they heard about Cho, they felt guilty together, that he was somehow a product of their failure to raise him properly.
But thankfully I noticed my colleagues were also talking about the Cho story in South Korea in the past tense. I say thankfully because although they are still shocked and saddened, they began to realize that his story is not just a Korean story. He left Seoul when he was eight, as many Korean families go to America to seek a better life. When my wife and I heard that his parents ran a Virginia small business, our thoughts immediately turned to Lees, a wonderful Korean couple that owned the Laundromat and cleaners we used in Brooklyn. They are kind, religious people, who work 7 days a week, 12 hours a day, yet manage to drop off and pick up their daughter from school twice a day. I am sure their heart is heavy for the Cho family and the families of victims in Virginia. The wife of the owner of China Gate restaurant in Boardman, who comes from Korea, told my wife and I over Christmas how much she loved the Mahoning Valley, because of the opportunities it gave her family to raise and educate their children in Ohio. The American dream is still alive.
Fears of a backlash
By the time we arrived in Seoul last Sunday night, the candlelight vigils were over, the makeshift memorials already absent of the tearful. But parents in Korea are still worried about the backlash from the tragedy. They fear that their dream of educating their kids in American universities will only get tougher. Since 9/11, its already been getting harder and harder for foreign students to obtain student visas to study in the U.S. They now worry that Koreans will be singled out and it will be more difficult to get the needed approvals. I certainly hope not. I know there are Americans that are against foreign students coming to American colleges, getting a degree, then returning home to compete against us. But in my dealings here in Asia, I noticed these graduates are de facto ambassadors of the United States. They loved their American experience, are able to explain the American psyche to their countrymen, and bring a sense of America's ideals and ethics to the rest of the world. In this day, when the U.S.'s popularity abroad is less than Barry Bonds at a Pirates game, these grads are essential more than ever.
I obviously am biased in my love of Korea because my wife is native to there. But I also like Korea because it is an Asian underdog, with China to the west and Japan to the east. Americans like underdogs. For a country not much bigger than Ohio, Korea has done a good job finding its way in the world.
The Valley is a filled with a heritage of immigrant ancestors seeking a better life for their children, so I know it's not a place to worry about any backlash. And I hope that one day it will hopefully be a place where we can find some good Bulgogi (but I'll still pass on the Kimchii).
Eric Planey, a Valley native, is vice president of the Asian Relationship Management Desk, Bank of Tokyo-Mitsubishi UFJ, Ltd. He lives in Shanghai, China.