Everybody wants to be born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Unfortunately, life is not fair. Many people are born in a barn instead. You cannot choose your parents. It is your destiny and karma.

However, it does not mean you have to give up or despair. No, not necessarily. Jesus was born in a barn, and yet he became a celebrity, a great man who lived a worthwhile life.

Why, then, should you not? You, too, can become a successful and great man, even if you were born without a silver spoon in your mouth. Life is full of possibilities as long as you are young.

In today’s Korean society, however, if you give such advice to youngsters in order to encourage them, you will be immediately condemned as being ignorant and inconsiderate. The same thing would happen if you told them to try harder to be successful. They will be furious to hear such advice and protest, “You think we didn’t know that? We tried already, but it didn’t work.” 

Our young people seem to have given up hope already, firmly believing that no matter how hard they try, they cannot accomplish anything unless they were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. They are furious about what they perceive as unfairness and social injustice. Like raging bulls, therefore, they are ready to charge and attack those they perceive as privileged.

To make matters worse, some opinion leaders unabashedly join them in their discontent and instigate them to blame society and the government for their predicament. They argue that, in Korean society, if you were born in a barn, your life is over.

No matter how hard you try, you are doomed to fail. But how could they say such cruel things to young people? What is left of youth if they are deprived of hope and infinite possibilities?

Ironically, many of these preachers of the predestination theory were those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. 

These days, those enraged young Koreans, who could not find a job, divide people into four categories: those who were born with a gold spoon, a silver spoon, a brass spoon and an earthenware spoon, depending on their parents’ income and social prestige. Those who think they were born with an earthenware spoon blame the gold or silver spoon holders for their unhappy predicament. Thus, one can frequently hear in Korean society, “If I, too, had a rich father like you, I could have been successful as well.”

Of course, we cannot be too quick to blame them, because we are responsible for their criticism. For example, it is our responsibility to create sufficient job openings for our young people. But we could not.

We are also responsible for creating the so-called “college entrance exam hell” and have done virtually nothing to drag our young students out of the burning hell.

Nevertheless, in the foreigner’s eye such a phenomenon may look inscrutable. For example, Westerners, who value independence, may find it a bit strange to blame your parents’ income for your unsuccessful career.

Your parents did not have any choice either because not all parents are rich and famous. In addition, blaming others for your misery looks odd too. I once hear a Westerner saying, “It is not quite right to compare yourself with others and blame them for your unhappy condition.”

According to a statistics, approximately 20 percent of American children live in poverty. Yet they do not seem to blame their parents for their plight. When unemployment rates are high, Westerners may blame their government’s policy that may have caused stagnant economy; they seldom blame the richer or the more privileged.

In Westerners’ eyes, therefore, the Korean phenomenon may look like finding an excuse for one’s unhappiness or failure. In Western culture, if someone does not try and gives up, he is immediately labeled as a quitter. If he does not have hope for the future, he will be called a loser.

Looking back upon my childhood, I now realized I was born without a spoon at all, whether a silver or an earth one. I was born with a mouth to feed only just before the Korean War when nearly all the Koreans were poor and destitute.

But I have never complained about it; I never lost hope and tried hard to get a silver spoon of my own someday. Besides, compared to the desolate and bleak landscape of the past, today’s Korean society looks like a paradise to me, not hell.

Nevertheless, I fully understand young people’s frustration. I have raised my two children in Korea and watched them suffer the scorching heat of the college entrance exam hell. Now in their early and mid-30s, they still do not have full-time jobs. My son had to spend nearly half of his 20s in the Army. Yet we do not blame others for it. A few weeks ago, LTI Korea had a job opening. To my surprise, 230 applicants poured in and all of them were highly qualified. Watching them returning home with drooping shoulders, my heart was broken.

Yet, it is young people’s right not to give up hope. You cannot say to a young man, “You are hopeless,” or “You are too late.” You never know what kind of person he can become in the future. It is a youth’s privilege to have infinite possibilities. If young people lose hope and give up, the future of the country will be grim. For me, I have never lost hope in our young people. I am so proud of them. 

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and the president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. — Ed.