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I've written about the enduring value of a certain type of Confucian thinking in Korean political culture. A few of my Korean friends say to me, "You are so Confucian." I don't really think so, but I believe in the ongoing vitality of a certain kind of Korean Confucianism. Not neo-Confucianism or sexist Confucianism but a continuing, ever-present, and vitalizing Confucian thinking grounds my faith. This kind of Korean Confucianism avoids scapegoating, conserves and extends common self-development, and honors the ties of generations, within and outside the family. My friend accepts me as part of his family, and his son as an uncle.
Korea has given me so much self-development. My seniors and peers, academics and their families welcomed me from early adulthood to the present. They value who I am and what I do, and they let me help them, at times leading, at times following. I can tell you this experience has happened for me in the United States as well. Friendship through learning brings happiness.
Zong In-Sob recorded the tale of "The Young Gentleman and the Tiger," a story about friendship. In it, the young man accepts friendship with various objects, and gains the means to save a young girl from a ravenous tiger. Friendship brings to life what may not seem alive. It extends humanity to all who embrace it. This friendship goes beyond, though it respects ties of blood, age, and nationality.
As I reach toward my 57th year, I aspire to "give back" to Korean friends, my extended family, and to Korea. Helping my friend's son is one way of doing so. Confucius believed in taking care of basics, including the primary value of education as lifelong development within a community, as a way of creating fundamental energy for life and its continuity. When I help my friend, making him as my junior into a new friend in a way, and I help the next generation to stand on the shoulders of the present one. Confucianism teaches one to surrender one's self to life's movement and to the harmony that binds all.
Through understanding the contemporary and permanent relevance of this kind of Confucianism, I find peace and transcend the limits nations put on humanity. My friend's son is a Korean born in America and a graduate of an American university. He's bilingual and at home both in Korea and in the United States. Like many Koreans, he's looking to gain some career experience in America and chart new paths.
I have given him advice on the kind of tone with which to present himself in a meeting and how to answer questions directly and with consideration. I want him to value first and foremost what he brings to the table. We've had some success thus far, and it made my day when this young man said, "It's all about love." Whatever my friend's son gains from me isn't the main purpose. I'm trying to instill in him the impulse to keep going. Success follows the spirit to learn, along with aptitude and skill. The way of the heart is to encourage the values of this kind of Korean Confucianism.
Arthur Lovejoy's "The Great Chain of Being" reflects this way of helping others. When it occurs across cultures, friendship anticipates a fuller world of peace and happiness. I don't think Confucius thought about nationalism and internationalism. We need to overcome their limits, while respecting both. Much of the work moves to younger generations, but I think it's in good hands between the people of South Korea and the United States. In many ways, we've helped one another as nations, as people and as fellow human beings. May these efforts in friendship continue. And may my friend's son, and all young adults, take this mantle of mutual self-development for the good of society, which is what we pray for ― this common trust ― for now and forever more.
Bernard Rowan (browan10@yahoo.com) is associate provost for contract administration and professor of political science at Chicago State University. He is a past fellow of the Korea Foundation and former visiting professor at Hanyang University.