![]() |
| Sunny Chong and her daughter Justine Chang with Ms. Chong’s Audi Q7, in Dublin, Calif. Ms. Chang paid a large portion of the downpayment on her mother’s car |
At this time of year, college graduates start their new lives and tally up their gifts. A personalized flask, perhaps. A newspaper subscription. Maybe something strong to drink after reading this summer’s mind-boggling headlines.
A message to those graduates: You ought to be buying gifts, too — for your parents.
Nobody
ever told me this, not even my mother, the retired Neiman Marcus
personal shopper who never met an occasion that did not call for a gift
and helped scores of people buy them for others over the decades.
Instead,
I picked up the parent present idea from Korean-American friends. In
their families, handing over a gift on the occasion of receiving their
first paycheck (or, in some cases, handing over the paycheck itself) is
practically compulsory.
But
it’s also a source of great pride for both the giver and the recipient,
a chance to express gratitude at the end of what has often been a long
journey. And given the price of college (or the work that is necessary
to get into one that will give you a full ride), what parents wouldn’t
want a pat on the back for the role they played?
The
tradition of the parent gift may not have its roots in South Korea, for
many other Asian and Asian-American children hand out presents or take
their parents and their friends out for dinner when they first earn some
money. One Confucian text, the Classic of Filial Piety,
makes it crystal clear that delivering the “utmost pleasure” unto one’s
parents is something that you just do, lest you be a rebel against
virtue and propriety.
After
the Korean War, for reasons that are not completely clear, it became
common for young adults to buy their parents red thermal underwear.
Korean studies scholars suggest a number of possible explanations. The
red may have represented warmth, or it may have simply been the cheapest
dye or the easiest to use. Long johns were useful during the postwar
period when both money and proper heating systems were scarce.
The
underwear tradition lives on, at least a bit. One ad in South Korea for
an underwear manufacturer suggests giving its products to parents
because it offers special protection for sensitive parts of their
bodies.
Sophia
Lee, the owner of the Miss Korea restaurant in Manhattan, still has the
pink negligee her son got her when he graduated from college in 2005.
While he knew about the red thermal tradition, he wanted something a bit
more elevated for her now that he was out of the house. “He said
‘Mommy, you always wear the underwear that looks like grandmommy’s
something,’” she said.
Underwear can be a token of respect for elders of all sorts. Edward Shultz,
a professor emeritus in the school of Asian and Pacific studies at the
University of Hawaii at Manoa, received pastel boxer shorts from
students he taught in South Korea six years ago. But when Korean friends
have asked him how much his own children have given to him, he replies
that it is the other way around.
Not
every person can afford devoting the first paycheck to gifts, given the
tens of thousands of dollars in student loan debt that many recent
graduates face. But some recent Korean-American college graduates who
can afford it (or go into more debt to do so) tend toward gifts that are
luxury products.
The
mother of Justine Chang, who just graduated from the University of
California, Berkeley, spent many years driving a minivan dinged up from
various children learning to drive in it. It had a patch over a dent
that never did get painted because the family, which has had a lot of
medical bills over the years, could not afford it.
So
Ms. Chang, who is now a litigation assistant for an international law
firm in San Francisco, put about $6,000 toward a down payment on an Audi Q7
for her. She was able to afford this thanks to an insurance settlement
after her own car was destroyed in a fire, but she has been using her
earnings from part-time work since she was 15 to take her family out for
meals and for other gifts. “You should know intuitively how much they
gave up for you and do whatever you can to make sure they have a
comfortable life,” she said. “I didn’t think it was a Korean thing.”
Her mother did, however. Sunny Chong handed over her first paycheck from Captain D’s Seafood Kitchen
to her own parents. “I was so proud that I could do something,” she
said. “I said, ‘This is my first earnings, and it’s all yours.’” When
she opened her own sushi restaurant in Lodi, Calif., she gave money to her church to celebrate the occasion.
When
her daughter wanted to help with a new vehicle, Ms. Chong said that she
hesitated until her husband talked her into just taking the help and
being happy that her daughter could do it. “I am going to pay her back,”
she insisted.
According
to her daughter, Ms. Chang, gifts like these sometimes serve as a sort
of social currency among competitive Korean parents, who will compare
notes on who got what from which children at what point in their lives.
She said her mother was not that type, however. Ms. Chong, who sees
plenty of lonely people in her restaurant who do not have family nearby,
said she would never want to hurt another parent’s feelings.
Simon
Park, another recent Berkeley graduate, admitted to his own feelings of
vanity about being able to hand his mother a $1,300 Louis Vuitton purse
as he prepares to start a management consulting job.
But
his pride comes from a deeper place. One of his strongest memories from
his time studying abroad in South Korea was seeing the elderly women
who scrubbed toilets in the dorms and academic buildings. “You see on a
day-to-day level what some people are still having to go through and the
commitment they make to survive,” he said.
His
parents come from the generation that emigrated. When his family
ordered pizza, his mother would eat the crusts and leave the rest for
her children. “She’d say ‘Oh, I’m full,’” he said. But he knew she
wasn’t.
So
while he has never bought anything that expensive for himself, he
declared that the sky was the limit for her graduation handbag. “I kind
of thought of it as coming full circle, as a way to commemorate
everyone’s suffering and persistence,” he said.
And
though he agrees with Ms. Chang about the way that some parents tend to
boast, he sees the gift as more of a private exchange. “It’s a way to
say ‘Mom, you did a great job,’” he said. “I want her to be proud of
herself.”

No comments:
Post a Comment