Social Acceptance: Questions of Place-based Identity
I arrived at Dagam Farm during a typhoon after a three-hour train ride on the KTX from Boryeong to Changwon. In the twenty-minutes it took to travel from the train station to the farm, I didn’t say a single word to samcheon, the employee who had picked me up. He gave me a tour when we arrived, starting at the office and following with eomma house — our meeting place for dinner, the restaurant — where the other interns were living, and finally hwangtobang — the house where I would be staying.
What interested me about all of these locations at the farm was their separation. They were all connected by a network of roads and easily within walking distance of each other, but among them were rice paddies, high tunnels, and homes belonging to other farmers. The relationship between these farms was never made clear to me, but I did learn that Dagam Farm was a member of Bitdolbaegi Village. Imo, my host at Largo Farm, had also been a member of a farm village, but her property was separate from the other farmers.
Both Dagam and Largo Farm were participants in a type of collective agriculture. In regards to organic production, five categories have been defined by Jungho Suh (The University of Adelaide) to classify different types of collective agriculture: community-supported agriculture (CSA), communal organic farming, community-based organic agriculture, community gardening, and capitalist cooperative farming. While they may sound similar, the difference between each lies in property rights.
Community-supported agriculture is a model in which consumers purchase shares from an organic farmer and receive fresh produce periodically through the growing season. This provides farmers with financial stability and allows them to produce exactly what the consumers want. Some CSA farms like Little Donkey in Beijing offer working-shares, allowing consumers to rent and cultivate plots of farmland.
In communal organic farming the land is owned by a village and managed collectively by its members. Similarly, in community-based organic agriculture land is also managed by a group of farmers, but unlike communal organic farming the land is leased and the farmers endorsed with property rights from an outside entity. Community gardens are often found in urban areas where consumers do not have access to private land adequate for growing crops. These gardens are managed by community members and often used for education and community-building.
The last model of organic farming, known as the capitalist cooperative approach, differs from the previous models in that the land being utilized is privately owned by individual farmers. Cooperatives are democratically run by their members and give small organic farmers access to profitable markets.
Based on my experience at Dagam Farm, I would categorize them as participating in communal organic farming or community-based organic agriculture. Regardless of which, practicing collective farming has been shown to open avenues for social interaction and cooperation among community members. While I only spent two weeks volunteering there, I immediately felt like I had been accepted as a member of the Bitdolbaegi Village community.
Community can be defined “as a group of individuals who possess two common characteristics: the individuals are connected to one another in a web of affectionate personal relationships, and share the same values, norms, history, and identity.” — Jongho Suh, (drawing on Etzioni, 2012)
On my first night, I arrived early at eomma house for dinner. The house was empty except for my host’s wife, eomma, and my host’s mother, komonim. Right away I was ushered into the kitchen to help cook dinner.
As I finished frying the battered eggplant, everyone else began to arrive: my host — appa, two staff members — Moon eonni and oppa, the three interns from Malaysia — Sam, Zikry, and Zul — whom I had met earlier, and three other interns I had yet to meet. The living room now crowded with bodies, we all filled our bowls with rice and found a seat on the floor around a small wooden table. After a chorus of 잘 먹겠습니다 — I will eat well, we dug into the side dishes eomma had spread out.
This was the first of many communal meals we shared at Dagam Farm; staff, volunteers, and visitors were all welcome to join in on the buffet-style lunches and dinners served at the restaurant. Sometimes, we’d even pile into the farm truck and bombard the local eateries with our large contingent. Sharing meals after spending hours working together enhanced our social cohesion and allowed me to generate a sense of belonging within the community.
My family at Dagam Farm always found it amusing when I would speak Korean. Not because I struggled or had incorrect pronunciation, but because I did so naturally. Being American, they expected me to be outgoing, chatty, and loud, when I am in fact the opposite of all those adjectives. They told me that I was a comfortable person for them to be around because my essence felt Korean; I was demure, didn’t speak out of turn, and offered small affirmations when addressed. I was respectful, and best of all, I ate Korean food well.
“Appa complimented me again on how well I can understand Korean or speak it…They also told me I’m very Korean-like in my mannerisms and it makes them comfortable. They are also so happy with the way I eat Korean food. They said I do so “deliciously.”” — July 25th, 2019
Just as they felt at ease around me, I felt a sense of familiarity when around Koreans. This caused me to question the influence nation-states have over the formation of our identities at the deepest and most innate level described by Gordon Matthews. If my personality more closely resembled that of the people shaped by an outside nation-state, then that would imply my own nation-state had no significant influence over its formation.
This does not mean growing up in the United States didn’t influence my national identity, but illustrated that the deepest workings of identity might not be place-based, explaining why some individuals might search for home within unknown people and places.
References:
Mathews, G. (2000). Global culture/individual identity: Searching for home in the cultural supermarket. New York, NY: Routledge. https://doi.org/10.1525/ aa.2002.104.1.367
Suh, J. (2015). Communitarian cooperative organic rice farming in Hongdong District, South Korea. Journal of Rural Studies, 37, 29–37. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jrurstud.2014.11.009
Suh, J. (2017). Agriculture and sustainable communities: Reflections from a comparative case study. Community Development, 49(1), 34–49. https://doi.org/10.1080/15575330.2017.1388264
