A 60-Year Development Strategy for Koreatowns Through the Lens of Jewish Community

Editor’s Note

This article offers a reflective analysis of the current state of the Korean American community in the United States and explores strategic directions for the next 60 years by comparing it with the Jewish community. Through an examination of education, religious institutions, political participation, leadership structures, and the management of collective memory, the author candidly identifies structural limitations facing Korean American society. In particular, this is a comparative study of the Korean American and Jewish communities that presents a critical yet constructive set of alternatives for the Korean American community. Moving beyond individual success, the article invites readers to consider how a more sustainable and deliberately designed community can be built for future generations.

By Dong-Wan Joo
Director, Korean Research Center

SEOUL: The early Korean immigrants who arrived in the United States in 1903 aboard the SS Gaelic formed the foundations of the Korean community while enduring harsh conditions and devoting themselves to the cause of Korea’s independence and nation-building.

About sixty years later, following the revision of U.S. immigration law in 1965, a new wave of Korean immigrants arrived in large numbers. Over the past six decades, they have contributed to Korea’s industrialization and democratization while establishing Koreatowns across the United States. Now, as we look ahead to the next sixty years, the question we must confront is how the Korean community—namely, Koreatowns—can be sustained and further developed.

To explore this question, this article examines the future strategy of the Korean American community through a comparison with the Jewish community in the United States.

True Strength Lies Not in the Outcome, But in the Process

The success of the Jewish community in America is often explained in terms of wealth, power, and strong networks. Yet, their true strength lies not in outcomes, but in the process—one that has been accumulated in documents, institutions, and culture and systematically passed on to subsequent generations.

By contrast, despite remarkable individual achievements, the Korean American community faces the risk that these accomplishments may fail to solidify into enduring communal structures. The fundamental question Korean Americans must now ask is clear: “Are we merely a successful immigrant group, or are we a sustainable community?”

In Jewish society, education is not a means for individual advancement. It is closer to an obligation for communal survival. From the traditions of the Talmud to modern Jewish day schools, the central concern has never been “who succeeds the most,” but rather “who takes responsibility for the next generation.”

Knowledge Is a Collective Asset, Not a Private Property

Knowledge is regarded not as private property, but as a collective asset, and education serves as the institutional mechanism through which that asset is continually reproduced.

The Korean American community is well known for its strong emphasis on education. Yet, most of that energy is expended as a competitive strategy at the individual family level. High SAT scores, admission to elite universities, and entry into prestigious professions are worthy achievements, but they rarely translate into contributions to the community as a whole.

As a result, Korean identity tends to fade with each successive generation, leaving only individuals behind. When education functions solely as a ladder for personal success, the community itself dissolves with generational change.

Faith Is Inseparable from Social Responsibility 

The role of religious institutions further highlights the contrast between the two communities. Jewish synagogues are not merely places of worship; they function as core infrastructure for community governance, integrating welfare services, education, political information, and crisis response. Faith is inseparable from social responsibility.

By contrast, although Korean churches are powerful organizations in terms of size and financial resources, they have often devoted a disproportionate amount of energy to internal matters of faith.

Functions such as immigrant settlement assistance, youth mentoring, and civic engagement tend to remain secondary. Paradoxically, as churches grow larger, they often become more detached from the broader community.

When churches remain confined to being faith-based institutions, their potential contribution to communal life is left unrealized.

Memory Provides Direction, Not Unanchored Emotions

Differences are also evident in how collective memory is managed. Jewish communities have addressed the trauma of the Holocaust not through emotional appeals alone, but also through systematic documentation, education, and policy frameworks. Memory has functioned not as a tool for eliciting sympathy, but as an institutional safeguard against recurrence.

In contrast, the collective memory of Korean Americans often remains rooted in the language of anger and victimhood. Events such as the Los Angeles riots, the issue of comfort women, and experiences of immigration discrimination are repeatedly invoked, yet comprehensive documentation, education, and policy development remain insufficient.

When memory is not preserved as record, it leaves future generations with unanchored emotions rather than direction.

Shaping Policy, Not Becoming an Object of Policy

Political participation follows a similar pattern. The Jewish community does not position itself as a subordinate bloc within any single political party. Instead, it has developed issue-based political engagement that remains resilient regardless of changes in administration. Civil rights, religious freedom, and anti-discrimination principles are maintained as core communal objectives across party lines.

In contrast, political participation within the Korean American community is still often driven by individual inclinations or momentary outrage. Voter turnout remains low, and policy influence limited. As long as politics is treated as optional, the community will remain merely an object of policy rather than an agent shaping it.

Wide Leadership, Not Few Leaders

Leadership structures also differ markedly. The strength of the Jewish community does not rest on prominent individuals, but on a distributed and replaceable leadership system spanning politics, law, academia, and the media.

The Korean American community, however, continues to rely heavily on a small number of individuals. When those individuals falter, the entire structure is shaken.

Reinvesting Success into Community, Not Keeping It Individual

Attitudes toward success further illuminate this divide. In Jewish society, success entails responsibility. Philanthropy, mentoring, and the sharing of networks are not exceptional virtues but established norms. Success does not mark an endpoint for the individual; it circulates back into the community.

In the Korean American community, success is admired, but it often remains a personal story. Achievements that are not reinvested into the community fail to become assets for the next generation.

Flexible Structures Vs Isolated Structures

Organizational structure represents another area of vulnerability for Korean Americans. While there are numerous organizations, they often operate in isolation from one another.

Jewish communities, by contrast, do not seek perfect unity, but maintain flexible alliance structures that allow for coordination, conflict management, and rapid response.

Fighting Discrimination: Systems Versus Emotions

Responses to discrimination also reveal a contrast between emotion and system. Jewish communities do not react impulsively to antisemitism; legal tools, media strategies, and educational manuals are already in place.

Korean Americans, however, tend to respond with anger when incidents arise, only to move on once public attention fades. The role of media is equally critical.

Media: Policy Discourse Vs Advertising

Jewish media outlets function not merely as channels for community news, but as public spheres that generate policy discourse and collective narratives. Korean American media, by contrast, largely remain focused on events and advertising.

Assessing Communal Success

Finally, the criteria for measuring success differ. Jewish communities do not ask, “How much money was made?” Instead, they assess voter participation, continuity of education, and the regeneration of leadership as indicators of communal health.

Korean American communities, however, remain preoccupied with individual income levels and occupational status. Ultimately, the essential question is this: “What will we leave behind?”

The Jewish community did not endure because it was inherently exceptional. It survived because it acted collectively and responded strategically.

The Korean American community now stands at a crossroads. Will it remain a loose aggregation of successful individuals, or will it consciously transform into a deliberately designed community?

Communities do not sustain themselves naturally. They endure only when they are intentionally designed and carefully recorded. The question Korean Americans must now ask is not, “How successful have we been?” but rather, “How sustainable are we?”

The strategies of the Jewish community are not models to be copied wholesale, but reference guides from which lessons can be drawn.