What a Shame!

"Yes, Korea is a shame culture," Eben explained when I told him I felt ashamed of my grades. Feeling shame about not knowing what the shame culture is, I nodded along, pretending to understand. Later, I learned about Ruth Benedict’s theory of guilt and shame culture. She explained that individual morality and social behaviors in Oriental culture were shaped by public opinion, whereas in Western culture controlled by internal conscience. She clarifies that “true shame cultures rely on external sanctions for good behavior, … [Shame] requires an audience or at least a man’s fantasy of an audience.”

Sources of My Shame

Growing up in South Korea, I was immersed in a society where shame destroyed human emotions. The internalization of the authoritative “voice of society” shaped my decisions, both as a motivator and a hindrance. Even my commitment to go to law school was influenced by a sense of shame. Being embarrassed to attend a small liberal arts college that no one heard of, I needed to better myself by attending a highly-raked law school. I was self-conscious about the imagined judgments of the imagined audience.

My shame goes beyond the academic contexts, dominating self-worth and acceptance based on my appearance and relationship status- such as, I felt I had to look skinny enough or have a boyfriend meeting specific criteria- finance, trust funds, 6’ 5”, blue eyes (If you know the song I am referring to.) I remember standing in front of the mirror, scrutinizing every flaw, as my understanding of self-worth was contingent upon and continued to be so external validation.

As an international student who grew up in Korea but spent adulthood in the United States, shame also comes from my “double-consciousness” as Du Bois might put it. As David Brooks explained, judgments of others in shame culture come from insiders against outsiders. Not being Korean-enough nor American-enough, I was perpetually insecure in a system of inclusion and exclusion. In the absence of united selfness, the fear of rejection from both Korean and American communities intensified my sense of dislocation, leaving me feeling on the fringes of acceptance. These feelings of inadequacy and inferiority of what we often call “imposter syndrome” contribute to the creation of shame. The fear of being exposed as a fraud is paralyzing. Every misstep seemed like a confirmation of my worst fears- that I wasn’t good enough.

Escaping Shame in Law School

As my first year in law school has completed, my experience has two-folded. First, I am confident in saying that law school is a microcosm of shame. It is a mechanism recreating a set of common behavior patterns- a canned product- using various tools of shame, such as a fear of failure. Law students are labeled as failures based on their performance. Placing control freaks in a restrained curriculum, law school encourages constant competition, where students measure themselves against their peers in academic achievements, extracurricular involvements, and job status. I even felt discouraged, learning that compared to the power of internal obligation, law is a very weak form of societal control.

On the other hand, studying lawyering is in itself a route of therapy. Lawyering is an interdisciplinary practice. It forces us to think sociologically, politically, socially, psychologically, anthropologically, and more about various social actions. For example, the art of persuasion is not only about logic but also about human emotion, authoritative status, and theatrical performance. Constructing a lawyer’s theory in these ways freed me from the internalized, static, judgmental version of “what everyone thinks.” As a law student, learning that I can change how people see things makes me feel that I am in control of myself, creating a sense of accountability within me.

Also, by being a lawyer, I get to play different roles. The identity we bring into existence through lawyering- in the courtroom, in legislative hearings, in meetings with clients, and at a bar with colleagues- allows us to consolidate new personality status from our old ones, fostering growth. Playing different roles encourages us to be ourselves, freeing us from the “one character” that society defines to be. One of the most transformative experiences was participating in a moot court competition. Standing before a panel of judges, arguing my case, and working with a co-counsel, I was letting out various characters, switching roles, and increasing awareness of what I am and what I can be. I was not just a student; I was an advocate, a strategist, a communicator. These roles allowed me to explore different facets of my identity, emancipating me from the constraints of societal expectations.

Moving Forward- "Inner-Directed" Self

The pursuit of avoiding shame often came at the expense of genuine self-fulfillment. The quest left for me is to transcend and continue to find a way of escape. Many scholars are discussing what the opposite of shame might be- some say it’s honor, and some say it’s fame. My conclusion of the antithesis of the same is “inner-directedness,” as the sociologist David Riesman famously put it in “The Lonely Crowd.” Like Daisy Mae in a subway, being “a young woman… wearing a totally sheer white blouse, completely transparent… through which you can see every detail of a very expensive, low-cut, white lace bra,” who couldn’t care less.

Moving forward, I aim to cultivate a sense of self-worth that is independent of external validation and societal expectations. This journey is ongoing, but each step I take away from shame and towards inner-directedness integrates my authentic self into my personal and professional life. Taking this class is a rare and valuable opportunity, in which I am learning to navigate the complexities of shame and inner-directness. This journey goes beyond surviving first year at law school; it is about thriving, finding my voice, and, ultimately, escaping successfully. I believe I can do that.