By Zarmminaa Rehman
Visuals by Saif-Ullah Khan
Toronto is always riddled with lines but today you’re more than happy to stand waiting, inching closer and closer to the venue. There’s a buzz in the air, a sort of excitement fluttering person-to-person. It takes some navigating but you finally enter, crossing the barrier of a curtain that separates you from the interior of the stadium. Watching the crowd in awe, it still feels a little surreal being here.
There is camaraderie between you and the thousands of other fans in attendance. Singing together, chatting up the people beside you, snapping pictures as the anticipation for the clock to strike the next hour ticks by.
This is the kind of feeling many K-pop fans recount after attending their favourite artist’s show. First-year creative industries student Jo*, is one of many who have shared in this experience. They recount their memories of attending a K-pop concert, saying it was more than fun, it was something they loved—a truly memorable event.
“It’s like a whole different universe when the concert starts.” they explain. ”You [feel] like ‘Oh my god, I wanna go back.’”
Jo’s introduction to K-pop was initiated when their cousin introduced them to music from groups such as Big Bang, Girls Generation, T-ara and EXO.
“I was like ‘Whoa, music video’s crazy…music’s banging,” they say. ”Before that I didn’t really have a connection to music…cause all I was ever exposed to was basically Canadian radio music.”
The Hallyu or Korean Wave, according to the Korean government, “is a term that represents the global popularity of Korea’s cultural content.” The word describes the growth and popularity of Korean culture and pop culture sparked by the success of K-dramas and movies across other countries.
According to The Korean Culture Centre, around the mid-90s and early 2000s, the popularity of Korean dramas in surrounding eastern countries such as China and Japan gained traction—the first “wave” of the Hallyu. In the mid-2000s to early 2010s, Hallyu spread to countries around Asia through K-pop groups.
With the new popularity and introduction to Korean music, the late 2010s saw an increase of concerts and events such as fan-organized K-pop Con held in Canada allowing opportunities for Canadian fans to witness performances by a variety of pop groups and soloists.
Canada was included in the Korean Foundation for International Cultural Exchange’s “2024 Overseas Hallyu Survey” for the very first time, with found consumption patterns similar to that of the U.S., Australia, the U.K., France and Germany.
The survey also showed Canada with a higher “favourability” toward Korea in comparison to the aforementioned countries, with Korean popular culture being one of the most commonly enjoyed due to variety shows, movies, music, fashion and the beauty industry, only second to that of U.S. popular culture. However, with this rise in popularity, concerns about cultural misinterpretation and fetishization have also emerged.
After exploring online for some time during the COVID-19 pandemic, first-year creative industries student and member of the Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) Korean Student Association Joanna Li came across K-pop group SEVENTEEN’s Going Seventeen variety show and soon fell down a rabbit hole.
Li first found herself drawn to K-pop four years ago, admiring the music, visuals and everything in between. “I feel like K-pop has helped me grow so much as an individual,” she says.
“I’ve met so many of my closest friends through the K-pop community by going to cupsleeve [promotional] events or going to concerts or different K-pop events.”
For Li, in-person events allow an opportunity to connect with people, feeling a genuine connection and seeing other fans face-to-face.
“Honestly, every single K-pop concert I’ve been to is an unforgettable experience,” she recalls. “It’s so nice seeing everyone that you know likes the same music [and supports] the same artist in one space.”
Despite the popularity of other aspects of Korean culture in the 2024 Overseas Hallyu Status Survey, as well as a rise in popularity of K-Pop, the favourability towards music was reported low compared to other Korean content.
As Korean culture continues to become more popular in Canada, many K-pop music fans are no stranger to being ridiculed and teased when expressing their interest in Korean pop music and celebrities.
Li expresses that despite not being a K-pop fan when she was younger, as a Korean-Canadian growing up in a predominantly white community, the criticism she witnessed others facing because of their interests in K-pop made her hesitant to join the fandom.
“Whenever the topic of K-pop did come up, there were a lot of negative comments,” she recalls. “Because [male] K-pop idols, they put on makeup and are more feminine…[their peers would] be like, ‘Oh my God, K-Pop is so gay.’”
The sentiment that dismisses K-pop as predominantly feminine often leads to the emasculation of Korean male idols, labeling them as feminine or mocking their makeup and fashion choices and referring to them as “gay” in a derogatory way.
Koreans and other East Asian people in the West have also been subject to stereotypes by being reduced to their appearance and often conflated with one another.
According to writer Grace Kao in the Korea Herald, “Today, Western journalists often confuse famous Asian Americans for each other.” She stated that, “Some media outlets have trouble telling K-pop groups from one another, much more the members within a single group. Even articles about BTS sometimes used different boy groups in the photo.” This includes NCT 127 being mistaken for BTS at the American Music Awards, or using the image of a different K-pop idol in a show segment.
Similar sentiments conflating East Asian people together can be seen in the instance of American senator Tom Cotton repeatedly questioning Singaporean TikTok chief executive officer Shou Zi Chew whether he had affiliations with the Chinese Communist Party.
Li mentions that there are a lot of benefits to the rise in popularity for the Korean-Canadian community, but not without persistent push-back from some people.
“We’re getting more recognition even as Korean-Canadians in general, [however] there’s still hate towards K-pop,” she says. “People are just reluctant in getting to know and seek out new things. I feel like…there’s definitely gonna be people that are always hating.”
“I think that it’s just really nice to come together for one person”
Cassidy Meyer-Hould, a dance associate in TMU K-pop—a group sharing a common love and interest for K-pop and Korean culture at TMU—was first introduced to the K-pop fandom during her high school years.
“I started liking K-pop when COVID first started, when I was in high school and I would listen to it everyday and I would start to learn the dances off YouTube,” she explains. Some of the first groups she listened to were ITZY, EXO, TWICE, ENHYPEN and New Jeans (NJZ). “From there, it led me to taking classes in K-Pop at a dance studio… So it’s just become a really big part of my life.”
Meyer-Hould’s passion for dance drove her not only to take dance classes but to join a K-Pop dance team—Lemonade Punch, where they do “performances [and] sometimes compete.”
For many fans, dance is an appealing element of K-Pop, with synchronized choreographies, striking stage outfits and passionate energy.
“For me initially, it was definitely the music. The performance and their energy while they’re performing is so different from Western artists,” says Li.
As a non-Korean K-pop fan, Meyer-Hould faced backlash and bullying from peers during her time in high school while she was a part of her student council.
“I tried to integrate K-pop and intercultural music into our school…but whenever I tried to host [events] during lunch, I would get bullied so bad from other people in my grade,” she says. Due to the bullying, she found herself ceasing attempts to implement any more programs, eventually quitting student council altogether. “I’d also get a lot of comments like ‘Oh you shouldn’t be doing that because you’re white and it’s cultural appropriation.”
Kyong Joon’s studyTransnational fandom in the making: K-pop fans in Vancouver, reveals diaspora fans dealing with stereotypes such as K-pop being for young, immature and/or Asian-fetishizing groups of people, leading to fans hesitating to express their interests in K-pop.
Wanting to avoid certain fan communities, Meyer-Hould keeps a distance from online forums to keep K-pop a fun and enjoyable space for herself.
“I like to keep K-pop as something that I can turn to when having a hard day,” she explains. “I feel like in order to keep it that way, I have to stay out [of] the toxic fan behaviours and toxic forums where people are fighting over stupid topics.”
Social media has been a bridge into the consumption of content beyond music, with insight into the personality of groups and the space, however, it can become hostile and act as a foundation for miscommunication between international fans and netizens otherwize known as Korean domestic fans.
Jo has witnessed these interactions first-hand. “I just feel like sometimes domestic fans are very controlling but also, I can’t generalize…but that’s just what I’ve been seeing on my own feed.”
They acknowledge that, though online spaces can be toxic, a lot of positive interactions between fans can take place. From exchanging photos in fan cafes to helping each other maximize voting power during K-pop award shows—online communities do present many benefits.
“I love fan cafes, those are so cute…I feel like that’s just a very nice thing that brings the community together, just the idea of fan cafes or coming together and funding for a billboard for your favorite idol,” they said. “I think that it’s just really nice to come together for one person [Korean idols].”
Arriving in Ottawa from Germany 12 years ago, language teacher Hyounjeong Yoo found that there was a lack of Korean language classes in the city despite hearing of potential demand for Korean language teachers and two prominent universities.
“My son had a tutor…she said that so many [of] my friends, they are into K-pop or [K-dramas] and they [were] really thinking to learn [the] Korean language, but there is no place to learn,” Yoo explains. “I think slowly [Korean was] growing in popularity…but in my understanding…Canada I feel [is] slow to adapt to new things.”
According to BBC News, by 2018, K-pop increased the popularity of Korean learning courses in Canada and the U.S. Already having taught in South Korea and Europe, Yoo and her friend made a package with her resume and teaching portfolio to send to the University of Ottawa and Carleton University.
An hour after sending in her application package, she received a response from the coordinator. Yoo recalls reading in the response, “I was thinking [about] creating a Korean course at Carleton, but it’s really hard to initiate because I have no idea what the Korean language [is] and then also it is really challenging to find the right person to teach, but you are the person that I [am] looking for.”
After a meeting with the coordinator and the start of the pilot program period in 2014, Carleton University was able to initiate the Korean Language course.
When she began teaching, Yoo saw that the makeup of her classroom was mostly female students studying linguistics who were also K-pop fans. However, she has recently seen more diversity in her students, appreciating the rich perspectives they bring into the classroom.
“They’re really really diverse [in majors] I feel that, and then also they bring some different perspective[s], not only [about] K-pop,“ she says.
With specific beauty standards and aesthetics showcased and encouraged by the South Korean entertainment industry, South Korea has found itself to be known as a cosmetic surgery capital with medical tourist rates rising according to The Korea Herald.
In tandem with cosmetic surgery, K-Beauty, is an important aspect of the Hallyu wave. NPR Seoul Bureau Chief Elise Hu’s book Flawless describes the strict standards of beauty—pale skin, thinness, narrow noses—which are not only promoted through advertisement in Korea, but are also upheld by celebrities and media personalities. In an article by Forbes, Hu mentions that the aesthetics displayed in Korean content and media can cultivate the desire in viewers to emulate those looks. She says that, “Promoting an idealized look through popular media can lead some people to doubt their self-worth and worry they don’t measure up.”
As a Korean-Canadian, though usually having pleasant interactions with and learning from her students, Yoo recalls experiencing the result of the generalization that comes with glorified images portraying beauty standards and practices in her culture.
“So [the] first time, some of my students [said], ‘Teacher, have you ever done something to your face?’” Taken aback by the comment, Yoo mentions that despite the prevalence of cosmetic surgery in South Korea, this does not apply to all Koreans, especially Korean women.
“People are just reluctant in getting to know and seek out new things”
Love for K-pop and Korean culture can become damaging when that ‘love’ becomes fetishization and includes fantasies of transracialism. Entered in the Urban Dictionary in 2017, a “Koreaboo” is a person obsessed with Korean culture to the point where they renounce their own culture and call themselves Korean. Common traits or behaviours exhibited by Koreaboos can be, looking or trying to act Korean, obsessive tendencies towards K-pop or K-dramas or the desire to have Korean partners. British influencer Oli London is an extreme example, as he underwent multiple cosmetic surgeries to look like their favourite K-pop idol: BTS member Jimin.
However, simply being a K-pop fan, enjoying Korean culture or even learning Korean doesn’t always mean someone is a Koreaboo.
Exploitation of Korean culture can cause harm to Korean people by promoting stereotyping and the fetishization of Korean individuals, which according to the International Journal of Communication, can reduce them to exoticized ideals rather than respecting their identity.
This appropriation can encourage and push harmful stereotypes against East Asian men and women that have historically been portrayed in Western media, such as Hollywood movies. These stereotypes can borderline on exaggerated portrayals or, described by Qin Zhang in Asian Americans Beyond the Model Minority Stereotype: The Nerdy and the Left Out: “Asians are also stereotyped as “all work, no play” nerds or workaholics, who are technologically savvy, but not interested in fun and social activities, and lacking proper communication, social skills, and cultural knowledge.”
For Jo, the growing popularity of Korean music is almost bittersweet as they recall mockery and stereotyping for their interest several years back. “I remember back in middle school…around high school, I told some of my classmates that I liked K-pop,” they explained, only to be met with degrading commentary. “They [would be] like ‘Oh you like that guy? He looks like a girl, like he looks feminine.’’”
Comments from classmates created insecurity for Jo about their interests. They found that after the pandemic when K-pop began to gain popularity, the double standard felt more evident.
“I [felt] like everyone kind of ignored me for it and now everyone was talking about it openly,” they describe. “It’s like ‘What the hell, this is not fair.’”
Jo feels Asian culture has been ignored, shamed and underappreciated, but now there is an increase in consumption of Asian food and interaction with Asian cultures in Canada. Though this has its upsides, it may leave some feeling resentful for being bothered for having the same interests in the past.
For Yoo, she values the positive light of the globalization of K-culture, however, she acknowledges that the image portrayed may be from rose-coloured glasses–not always magnifying the social issues that affect Korean people.
“K-drama or K-pop shows off the image [which is] inappropriate to [the] Western audience,” she explains, adding that K-dramas seem to glorify the culture to an extent that it is an issue, citing that only positives are portrayed over prominent negative aspects—a highly competitive and pressure-filled society—that are also present in the culture.
Yoo warns that the fantasy and image portrayed from Korean entertainment must be consumed cautiously, acknowledging that Korean culture faces the same risk of misrepresentation as any country, and international consumers are sold only a fraction of that culture’s reality.
Growing up with a lot more white influences, Li admits that the standards she witnessed were to be close to a Eurocentric culture, however, becoming a K-pop fan has allowed her to learn more about herself through the community. Through forming friendships and interactions with people of more diverse backgrounds during high school and university, Li said she finds herself closer in connection to her culture from joining the Korean Student Association and the K-pop fandom.
“Learning about myself and my culture, and being around people of my culture has also helped me [to grow], definitely. I’ve learned a lot about myself through these people and these communities.”
*This source’s name was changed for anonymity
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