Recently, at a parents' meeting, one mother shared her concerns.

She mentioned that her child, who used to proudly identify as Korean during elementary school, suddenly declared in middle school that they didn't want to bring kimchi for lunch and would only use their English name. She also said that her child is now refusing to attend Korean language school, which they used to go to every weekend.

For parents, this news can feel like a bolt from the blue, but in reality, it's quite common. Surprisingly, this timing is somewhat predictable. It's not just a coincidence; it's a developmental stage that leads to this situation.

Research in developmental psychology shows that concerns about racial and cultural identity typically begin during adolescence, especially during the transition from middle school to high school. There's a well-known study by American psychologist Jean Phinney, who interviewed 10th-grade students, and the results are quite interesting. About half of the minority students surveyed had never deeply considered their identity, while the other half were in the midst of grappling with it, and only a small portion had a somewhat established sense of identity. The study also found that those who had already resolved their identity issues and accepted themselves were the most psychologically stable.

So why does this happen at this particular time? In elementary school, children often see their peers as quite similar, but as they move into middle and high school, the school environment becomes larger, friend groups become more diverse, and they begin to clearly recognize their differences from others. This is also a time when they visually experience racial diversity and may encounter subtle discrimination or teasing for the first time. What were previously just family rules suddenly become standards for comparison with others.

At this point, parents tend to split into two camps.

One side pushes for a stronger emphasis on Korean culture during this time. They increase the schedule for Korean language school, serve Korean food more often, and stress Korean etiquette. The other side takes the opposite approach. They decide to let their child go, thinking that since the child is struggling, it's best to give them some space. If the child wants to use an English name, they let them, and if they want to quit Korean language school, they allow that too.

Personally, I lean towards the former. I believe that when a child is feeling uncertain, it's important to help them strengthen their roots. The identity confusion experienced during adolescence is not something parents can solve for their children, but at the very least, they can provide options. A child who grows up without knowing Korean will have no way to turn back once they reach twenty or thirty and regret it. Language is an area that is really hard to reclaim once lost. On the other hand, if they hold onto the Korean language and culture, even if it's tough now, they will have one more card to play when they later sort out their identity.

Of course, this is a problem without a clear answer. I also don't believe that simply creating a few diversity programs at schools or by the government will automatically resolve this issue. Ultimately, the foundation of a child's identity is built not by school curriculums but by the small choices parents make every day at home. What is discussed at the dinner table, where they are taken on weekends—these seemingly trivial things accumulate and determine whether a child will feel proud or ashamed of their roots later on.

Which side would you choose? Would you let your child go when they want to, or would you hold on tighter? This isn't about providing a definitive answer, but rather about being prepared for the fact that this stage will inevitably come.

Knowing that there is a specific time when identity confusion arises allows for at least some mental preparation. Before adolescence fully sets in, I believe the best I can do is to help my child accumulate as many experiences as possible that will make them proud of their roots.