History of Korean Immigrants in Philadelphia

Over the years, South Korean immigration to Philadelphia has changed dramatically. Many South Koreans moved to the United States after the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, which "served to boost and diversify immigration to the Philadelphia area" (Goode, 2017). One man in particular, who went by the name Philip Jaisohn, was the first Korean to gain U.S. citizenship and helped establish Philadelphia's Korean-American community. By the 1970s, a thriving community had started to take shape in Philadelphia. After first settling in areas like Logan, many Korean immigrants eventually moved to Olney, where North Fifth Street became the cornerstone of Philadelphia's Koreatown. Korean-owned businesses and cultural organizations have contributed significantly to the city's multicultural landscape and cultural identity preservation over time. 

Growing Up Korean American: A Story of Polar Opposites

Julia's parents immigrated from South Korea to New Jersey in the '90s on two separate occasions. Growing up in New Jersey, specifically a predominantly Korean town, Julia how she was able to feel more connected to her heritage. In her words, she explains: "I am fortunate to have been surrounded by a strong Korean community, with easy access to Korean grocery stores, restaurants, people, stores, and spaces." Julia’s family didn’t necessarily take part in the traditional cultural holidays but would eat the food that was significant to certain holidays such as Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving) and Seollal (Korean New Year). South Korean food played a huge role in maintaining Julia’s identity and connection to her Korean culture.

On the contrary, Esther’s experience in Pennsylvania differed significantly. Esther didn’t grow up in Philadelphia but her family was able to stay connected to their Korean roots in their own ways despite being located in the suburbs. Her parents originally immigrated to the United States for academic pursuits and hoped to return to South Korea after its completion. Unfortunately, the economy had other plans, but that didn’t stop Esther’s parents from finding a sense of belonging in Pennsylvania. Esther explains how her "parents went to a Korean church, and there they found their Korean community." On Fridays, Esther also went to Korean school, where she made more Korean friends and picked up the language. But more than anything, she stayed connected to her roots through the little, ordinary times she spent with her family, as she explains how "we would watch all the latest Korean movies, TV shows, and news. That’s the only way my mom could feel a part of Korea at the time, so my brother and I also spent time with her learning together."

Despite coming from different states with varied upbringings, Julia and Esther both had to deal with the challenges of having two identities. I asked the pair how is it trying to navigate their Korean-American identity and upholding cultural traditions without assimilating. Julia remarked, "My understanding of my identity as a Korean American has been complex–experiencing ups and downs and constantly wavering between different ideas, notions, and perspectives on what it meant to be Korean, to be American, to be Korean American, and a Korean American woman." To Esther, navigating her identity stems from the fact that "All cultures have flaws, as they are made of flawed beings," emphasizing that she never felt compelled to choose between cultures but rather saw it as something to take pride in. Like many BIPOCs, we experience various intersectionalities throughout our lives, and we see in real-time how our race, gender, sexual orientation, and even social class are all intertwined together further shaping our identity and everyday experiences. 

Philadelphia's Korean Communities: Food & Faith

Esther has seen how Korean churches and businesses function as gathering places for immigrants, stating "Every immigrant family can probably relate to this, but when you find another family similar to you, you want to help them out and stay close together."  In addition to being places of worship, Korean churches, specifically those in the suburbs, served as gathering places for families to help them deal with American life. "Not every Korean family had their whole family here… those communities helped families feel like they could trust and rely on others." For immigrants, coming to a new environment filled with unfamiliarity allows them to create their own sense of community through places of worship. These gathering places aren't just religious markers, but a place to connect with your culture and stay updated on important matters. 

Korean eateries and marketplaces in Philadelphia fulfill a similar function by providing both cultural preservation and economic opportunity.  "The existence of Korean-owned businesses adds to the diversity of greater Philadelphia communities in the same way other ethnic POC-owned businesses do," Julia said.  However, Esther noted that the number of Chinese-owned food industry businesses in Philadelphia is higher in the metropolitan area than in the suburbs where she sees a higher influx of Korean businesses.  She explained why many Korean families relocate to the suburbs by saying how "maintaining a business in Philadelphia is difficult due to the cultures around restaurants and treatment in cleanliness & safety." 

Korean cuisine continues to be a potent symbol of identity despite these obstacles. "Traditional Korean food, especially, is a time capsule in my head—holding histories of war, people, community, and the environment," Julia shared. She considered foods that arose from the aftermath of the Korean War, such as budaejjigae, a kimchi stew with ramen and spam. "Sometimes, it’s strange to eat certain foods… because of how the meal was produced during wartime and embodies Western imperialism and interventionism in many ways." Esther has a strong connection between food, home, and comfort. "I really like kimchi stew the best because it would be cooked for me anytime I had a very long day," she said. These routine meals were acts of kindness and remembrance for both Julia and Esther. For myself, I have been able to try different Korean restaurants and Korean-owned cafes around Philadelphia. 

My favorite Korean-owned cafe in Philly is Cafe Walnut, located right in Old City on the corner of 7th & Walnut. This cute cafe owned by two brothers features Korean-inspired menu items from bulgogi breakfast sandwiches to more traditional items such as samgak kimbap and stuffed mochi desserts. The cafe also features Korean snacks ranging from Chocolate Turtle Chips (my favorite) to Honey Butter Chips and Choco-Pie, giving you a small taste of South Korea in Philadelphia. I'm a regular at Cafe Walnut, always ordering the iced matcha latte with honey and lavender with the occasional samgak kimbap. Aside from Cafe Walnut, my favorite Korean restaurants in Philadelphia are Nam Chon near Head House Square and Kimchi House @ Koreana on 15th & Spring Garden. My go-to menu items from both places are the mandu (Korean dumplings), japchae (glass noodles with veggies), and tteokbokki (Korean spicy rice cakes). Both restaurants manage to evoke a nostalgic feeling through their cooking as if your own mom or grandma were preparing the food. These Korean-owned businesses act as both a cultural hub for those wanting to interact with Korean culture and a safe haven for Korean-Americans in Philadelphia.

Korean Identity in an Evolving Landscape

Generational changes and the spread of Korean culture worldwide have shaped the drastically changing Korean-American identity.  As a child, South Korea was frequently disregarded in favor of China or Japan, Julia recalls.  "Suddenly, with K-pop, Korean snacks, and foods trending all of the time, there’s more access to Korean products and Korea as a country itself," she explained. "I think the next generation can have more pride in being Korean than shame in being Asian and a minority." Esther stressed the value of maintaining an open mind while acknowledging the increasing prominence of Korean culture.  "I was always taught to be proud and try my best to educate myself," she stated.  For her, embracing her background has required an awareness of both the positive aspects of Korean culture and its drawbacks, like social pressures and familial hierarchy.

In response to my question concerning the future of the Korean community in Philadelphia, Julia said she hoped for inclusiveness, growth, and resilience.  "Most importantly, I hope they remain kind and open to other ethnic, racial, and minority groups as well."  Esther agreed, pointing out that a fundamental aspect of the Korean immigrant experience has always been community. Ultimately, a consistent theme emerges from both Julia and Esther's stories: a home is more than simply a location, it's the people, customs, and experiences that help to define who we are, and show a representation of authenticity.  The desire for belonging exists across all generations, whether it is through late-night kimchi stew, church gatherings, or Korean drama viewing with family.