The Beauty of Community and Extended Family

열심히 “Yeolsimhee”

You have to work very diligently in everything you do.

It was a refrain that I remember clearly from my childhood, as I grew up in South Korea, from the time I was a toddler until my days sitting in my elementary school with 60 other students. It was a verbal message, rooted in Confucian values of diligence and hard work, both explicitly spoken and subconsciously modeled by my teachers, family and parents.

I spent my early childhood in Pusan and Seoul, in a tight-knit extended community – a largely homogeneous environment. There was little inbound immigration into Korea at the time except for the few nuns who were nurses at the local Maryknoll Hospital where my father worked. I grew up in a culture where filial piety (deep respect for parents and elders), the importance of diligent study and discipline, and behaving appropriately within an established system were our strict guiding principles. Our extended family members were tight – my grandmother, (my father was the oldest son so my paternal grandparents lived with us) often walked me to school, and I have fond memories of playing Korean cards Hwatu (화투) and singing songs (ranging from Korean folk tunes as well as Edelweiss) with my aunts and uncles.

From Korea to the Concrete Jungle

When I was eight, my family moved to New York City, leaving everything familiar behind, and I watched every assumption I had acquired start to unravel. In my new classroom, I watched a boy openly disagree with a teacher—and was shocked when the teacher welcomed his opinion rather than seeing it as disrespectful. “You can disagree with what I’m teaching. I want you to have your own opinion,” the teacher said, and I learned for the first time as early as third grade that my personal opinion counted, and that it wasn’t disrespectful to voice it! What was completely unacceptable in one context was now welcome, in this new egalitarian culture I found myself in.

Though I didn’t know it, these early “imprints” were deeply embedded in my psyche, making a deep impression on what I assumed was the “right way” to behave. My journey grew out of the disorientation I experienced when I first moved to the United States—and, over the years, from other experiences of finding myself in unfamiliar cultural territory. Each time, I had to decipher a new way forward.

Those early incidents happened long before I had a name for them. They were teaching me, in real time, how to recognize differences, navigate tensions between cultures, and find my way forward when the rules weren’t clear. It wasn’t easy, and I often struggled.

At the time, I had no idea what the definition of “culture” was. It just was. There were everyday experiences of having to figure out, often intuitively, what was expected of me and why. Over time, I became attuned to the unwritten rules that shape how people communicate, build trust, motivate others, and who belongs at the table. And, through experimentation and trial/error, I crafted my own leadership style based on the diversity of encounters I experienced.

The disorientation continued to follow me after college when I entered the workforce. Working in high-stakes environments such as Wall Street and consulting environments, I encountered another layer of translation: the gap between what people are taught to value and what organizations actually reward. I began to see how easily people can be misunderstood when the signals they are sending don’t match the longstanding leadership archetypes of their organization.

What began as a personal challenge of navigating difference became the foundation of my professional work. I recognized that organizations don’t simply bring together people who look different; they bring together people carrying different assumptions: about communication, authority, trust, power, collaboration, leadership, and success. The challenge – and the opportunity – is learning how to work across those differences and cooperate with others without losing their souls.

As an interculturalist, I now espouse – and try to practice – cultural fluency: the ability to work very effectively with people who are different from you. It’s the ability to recognize differences in perspective, understand what may be happening beneath the surface, and bridge those differences to achieve better results. My work has evolved from helping other professionals like me understand the cultural dynamics that can affect career advancement to also helping senior executives across four continents become increasingly agile in working across differences. My books and Leading with Cultural Fluency curriculum grew from that foundation.

The Learnings that Remain

I’ve learned to speak up since that third grade classroom, and have not forgotten the value of respecting our teachers and elders – so I yearn for the wisdom of experts who have done leadership work for longer than I have, and I actively solicit their advice. I couldn’t imagine doing it without their help. Their guidance continue to shape the person I am becoming.

The lasting gift that my parents gave us was unconditional love —they modeled a love and hospitality for their neighbors that grew out of their faith and the value of integrity: the conviction that we can always befriend someone new, and no limit to how big your community can grow. They could not have survived as newcomers to the country without that reliance on their extended community.

We live in a complicated world where social media, AI/tech disruption, and polarization fuel high levels of anxiety and disconnectedness in our youth. I believe this focus on intercultural leadership skills is more critical than ever. As my children enter college and the workforce, I see how deeply this chaos impacts them. What if we could give them the gift of intercultural skills necessary to work together effectively to better navigate their environment? To step outside my own perspective, to become curious about how someone else might see the world, even when I don’t agree with that perspective. And to see each new relationship as an opportunity to become enriched by another.

By teaching the next generation to listen deeply and connect across cultures, we can turn systemic division into an opportunity for collective healing.