Between Western Theories and Asian Contexts: A Graduate Student Workshop with Minwoo Jung (Part 3)
In October 2022, Professor Minwoo Jung was invited to deliver a talk on “Queering Authoritarianism: The Politics of Rights in South Korea, Singapore, and Taiwan” at the University of Toronto, which was co-sponsored by the Centre for the Study of Korea, the Mark S. Bonham Centre for the Sexual Diversity Studies, the Department of Sociology, the Women and Gender Studies Institute, and the Centre for the Southeast Asian Studies and the Global Taiwan Studies Program at the Asian Institute, University of Toronto.
In addition to the talk, a graduate student workshop was conducted with Professor Jung, moderated by Pamela Tsui and Matthew Muchas, editors of the Taiwan Gazette. In the workshop, Professor Jung shared his experiences of conducting field research in multiple Asian countries, as well as his journey as an international student and Asian scholar in North America and his involvement with queer activism and scholarship.
The conversation is published in the Taiwan Gazette in three parts. The first part features Professor Jung discussing his multi-sited ethnography project in Taiwan, Singapore, and South Korea, as well as the challenges and opportunities of conducting comparative ethnographic research in Asia. In the second part, he shares insights on how LGBT activists in different countries can learn from each other and discusses his experience balancing activism and research. In the final part, Professor Jung offers advice for international and queer studies students navigating North American academe, particularly in addressing the tension between Western theories and Asian contexts in research.
The conversation was conducted in English and has been edited for clarity.
Minwoo Jung is an Assistant Professor of Sociology and Women’s Studies and Gender Studies at Loyola University Chicago. His research investigates the impacts of global and regional geopolitics on political, economic, and social life of marginalized groups and individuals. Drawing on multi-sited fieldwork conducted across East and Southeast Asia, he is working on a book project that presents a comparative ethnography of the intimate entanglements of queer lives and geopolitics. His work has been published in The British Journal of Sociology, The Sociological Review, Social Movement Studies, and positions: asia critique. He received his Ph.D. in sociology in 2021 from the University of Southern California.
We extend our sincere gratitude to Professor Hae Yeon Choo for her efforts in organizing the graduate student workshop.
Edited by P. Tsui
Cover Image: Professor Minwoo Jung and Professor Hae Yeon Choo with graduate student participants of the workshop. (Credit: P. Tsui)
Taiwan Gazette: In your publications on Singapore’s queer activism and Taiwan’s marriage equality movement, you challenge Western theories such as queer liberalism and homonationalism and offer a more nuanced approach to understanding queer mobilization in Asia. Can you share with us how you grapple with the tension between Western theories and Asian contexts in your research?
Minwoo Jung: That’s a very important question that I’ve struggled with for many years. As someone who works at the intersection of social movements, queer and feminist scholarship, and “area studies,” I’ve felt that something wasn’t working with just applying US-based concepts and theories to my research. I’ve been trying to figure out how to address this issue in a more satisfactory way.
This is especially true for conventional social movements scholarship. If you’ve heard or know anything about social movements, then you’re familiar with concepts like resource mobilization, opportunity structure, and framing. Traditional social movement scholars often react negatively to discussions about geopolitics or other research that falls outside of their rigid worldview. It can be frustrating because they seem unable to see beyond their narrow field.
And in the case of US-originated queer theory, many of the predominant concepts, such as homonationalism, homonormativity, queer liberalism, futurity, and performativity, do not have much explanatory power in the context of my research. I realized that many of these western or US-based theories have fundamental assumptions about what the state is, what civil society is, and how to conceptualize resistance. The same goes for queer theories and their assumptions about freedom, liberation, domesticity, norms, and the normative. These assumptions are based on the realities and histories of the US and other Western societies, so applying and refining these theories to other geographic or historical contexts requires us to rethink these fundamental assumptions behind the theoretical traditions. So, that turned out to be a really big task. When it comes to wrestling with concepts like queer liberalism, for example, we have to ask questions about what liberalism means and how it functions in the historical and political contexts of Singapore or Taiwan. So, it’s a double or triple burden for those of us studying outside of the US, North America, or the Western Hemisphere.
And what I also see is a counter-trend, which could be the rejection of West-based theories altogether because, again, it’s not really working. And then I also find these tendencies, especially among my activist peers and colleagues, who are also well-versed in Western queer theories – they want to find some resources, some theoretical language that they can utilize in their advocacy work. They are very well-read; many of them are pursuing degrees in sociology, social work, and literature. But a lot of them are very pessimistic about the usefulness or practical value of queer theory. So what I see is this simplified understanding of everything, of all theories, as Western and colonial. The idea that the use of theory can always be colonial, and there’s no way to escape this. But I am also concerned about this counter-trend as well.
When thinking about theorizing from the experiences of Asia, I have combined two different strategies connected to the two different strategies of qualitative research. Michael Burawoy’s extended case method and Glaser and Strauss’s grounded theory are well-known in traditional social sciences. The extended case method involves constant revision and updates of existing theory to be inclusive of new cases. You can approach it in that regard by continuously engaging with Western theory, further expanding, revising, and extending it. The grounded approach relies on what’s emerging from the ground, more from the language of queer politics and communities, and the particular ideas they embody.. Anthropologists are really good at this kind of grounded work to focus on particular concepts and ideas that are not conceptualized. As a trained sociologist, I have been trying to combine these two different strategies in thinking about theorizing from Asia.
As I work on my book project and future projects, I’m shifting towards examining Western theory, particularly queer theory, as an institutionalized power. Instead of asking whether we can use queer theory in our scholarship or activism, I’m asking what queer theory produced in Asia does. Petrus Liu’s work, which examines the Marxist traditions, literature, and activism politics and how queer theory is conceptualized and used in China, is relevant in this regard. We need more research on how queer theory is accepted, used, and challenged in Asia. In line with the Foucauldian sense of production, we can further explore what queer theory does and produces.
Taiwan Gazette: As a scholar from Asia, what is your experience with the US academe? What would be your advice for international students in navigating the North American academe?
Minwoo Jung: I was born and raised in South Korea. When I was 27, I moved to LA from South Korea and attended different Ph.D. programs’ orientation events across the US. During one conversation with a potential advisor, which I ultimately decided not to choose, they asked me if I was going back to Korea after completing my Ph.D. They didn’t ask me to answer but said I should say “no” if someone else asked. Otherwise, no one would treat me the same as other students. It is because they wanted to reproduce themselves and their scholarship. Going back to Korea, or one’s country of origin, would be seen as cutting off ties and not worth their effort. That potential advisor told me at least to try to deceive them. I was taken aback and decided not to attend that program. Instead, I chose a “lower-ranked” program in the US rankings.
Anyway, what I found interesting about this incident, and the experiences that followed throughout my career, has been the presumed incompetence of international students, which largely overlaps with the presumed incompetence of POC scholars, particularly POC woman scholars in North America. But it also has its own specificities. One assumption is that international students will only do research on their home country, and their research is therefore undervalued. For example, they might assume that coming from South Korea means you will only study South Korea, and that is not worth pursuing. And then there is always the question of “what’s the point of studying it?” The question of why we should care is a very typical one that you can face in many sociology departments and schools, and this often targets international students and scholars.
The second form of presumed incompetence is the belief that what we learned from our country of origin or cultural context before arriving in the US or North America is not valid or valuable. Even though our thoughts have been largely shaped by these intellectual traditions, the literature we read in non-Western undergrad and Master’s programs are not meant to be cited. Also, scholarly work written in languages other than English are not often cited, and we are discouraged from citing sources that are not written in English. It takes a lot of courage for even established scholars to break from this tradition, even after gaining tenure.
And the third form of presumed incompetence is the assumption that we will eventually leave and return to our home country, and therefore, it’s not worth investing in our training since we will not contribute to North American academia or enhance their understanding of the world.
For the first point of the assumption and underestimation of doing international research, my advice is to pursue whatever makes you passionate because it will take at least five to seven years or more, and you have to be really enthusiastic about what you’re pursuing. Whether it’s me-search or they-search or any other kind of research, it has to be something that you are passionate about and good at. If that research question makes you feel comfortable and confident, then why not pursue it? Don’t worry about those who think otherwise, even if they might bother you along the way.
What’s really good, I figured out later, is that because of this presumed incompetence, we are trained much more rigorously on how to defend and justify our research questions and site selection. Nobody asks the question of why you are studying Chicago, why you are studying urban inequality in New York City, why you are studying ethnic and migrant communities in San Francisco. Nobody questions it because it’s assumed. But whenever you’re studying anything outside of the US or Canada, then you are asked: why are you studying South Korea? Why this and not that? But this has been great training for me. I now know how to answer those questions. Many domestic US and Canadian students may not have an answer to such questions. As trained social scientists and scholars, we would want to know how to justify our methods and case selections.
Regarding the second point, I now feel more comfortable and confident in juggling two cultures, two intellectual traditions, and two different languages. It has been a great benefit to me. I cannot deny the influence and foundational impact that the books I read back in my Master’s or undergrad in Korean had on my intellectual trajectory. Although I may not be able to cite them or engage in those discussions, I am still intellectually indebted to that scholarly tradition. I appreciate this more, especially in contrast to domestic American or Canadian students who can only rely on a single tradition of intellectual thought.
Regarding the third point, the decision of whether to return to your home country or not is entirely up to you and nobody else. We all know that there are some diasporic groups who can’t return, including some international students and scholars. Therefore, I suggest that you avoid working with mentors or advisors who don’t appreciate the courage and effort it takes to move to a new country and leave behind the things that are comfortable and privileged. Instead, find mentors and colleagues who are appreciative of what you’ve been through and what you’re going to become.
Minwoo Jung attended the Seoul Pride event in June 2019 and showed support for the local LGBTQ+ community by purchasing items from their booths.
Q&A
Workshop participant: Thank you very much for your sharing. I also often get asked to justify why I’m studying a certain topic, and I struggle with juggling between two cultures. Have you found a way to bridge the two and connect them through your scholarship?
Minwoo Jung: In terms of bridging the two cultures, my approach has evolved over time. When I first started my Ph.D. in 2014, I intentionally avoided Korean materials, such as TV shows, and immersed myself in the new culture. But now, I feel more comfortable going back and forth between the two cultures. However, bridging requires additional effort, such as translating your research into another language or translating someone else’s work written in a different language. I have been doing this as part of my volunteer work. But for it to work as bridging instead of juggling, there needs to be a comparable academic conversation going on in both contexts. Unfortunately, when it comes to queer and gender studies, for example, there is not a comparable volume of academic conversation between the US/Canada and other countries. This creates a power dynamic that raises questions about the point of bridging when there is no comparable entity on the other side.
Workshop participant: I have a quick follow-up question regarding the relationship between sociology and area studies. I have been feeling this tension between the two, especially when working on my research. It seems that scholars in area studies care more about the context, while the discipline has tried to move away from context to abstract and theorize. When you talk about empirical studies within a specific context, some people ask, “why should we care?” Not necessarily due to academic colonialism but because they prioritize theorization. So, how do you deal with this tension in your research and writing? How do you choose to engage with one scholarship over the other?
Minwoo Jung: That’s a really important question that I have struggled with for years, and I’m still struggling. Everyone who works at the intersection of area studies and traditional disciplines, whether it’s sociology, geography, anthropology, or literature, faces this challenge, especially when it comes to writing and publications. Book writing has more autonomy due to its length and the way different presses work, but for journal articles, it’s the most challenging part of juggling this question.
So, do I have a definitive answer? No. But I have figured out some strategies. What I do is look at all the articles about non-US or non-Canadian contexts in the specific journal I’m interested in publishing. I check the table of contents for the past three to five years to see how the articles frame their research. Do they discuss the context in a separate section or as part of the method or introduction? Sometimes, the context is hidden in the title or abstract, as is the norm in the American Journal of Sociology. Different people take different approaches. So, there is no definitive answer, but it depends on the discipline and the journal.
Workshop participant: I’m wondering about the tension between Western queer theory and my research. You mentioned that you didn’t engage with its fundamental assumptions in your research, but I’m not sure how to prove that my work is still sociology and not just a descriptive case study. If the frameworks I want to use don’t fit, what kind of framework can I use to make my work more sociological?
Minwoo Jung: That’s another great question. It could be very specific to sociology, so I apologize if you’re not working in that disciplinary territory. The question of what makes something sociology is very important, but there’s no definitive answer. It can be specific to particular journals or traditions of scholarship. When I look at my publication record, I’ve been fortunate to publish in British journals instead of American ones. Many American journals rejected me, saying that my research was not sociological enough. So, maybe I was lucky that my research has been better received in British journals. I think it might have something to do with the histories of colonialism. They’re interested in their former colonies, so maybe that’s why. (Laugh)
I also did a similar job of researching journals when trying to publish my work. For example, when looking at the British Journal of Sociology articles from the past ten years, I found only five articles related to non-Western queer studies and three in the Sociological Review. I analysed how these articles justified their cases and did a similar job for journals like the American Journal of Sociology, American Sociological Review, Social Problems, and Social Forces. Each journal has developed its own normative approaches, so I looked at how these authors managed to crack into those journals.
Again, I don’t have a definitive answer on how to convince reviewers and editors that your research is sociological enough. It’s a combination of citing the right scholars and engaging in the right points of conversation. One strategy I used was to connect my research to a subfield that has some presence in sociology, such as political sociology, economic sociology, social movements, or globalization. By doing so, I could dilute the importance of queer studies, which might be more appealing to some reviewers in sociology. However, this is not entirely satisfactory. Alternatively, I could fully embrace queer scholarship and target journals such as Sexualities or Signs, which are more open to queer studies scholarship.
Workshop participant: Could you tell me a bit more about the developmental stage of your project and how you went about choosing which subfields to engage with?
Minwoo Jung: That’s a really great question. Even when I was finishing my dissertation, I wasn’t quite sure if I could be considered a social movement scholar. It wasn’t until I won the Dissertation Award[1] this year that I felt validated in that way. But then again, how do you see and identify yourself with particular subfields? It’s not necessarily just about the comprehensive exams you take. It’s about finding the right fit for oneself. The term “fit” can be vague, especially when it comes to jobs and other opportunities. When starting your research, your advisors may tell you that there are multiple routes to take and that you could pursue many different questions in your project that are connected to various subjects. Ultimately, it’s up to you to make your work relevant to particular subfields. You can research which subfields offer more job, publication, or funding opportunities, but you also have to ask yourself if you want to engage with that subfield. You need to choose what you’re passionate about and what you enjoy reading, something that you think is worthy of having a conversation.
My struggle with social movement scholarship is that I don’t think a lot of what they’re doing is relevant to my work. Although I have friends in the subfield of sexualities in sociology, their scholarship often focuses on sexual behaviors and communities, which is not related to my work in political sociology. It feels like I am straddling different worlds. But it’s natural for your communities of engagement to change as you progress through different stages of your academic journey. The communities of engagement that excited you before entering the Ph.D. program might be very different after completing your coursework, fieldwork or when hitting the job market. Going through all these different phases will change your perspectives, and it’s nothing to worry about. It’s just part of the natural process of being part of academia.
Workshop participant: I found your talk really fascinating, and I’m curious to learn more about the point you raised about embodied knowledge. As someone who works with trans people, I often encounter pushback because I’m not part of the group. Do you have any strategies or tactics that could help me navigate this situation better? Also, I would love to hear about some of the strategies you’ve used to build networks of advisors, as I think this is a crucial aspect of academia.
Minwoo Jung: Thank you for asking such an important question. For the second question about building networks, I have a story to share. In my second year of the Ph.D. program, my advisor recommended that I take a course at UC Irvine, which was about an hour and a half away from where I was attending school at USC in LA. Even though there was no course credit transfer, I decided to audit the course on sexuality and institutions offered by David Frank. I drove to Irvine every Monday for the entire quarter to take the seminar, and it turned out to be one of the most valuable things I did in my graduate school career. David Frank ended up becoming my external committee member and a great mentor to me. So my advice for those still taking courses is to sit in on other professors’ seminars, even those outside of your institution. Taking a class together is a great way of building your network and showing your interests and intellectual questions to potential committee members or mentors. It’s a natural way of introducing yourself to others and building those relationships.
One way to find mentors is through academic conferences, like the ASA (American Sociological Association) conferences that many of you are likely attending. There are also other associations in Canada and elsewhere that offer mentoring programs, often as part of their efforts to promote professionalization. By signing up for these programs, you can be randomly matched with someone who has similar interests, and they can offer you tips on publishing, getting grants, and finding a job, among other things. You keep following up with your mentor and maintaining communication with them, and you may see them at future conferences. Keep in mind that building a relationship with a mentor takes time.
Academic Twitter is another platform where people can build networks, but it’s important to be aware of the opportunities and risks before engaging. For me, academic Twitter is like a digital portfolio of my research and teaching. Rather than showcasing my opinions on everything, I use them to make genuine connections with scholars who share my interests. It’s important not to fall into the trap of just trying to attract more followers, as the number of followers doesn’t mean anything. It’s more important to build solid and substantial connections with scholars you can have genuine conversations with. You can try reaching out to scholars doing interesting work by sending an email, talking to them at conferences, or even requesting a Zoom session. Keep in mind that it’s a long-term project, and the right connections will happen at the right time.
Regarding your earlier question about access to exclusive communities and the challenge of embodied knowledge, it’s a complex issue. Research can be done in an unethical manner and lead to the ostracization of the researcher in the community. However, if it’s your passion to conduct research with a particular community, you need to identify and convince a few key supporters from within the community who can open doors for you. Even with their support, you may still face pushback from the rest of the community. It’s important to constantly demonstrate your contribution, adhere to norms and boundaries, and cultivate consensus about sensitive topics that need to be avoided in your writing. This process of expanding the collective consensus within the research community takes time and effort. Looking at predecessors who have broken into similar communities and examining their methodology appendix can also be helpful. So, specific strategies may vary, but it’s crucial to approach research with respect and care for the community you’re working with.
[1] Dr. Minwoo Jung was awarded the Dissertation Award in the American Sociological Association’s Collective Behaviour and Social Movement Section.
