110 Post April 20:

For this cultural post, I decided to explore a different slice of Korean culture by analyzing the social media presence of Lee Sang-hyeok, better known as Faker, the most legendary professional League of Legends player in the world. Faker is not only a household name in Korea’s e-sports scene but also a cultural figure whose demeanor and career reflect broader Korean values. My authentic artifact for this post was a Twitter/X video and translated clip of Faker thanking fans after winning Worlds 2023 with T1, a moment that attracted millions of views and a flood of Korean comments and reactions. What immediately stood out to me was Faker’s tone and body language. Despite winning the highest honor in professional gaming (again), he remained remarkably humble and composed. His message to fans was filled with formal and respectful language, using phrases like 감사합니다 (gamsahamnida) and 응원해주셔서 고맙습니다, which translates to “Thank you for cheering for us.” Watching him use honorifics even while celebrating reflected the deeply embedded value of 겸손 (gyeomson), or humility, that plays such an important role in Korean culture. In the comment section, I encountered several expressions that were new to me and rich with cultural tone. For example, many fans wrote "갓커", a slang mash-up of “God” and “Faker,” used to express idolization with both admiration and playfulness. Others wrote "존경합니다", meaning “I respect you,” a term carrying strong emotional weight in Korean and rarely used lightly. These weren’t just fans hyping a player, these were deeply respectful comments acknowledging Faker’s hard work, discipline, and years of dedication, all qualities that are heavily emphasized in Korean education and professional life. Another popular comment was "이게 바로 대한민국이다", which means “This is Korea.” In this case, fans weren’t just proud of Faker, they were tying his success to national pride. It reminded me how individual achievement in Korean culture often reflects collective identity. It’s not uncommon in Korea to see athletes, performers, or figures like Faker being celebrated not just as stars, but as symbols of Korea’s global excellence. Isaac helped me understand the nuance behind some slang terms and emoji usage I wouldn’t have caught otherwise. For instance, “ㅊㅋㅊㅋ” in the comments is shorthand for 축하해요 (congratulations), and "ㅠㅠㅠ" appeared alongside messages of emotional pride, the equivalent of teary celebration. These reactions show how emotional intensity is conveyed not just through words but through visual shorthand that is intuitive to native users. While I’ve seen similar things in English-language fandoms, the intensity of collective pride and respectful language in Korean stood out as unique. What I found most interesting about studying Faker’s social media wasn’t just the vocabulary, but the cultural insight it offered into how Koreans publicly express admiration, gratitude, and national pride. Faker himself rarely uses flashy or informal speech, even his tone online is formal and measured. In a culture where humility is prized, especially among public figures, his quiet professionalism is seen not as a lack of personality, but as a sign of character. This experience made me reflect on how social media in Korean culture often blends modern slang with traditional values. While you’ll still see casual language and memes, even fans on platforms like X or YouTube tend to use polite forms when addressing people like Faker. It’s a reminder that, even in informal spaces, Korean remains a deeply context-dependent language shaped by age, status, and social norms.