FOR a long time, the image of most blue-collar jobs in South Korea is of work for people who don’t have what it takes to get office jobs.
With 76.2% of Korea’s high school graduates going on to higher education, white collar work has firmly established itself as the preferred option.
But as what were known in the past as “decent jobs” are diminishing quickly, college graduates find themselves in an ever-intensifying competition. This frustration has also given rise a sharp increase in the number of NEET young people – those not in education, employment or training.
Amid these changes, a small but growing number of younger Koreans have been charting different paths, defying society‘s fixed expectations and instead choosing to hone hands-on skills and pursue blue-collar or other unconventional careers in their own ways.
Silicone caulker
Kim Dong-young doing silicone caulking work.
‘I want to create the perception that on-site jobs are cool,’ says Kim Dong-young, a proud, second-generation silicone caulker. On Instagram, the 28-year-old shares photos and videos of himself at work, encouraging more young people to join the field.
“Currently, most of the on-site workers are in their 50s and 60s, with very few young people,” he says. “I want to create the perception that on-site jobs are cool and suitable for young, healthy individuals.”
Silicone caulking involves sealing joints and seams in materials like window frames with silicone, filling in gaps.
Kim‘s father has been a caulker for 35 years. Growing up, he did not think of following in his father’s footsteps; his dream was to become a marine biologist. However, life didn’t unfold as he had hoped.
He says he loves the adventurous aspect of his work and cherishes the camaraderie he has built with teammates and colleagues on project sites. Once, after finishing work early on a beachfront project, his team rushed to dive into the sea together.
Kim says he loves the adventurous aspect of his work and cherishes the camaraderie he has built with teammates and colleagues on project sites.
The best part? Kim earns about twice as much as his peers in office jobs.
He plans to continue working in the field as a caulker but also has ambitions to expand his scope to designing work clothes and developing related tools and machinery. He aspires to be a “revolutionary in manual labour” and “a pioneer in on-site work.”
“I hope more young people come to see on-site work as something cool, and I want to lead and inspire those people,” he says.
“The first one or two weeks on the job are really tough, and you might consider quitting,” Kim says. “As you continue working, it‘s enjoyable to see your skills improve. Once you master the job, it becomes easier.”
Mosquito screen installer
‘I do everything myself,’ Kim Yeon-so, 21, who specialises in mosquito screens shares.
“There is a group chatroom of mosquito screen installers. Among about 100 workers in that chatroom, there are only two people in their 20s, including myself,” she says.
Kim Yeon-so installing a mosquito screen for her client’s office.
Being young might mean not having had much time to hone a trade. But Kim says being a digital native and part of the social media generation offsets any shortfall in her actual work experience.
“Young people are definitely advanced when it comes to self-promotion.Their biggest strength is the ability to use social media.”
Kim promotes her business through the nation’s largest search engine, Naver, as well as on online secondhand marketplace Karrot. When posts are casual, written as if for friends to read rather than sounding like typical advertisements, they achieve their optimal promotional effect, she shared.
Despite her relatively short experience, she gets one or two work calls per day, earning 6 million won to 7 million won per month (RM18,662-RM21,843).
Before becoming a mosquito screen installer, Kim went to college to major in taekwondo but dropped out during her first year.
She decided on the mosquito screen business because it required only a small initial investment and did not require a dedicated workspace or storefront. She started her business with a few million won in savings she had accumulated via part-time delivery jobs since high school.
During the winter last year, Kim learned the basic skills from a mentor, and earlier this year, she started her solo business under the name “Mosquito Net Fairy.“ She enjoys using tools and doing physical labour, particularly with the impact drill.
“I know some people have biases, thinking people who did not study do this job. However, running a solo business broadens my perspectives on many things. I do everything myself, from promotion and marketing to installation. From that, I learn a lot,” she says.
Climate change opportunity: Kim decided on the mosquito screen business because it required only a small initial investment.
Her work has a seasonal downtime, which is winter. During the winter months, she still makes money by training those who wish to learn the basics of installing mosquito screens.
“When I first started this business, my father was against it. However, now that he sees how actively I am working, he supports me. My friends also think it‘s cool,“ Kim says.
House painter
Oh preparing the surface for painting.
It’s a “completely different world” from K-pop, Oh Ji-min, 29, jokes.
Before working as a house painter, Oh sang and danced in K-pop boy band BTL. After completing his mandatory military service, he decided it was time to find a more stable job.
He started out working at a small company doing office work, earning around 2.5 million won per month. Then he decided to seek out manual skills that could give him more financial leeway. That was when he was given the opportunity to work as a house painter through a personal connection.
He began this job in April last year. Oh now belongs to a team but also works individually, earning about 4 million won to 5 million won per month. During his time in the boy band, he had no income because they did not break even.
“I feel like I am living in a completely different world (compared to his idol days),“ he says. ”However, I feel much more satisfied now, as the more I work, the more I earn. I take pride in being able to responsibly care for my family as the head of the household.”
Oh finds painting very enjoyable. He says this job is different from “nogada,“ or construction site day labor, and sees it as a skilled trade that allows him to develop his abilities and feel a sense of accomplishment.
His typical workday starts at 7am and ends at 3.30pm, allowing for a satisfactory work-life balance. For painting work, two days are spent doing preparatory work and one day on painting.
The biggest attraction of being a painter, according to him, is that paint is different from the rigid precision of carpentry or tiling. There are fewer fixed rules; each person‘s attention to detail and skill varies, so the quality depends on the meticulousness and proficiency of the technician.
“I find this job artistic,” he says. “We transform a bare site into something meaningful.”
Since opening his YouTube channel to promote his work two months ago, many young people have contacted him to learn to paint. Most of them are in their early to mid-20s. So far, about 20 people have reached out to him.
“Although I do not need it now, I dream of building my own team in the future and taking on large projects,” he says.
Funeral director
“Funerals are my specialty,” proclaims Seong Ye-rin, 27.
It was in her first year of high school that Seong Ye-rin, 27, first became interested in the job of funeral director. Her interest solidified in her third year of high school when her grandmother, aware of her aspirations, told her to “do well seeing others off on their way“ on the day she passed away. This moment cemented her decision to pursue this career.
Funerals are the specialty of 27-year-old Seong Ye-rin.
After convincing her parents, Seong enrolled in the funeral administration welfare department at a college.
“A funeral director helps with everything related to a funeral for the family of the deceased from day one to the last day,“ she explains.
When a person dies and funeral preparations begin, the funeral director’s job is to guide the bereaved family through numerous decisions, such as choosing the funeral hall, offering condolences and selecting the urn.
On the second day, they assist with the encoffining process and help with the first memorial service, known as “Seongbokje.“
On the third and final day, they guide the hearse to the crematorium and assist with the final farewell.
Being a funeral director is not easy. It requires caring for grieving families, handling dead bodies, conducting memorial services and being knowledgeable about all the funeral-related procedures. “It is a job that combines knowledge and labour.”
Despite these challenges, Seong finds fulfillment in her job.
“On the last day, when the family holds my hand and thanks me, all the hardships disappear. I am also moved when they say they didn‘t know anything, but learned a lot because of me,“ she says. ”Even a small word of appreciation can be very touching.“
Seong recalls her first time touching a dead body during a training session in college. Initially, the students practiced on mannequins, but one day, they visited a mortuary and experienced handling a real corpse for the first time.
“The mortuary was very chilly. When I touched the body for the first time, I was hesitant. It was cold and hard, and I was overwhelmed by the atmosphere,“ she says. ”But I got used to it, thinking of it as if they were simply sleeping.“
At first, her parents disliked the idea of their daughter handling dead bodies and also the social stigma associated with the profession. However, their perception changed over time.
“Now, they recognise my profession and often receive requests for advice from their acquaintances on how to handle giving condolences or to help when someone passes away,“ Seong says. — The Korea Herald/ANN
