“If they don’t even know survival English, they’re totally dependent on the dad.”
/Karen Crouse of the New York Times went to some LPGA Tour events and got to know Korean players. She also talked to the Brand Lady (from what I can gather), and it seems the Commish said something unusual and upsetting to some players. (Shocking, I know.)
First, Crouse summarizes:
Although language has become a primary talking point on the tour, the cultural gap may be wider than any English-speaking policy can bridge. Bivens has since strained relations more by indicating that her plan was also meant to help the South Korean players shake their omnipresent fathers. By singling out the South Koreans, Bivens has reduced them to one-dimensional stock characters, which is like reading no break in a putt on a contoured green.
There's a resume quote for ya CB!
Bivens’s motivation extends beyond the fiscal health of the tour. In a recent interview, she said her goal was to help assimilate the South Korean players into a culture starkly different from their own and to emancipate them from what she characterized as overbearing fathers. Forcing the players to learn English and threatening their livelihoods was the best way she saw to accomplish that.
“The language is part of the control the parents have over their young daughters,” Bivens said. “If they don’t even know survival English, they’re totally dependent on the dad.”
Seon Hwa Lee, the L.P.G.A. rookie of the year in 2006 and a two-time winner this year, is considered one of the quieter South Koreans, but she was outspoken about Bivens’s emancipation proclamation.
“I don’t think that’s her job,” Lee said.
You mean to be the tour's in-house, strict Freudian?
Of course, considering that the NY Times ran four player capsules in the print version, including one of Mi Hyun Kim. There it's revealed her parents wouldn't let her marry a guy until she won a major. Maybe the Commish isn't so far off?
The meat of Crouse's excellent reporting:
In Korean culture, parents will do whatever is necessary to help their children’s prospects. They have a name for it, child farming, and cultivating successful sons and daughters confers great prestige on the parents. For golfers, that means fathers leave their jobs to travel the circuit and serve their daughters in many unofficial roles: coach, caddie, chauffeur, counselor, critic and cook.
At night during the Danville tournament, the halls of an Extended Stay America Hotel smelled of garlic and kimchi as parents of the South Korean players made dinner. Filial obedience and financial independence are not mutually exclusive to the South Koreans, who see nothing contradictory about taking home the bulgogi (barbecue beef) and letting their mothers or fathers fry it up in a pan.
Some of the fathers turn up the heat, pushing their daughters to practice and berating them when they do not play well. Three caddies who work for them said there were a handful of South Korean players on the Tour who have been ostracized by their compatriots because of their overzealous fathers.
Christina Kim said: “I can understand and appreciate what Carolyn is trying to do in regards to emancipating Korean players from their fathers. However, it is my firm belief that just like in any other culture, one has to go and reclaim their independence, learn who they are as humans in this world, of their own volition. If someone is not ready to leave the comforts of the nest, or they haven’t got the strength to do it, I feel that it is their own choice.”