Parents’ Day in Korea: A Gratitude Remix with Korean Soul (Family Month Special Part 2)
A deep dive into the tradition, meaning, and modern-day challenges of Korea’s Parents’ Day.
🎧 Bonus: Listen to the Audio Version!
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much research goes into every Substack post I write. Since this isn’t a book, I try to keep each one digestible enough to read in a single sitting—which means a lot of great material ends up on the cutting room floor.
So when I saw that Google’s new NotebookLM could turn research into a conversational audio format, I had to try it. This audio version includes not only what you’ll read here, but also unused notes and insights that didn’t make it into the written post. Feel free to read the article or listen to the audio version—or do both.
And if you do listen, I’d love to hear what you think!
Happy Mother’s Day!
Today is Mother’s Day not just in the U.S., but in dozens of countries around the world—Canada, Brazil, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, South Africa, Japan, the Philippines, Kenya, Sweden, and many others.
As we celebrate mothers today, it’s also a great moment to look at how other cultures express love and gratitude to parents.
In Korea, for instance, Mother’s Day doesn’t exist as a separate holiday. Instead, both mothers and fathers are honored together on Parents’ Day, which falls on May 8.
Last week, we talked about Children’s Day—today, we’re continuing that thread with a look at Parents’ Day (and yes, we’ll also uncover why Korea picked May 8th specifically!).
(Quick housekeeping before we dive in: I originally planned to cover both Parents' Day and Teachers' Day in one go. But, let's just say my enthusiasm (and word count!) got the better of Substack's email length limits. So, I’ve split them—meaning Teachers' Day gets its own dedicated spotlight next week!)
(New here? You can catch up on the main series starting with “Growing Up in Korea: But First, Why Korea?”)
Beyond Mother's Day: Carnations, Filial Piety, and Korea's Wild Month of Gratitude (Parents' Day Edition!)
May in South Korea just feels different. There’s a certain buzz in the air, a collective hum of appreciation that’s hard to miss. Why?
Because the calendar is basically a gratitude gauntlet: Children’s Day (May 5th), then bam! Parents’ Day (May 8th), followed swiftly by Teachers’ Day (May 15th).
This impressive trifecta is why Koreans lovingly call May 'Family Month' (가정의 달 – Gajeong-ui Dal). It’s less a gentle suggestion and more a national memo to consciously hit the pause button and say thank you—to parents, elders, teachers, and yes, even the kids who just had their big day. It’s a whole 31-day vibe dedicated to the people who shape our lives.
For those of us looking in from the outside, this idea of an entire month calendared around familial and social bonds is pretty revealing. It’s like a cultural neon sign flashing: “Relationships and community? Yeah, we take that seriously here.”
Now, lots of countries have a Mother's Day and a Father's Day. But as with many things in Korea, the local version—Parents’ Day—comes with its own unique plot twists and cultural seasoning.
For instance, ever heard of a country that decided, “You know what? Separate days for Mom and Dad are too much fuss. Let’s just honor them together”? Korea did. Intrigued? You should be.
Parents’ Day, May 8th (Eobeoinal, 어버이날): One Day to Thank Them Both
So, What Exactly Is It?
Celebrated every year on May 8, Parents’ Day (어버이날, Eobeoinal) is a nationally recognized day in Korea. Now, hold your horses—it’s not quite a public holiday where everyone gets the day off (sorry, kids, school’s still on!), but it’s a very big deal, officially designated to express deep gratitude for the “grace of parents” and, by extension, to honor all the elders in your family and community.
At its heart, this day is powered by a foundational Korean value called Hyo (효 – 孝).
Hyo often gets translated as “filial piety,” which—let’s be honest—sounds a bit like something you’d whisper in a library. And it can be just as unfamiliar as it sounds. When I used to teach Intercultural Communication at a university in the U.S., I actually had students admit they were hearing the term ‘filial piety’ for the very first time!
But it’s so much more than just saying “thanks, Mom and Dad.”
Think of Hyo as a cultural super-concept encompassing deep respect, loving care, dutiful support for your parents (especially as they age), and even reverence for your ancestors. It’s traditionally been the bedrock of social order and personal virtue in Korea. The whole idea of setting aside a specific Parents’ Day was also a nudge to remember these traditional values, especially as Korea modernized rapidly and family structures changed.
The Origin Story: Or, How Korea Said “Thanks, But We’ll Do It Our Way” to Mother’s & Father’s Day
Plot twist!
The direct ancestor of Parents’ Day was actually Mother’s Day, first popping up on the Korean calendar on May 8th, 1956. This was a clear nod to Western culture, particularly the American tradition started by Anna Jarvis (who, incidentally, also gifted Korea its undying love for carnations). Christian organizations in Korea were key players in introducing and popularizing Mother's Day celebrations.
So, if they had Mother’s Day, why the switch?
Well, after 17 years of celebrating moms, someone (probably a dad—let’s be real—we see you, dads!) pointed out the obvious. In 1973, the day was officially renamed and its scope broadened to Parents’ Day (어버이날, Eobeoinal). The simplest explanation? Fairness—the dads wanted in on the appreciation action!
But the change was more profound than just adding “and Dad.”
The government consciously wove this Western-inspired day into Korea’s powerful pre-existing cultural fabric, especially Hyo and another key concept: Gyeongnohyochin (경로효친), a term that basically means “respect the elderly and love/be filial to your parents.”¹ It was a masterful act of cultural blending—take a foreign idea, give it a Korean spin, and reinforce local values.
This all-in-one approach makes Korea pretty unique. Most countries, like the U.S., China, and Japan, stick to separate days for Mom and Dad.
How Koreans Celebrate: Carnations, Cash, and Cherished Company
My husband and I, of course, called both our parents in Korea for Parents’ Day. When we reached my mom, she was in the middle of a Bible study. Normally, she wouldn’t have picked up, but she said she answered because it was Parents’ Day. During our call, she mentioned that she and a fellow attendee had just been talking about how older parents often feel more hurt when their children forget Parents’ Day than when they forget their birthdays.
Yes—so many people take Parents’ Day more seriously than birthdays.
So—how exactly do people in Korea mark such an important day?
Carnations Are Mandatory (Almost): The carnation is the undisputed symbol. Kids of all ages present carnations—typically red or pink for living parents, and white when remembering deceased ones—often pinning them right onto their parents’ chests. A sweet, visible thank you. The flower’s symbolism of love, gratitude, and respect is a perfect match.
Anthems of Appreciation from School Days: Beyond the visual symbols, sound plays a powerful role in Parents’ Day. Songs like the iconic “Mother’s Heart” (어머니의 마음) are deeply woven into Korean childhoods. With lyrics like “Forgetting all the pain of childbirth” (낳실 제 괴로움 다 잊으시고) and imagery of “worn hands and feet from hardship,” the song was widely taught and sung—often tearfully—in elementary and middle schools across the country. These melodies became a shared emotional language, reinforcing the meaning of the day from a young age.
You can find many versions online—I brought a children’s choir version.Family First (and Food, Lots of Food): At its core, it’s a family day. Children write heartfelt letters or cards (which often trump expensive presents), and gifts—including cash—are common and appreciated. Families gather for meals, outings, or just quality time. A visit home, for adult children, is practically expected.
The Government Gets Involved Too: It’s not just a private family affair. The government holds ceremonies to honor “exemplary parents” (장한 어버이, janghan eobeoi) and individuals who’ve shown exceptional Hyo, handing out medals and citations. Local governments host elder banquets, subsidize outings, and run campaigns to promote traditional values.
Modern Meaning: Still Relevant, or Just Retail Therapy (and Deeper Cracks)?
Parents’ Day still holds deep meaning for most Koreans—it’s a vital annual ritual for expressing gratitude, strengthening family bonds, and reaffirming respect for elders. But like any tradition in a rapidly changing society, it’s not without pressure.
There’s grumbling about commercialization—gifts, cash amounts, and societal expectations.
But beyond that, a deeper tension is emerging.
Some younger Koreans express resentment toward their parents, especially mothers. Online communities exist where people vent and even sever ties with family after adulthood. It’s a painful contrast to the ideal of Hyo, and one I’ll explore more deeply in a future post.
Yet despite these cracks—light or profound—Parents’ Day endures.
It’s still a day when many Koreans pause to say: “Thanks for everything, Mom and Dad.”
Even if that “everything,” and the ability to say “thanks” is becoming more complicated.
Next Up on Our May Gratitude Tour:
Whew! That’s Parents’ Day in a (rather large) nutshell.
But the appreciation train doesn’t stop here! In Korea’s Family Month, another key figure gets a day in the sun.
Join me next time as we explore Teachers’ Day (Seuseung-ui Nal, 스승의 날). If you thought Parents’ Day had twists, wait until you meet the 15th-century king who helped shape it—and the modern debates about what respect really means.
Until then, maybe think about someone who’s been like a parent to you. 💐
(And yes, that medical school craze article? Still marinating. We’ll get there!)
🗣 What are your thoughts on a combined Parents’ Day? Does your culture do something similar? Let me know below!
Dr. Yoon,
Thank you so much for sharing this information! Posts like this, highlighting major holidays celebrated in other countries, offer valuable cultural insight and encourage readers to reflect on their own traditions in comparison.
As an Arab American raised in the U.S., I’ve observed holidays here that aren’t recognized in my country—and vice versa. For example, I was surprised to learn (just this year, in 2025!) about Teacher Appreciation Week. Even though I went through the American school system, I had never heard of it before. Similarly, I recently discovered there’s a day specifically dedicated to children—something I didn’t grow up celebrating or hearing about!
One point in your post that particularly stood out to me was the celebration of Mother’s Day. In my country, as in many parts of the Middle East, Mother’s Day is celebrated on March 21st each year, marking the first day of spring.
What I found especially interesting is the topic of Father’s Day. In my country, it’s not celebrated at all. While some Middle Eastern countries like Egypt, Lebanon, and the UAE do recognize it, in my experience, many men in my culture see the idea as conflicting with traditional notions of masculinity. There’s a belief that since women tend to take on most—if not all—child-rearing responsibilities, celebrating fathers might somehow diminish their image. It may sound strange, but in some ways, Arab men—especially from my country—are raised with a very different cultural lens.
I’ve even seen these cultural differences reflected in personal experiences—like the blind dates arranged by my mother and sister! For example, I personally found Lebanese men a bit too soft for my taste, and Iraqi men just weren’t quite right for me either.
Interestingly, through my husband’s family, I’ve learned that there has been some recent change. Since around 2020, some families have started to acknowledge father figures, although the idea still struggles against deeply rooted beliefs about masculinity. That said, I’ve noticed society gradually shifting—just not universally quite yet.
Thanks again for sparking such a meaningful reflection!