TV shows, YouTubers shed light on Daechi tiger mom's life

The "Daechi mom" serves as a microcosm of the intense educational pressures in South Korea, representing parents obsessed with their children's academic success.

In the heart of Seoul’s affluent Gangnam district lies Daechi-dong, a neighborhood that has become synonymous with South Korea’s fierce educational competition. Here, mothers—often referred to as “Daechi moms”—spend their days shuttling their children between private academies (hagwons), ensuring no second is wasted in the relentless pursuit of academic excellence.

This phenomenon went viral after comedian Lee Su-ji’s sharp and satirical YouTube parody of a typical Daechi mom, which struck a chord with millions. Her exaggerated portrayal of a mother micromanaging her child’s every move—from math tutoring schedules to mock exam prep—was both hilarious and hauntingly accurate.

What made people laugh also made them pause. The character invoked both empathy and frustration, highlighting the immense pressure placed on children from a shockingly young age. For many Korean parents, academic success is not just a goal—it’s a moral duty, a social weapon, and a ticket to a better life.

This mindset reflects a broader issue in Korean society: achievement as the ultimate measure of worth. Education is seen as the primary pathway to social mobility, and many parents go to extreme lengths to secure their children’s future in an increasingly competitive landscape.

But at what cost?

Experts warn that this obsession with academic success could have long-term effects on children’s mental health. The pressure to excel perpetuates a cycle of chronic stress, burnout, and low self-worth, with many students growing up never feeling "good enough." The focus on test scores over well-being, creativity, or social development is raising serious concerns about the emotional toll of this high-stakes environment.

As Lee Su-ji’s parody so effectively shows, the “Daechi mom” is not just a caricature—it’s a mirror reflecting a culture caught between hope and anxiety. Behind every tutoring session is a parent’s fear of failure, and behind every child’s schedule, a quiet, unanswered question: “Is this truly what’s best?”

Date: 2025-04-22

Reporter: 정호연