Laughter and animated conversation spilled out onto West 34th Street, forging a path to a tan home with a distinct red roof nestled beside USC’s School of Dramatic Arts. On the patio, Korean flags fluttered in rhythm with the lively sounds drifting through the open door—a subtle, welcoming signal to passersby.
This is the Dosan Ahn Chang Ho House, home to USC’s Korean Studies Institute, where students and faculty gathered inside to celebrate Hangul Day, a national holiday honoring the creation of the Korean alphabet and the cultural heritage that unites Koreans and lovers of the culture alike.
Created in 1443 by King Sejong the Great during the Joseon Dynasty, Hangul was designed specifically to give ordinary citizens a voice. At the time, Korean literature and administration were dominated by Hanja—complex Chinese characters that required years of formal study, effectively restricting literacy to the elite class, according to The Times of India.
By replacing the dense, ideographic characters of Hanja with a sleek phonetic alphabet, Koreans of all social strata could quickly master the script. King Sejong developed a 24-letter system in which each letter represents a sound of the spoken language. Hangul was also crafted to mirror the natural cadence of spoken Korean.
The impact was transformative. Hangul rapidly democratized education, and became the primary writing system of Korea, according to The Times of India. Beyond boosting literacy, the alphabet proved crucial to preserving Korean national identity during periods of foreign occupation. Most notably from 1910 to 1945, when forcing colonial rule, Japanese imperial authorities attempted to erase Korean culture by banning Hangul and the Korean language in public life.
In response, citizens kept their history and news alive by circulating underground newspapers, letters, and poetry written secretly in Hangul, according to Yale researchers. Given its historical impact, Hangul Day was established by the Korean Language Society in 1926. It is celebrated every year on October 9 in South Korea and January 15 in North Korea.
In today’s digital landscape, Hangul’s simple structure has given Korea a unique technological and cultural advantage. Each letter visually mimics the shape of the mouth and tongue when articulating that sound, operating much like a phonetic computer code.
“The strongest part of the Korean alphabet is that it’s easy to learn,” said Seojin Park, director of the Korean Language Program and lecturer at USC, who co-organized the Hangul Day event. “It only takes two weeks to learn, and after that, students are able to read and write.”
This low barrier to entry has made Korean media more accessible to global audiences, fueling the international popularity of K-pop, K-dramas, and cinema.
Stepping inside the Ahn House, attendees received activity stamp cards printed with a clear goal: “Visit Activity Booths and Collect Stamps to Receive a Prize!” The room was filled with people milling between themed activity stations set up around the space. At one booth, participants practiced handwriting at a Hangul calligraphy station, writing out their names in the script.
Nearby, others gathered to play Jegichagi, a traditional Korean game where players attempt to keep a shuttlecock-like jegi aloft using only their feet. A crowd favorite was the food spread, lined with traditional Korean street eats including tteokbokki, kimbap and sweet chili chicken.
Looking around the packed room, the global reach of King Sejong’s 15th-century creation was clear. People of Korean, Vietnamese, American and diverse international backgrounds came together to honor this one moment in time.
For many students, that interest has grown into dedicated study. Mena Tran, a USC junior majoring in business administration, volunteered at the event after enrolling in USC’s Korean I course. Fluent in English and Vietnamese, Tran first discovered Korean culture as a child watching K-dramas and listening to K-pop. When looking to learn a third language, she was drawn not just to the linguistics, but to the welcoming community around it.
“I feel connected,” Tran said, “even if I’m not Korean by blood.”
That feeling of connection is precisely what instructors like Park hope to foster when sharing their heritage with students from all backgrounds.
“To see people so interested in learning more about Hangul and Korean culture makes me so proud,” said Park, who was born and raised in South Korea. “These moments are why I love my job.”
Edited by Natalie Cerna, Scott Hills and Katherine Contreras Hernandez