#IdolsArePeopleToo

a commentary by JJ

I find that we often take for granted the close-knit relationships between idols. These relationships, which would take years upon years to fully flesh out, are commonplace—even expected and demanded of any group to be lauded as “successful”. We are accustomed to seeing beaming smiles after award shows, bear-hugging each other, and zealously cheering for each other's every move, and I do not doubt that all of this is genuine. But as fans, we assume an unrealistic level of closeness between every group member. Despite what we may think, these idols work as entertainers; it’s their job, so their groupmates are their co-workers. I'd compare it to a close roommate or maybe a classmate you've known for several years but you wouldn't call a friend. Do you genuinely like them? Of course? But K-Pop idols inflate their relationship whenever their company shoves a camera into their faces, and these false relations benefit neither us nor our beloved idols. 

I don't want this to be seen as an exposé, dramatically revealing the so-called "dark secrets" of the industry, as the basic fact of "not everyone gets along all the time" should not be shocking. If you’re surprised or annoyed about what I’ve said, remember the countless pestering co-workers or schoolmates or even close friends that you wished you just make disappear, the friends that just needed a “mute button” for the day. These idols are people, too, and forgetting their humanity–they, too, feel the same emotions of annoyance, anger, and sadness that we do—and expecting to live hunky dory with their co-workers 24/7 is demeaning. 

Once the flashes of the paparazzi and the piercing screams of adoring fans peter out, it may surprise you to find out that some idols live in different places. Once again, this humanizes our beloved idols more. In describing his relationship with his group mates for over a decade, SHINee's Key stated, "they are not my family, and they are not my closest friends. Member is the best word for them." Despite this alleged "cold and distant" relationship, Key added, "If we become too close like family, there will be a problem. You'll begin to think about your relationship instead of the person." This should make perfect sense for anyone—there needs to be space away from the people you see so often, likely more often than your parents. He further claimed that he only became closer with his fellow members after they all lived separately. Even for an extrovert such as Key, distance from his fellow members has led to the longevity of his relationship with them. 

NCT, another SM group, is perhaps the most straightforward example of this phenomenon of K-pop idol relationships. With 23 members spanning from 20-28, there will undoubtedly be some awkward relationships filled with cringe-worthy small talk in the SM elevators or dorm rooms. NCT even capitalized off this unavoidable distance between members, creating a reality show called "It's Awkward But It's Ok," which pairs up two members with seemingly nothing in common and forces them to interact. Besides the great content, I love the show's concept for its embracement of awkwardness. Indeed, I wish it would be "It's ok" for other idols to show, or at least acknowledge, the awkwardness between some members. It humanizes idols, making them more relatable and, ultimately, better role models for us.