The Evolution of High School K-Dramas
In the early 2000s, high school K-dramas were essentially love stories. Cult classics like Princess Hours (2006), Boys Over Flowers (2009), Playful Kiss (2010), and The Heirs (2013) set the tone for the genre, popularizing the signature tropes that would come to define K-dramas for generations. Over time, the romantic plots began to take on more serious subjects, reflecting growing concerns in Korean society around mental health and harassment, which are particularly prevalent in school settings. Shows like Sweet Revenge (2017), My ID Is Gangnam Beauty (2018), and True Beauty (2020) tackled these themes head-on, attracting both domestic and international audiences. Later, bullying, crime, and action became the overarching themes, resulting in series like Weak Hero (2022-2025), Study Group (2025), and Undercover High School (2025).
While incorporating cultural nuances, such as the Confucian ideals that are central to Korean society, high school K-dramas explore the universal themes of first love, friendship, self-identity, and discovery. Their relatability often hits hard, and the depth and precision of the storytelling hit even harder. I remain struck by the genre’s ability to adapt and grow—from high school hijinks to hardcore heroes. Here’s a closer look at how the genre has evolved over the years:
The Romantic Era of High School
My K-drama addiction started with the coming-of-age love stories—I’ve been a fan of them for as long as I’ve been following the genre. But the show that got me hooked was Boys Over Flowers. And I know I’m not alone—many of you probably remember it as your gateway to the world of Korean dramas. Watching Gu Jun-pyo (Lee Min-ho) and Geum Jan-di’s (Koo Hye-sun) trials of love and the never-failing bond between the elite Shinhwa High School’s infamous clique, F4, I found myself swept up in their world.
Boys Over Flowers, with its Cinderella-like story, was a trailblazer in Korean high school dramas. It catalyzed the hallyu wave and set the precedent for subsequent dramas like Playful Kiss and The Heirs. While Playful Kiss’ quirky humor added a fresh layer to an opposites-attract romance, The Heirs centered on the rich-boy-poor-girl relationship trope and soared to fame for its lavish production, intricate characters, and intense love story.
These shows were among the top romantic K-dramas at the time, which also reflected the aspirations, values, and social hierarchies of Korean high school life. According to Kim Min-seo, who is researching how K-dramas influence viewers’ perceptions of Korean culture and life, “I remember growing up in a Korean society where adolescence was all about academic pressure and succeeding in school—I know how intense it can be. Relationships, like we find in many cultures, were mainly marriage-focused, with little room for exploring emotions or personal connections. But honestly, series like Princess Hours and Boys Over Flowers, while spotlighting such complexities, also helped shift the perspectives, especially on relationships and identity. It’s amazing to see how they impacted the way we think about these themes today.”
The Shift to Darker Themes
While romance was very much still a part of the next wave of high school K-dramas, the focus shifted to more serious social issues. The proliferation of hallyu and the growing global popularity of K-dramas were some of the biggest reasons that encouraged the makers to address complex subjects that could resonate with audiences on a deeper level. They also likely wanted to exercise creative freedom and cater to the changing tastes and preferences of viewers, who now sought more realistic, relatable content reflecting the issues of modern high school life. This is evident in shows like Sweet Revenge, My ID Is Gangnam Beauty, and True Beauty.
Sweet Revenge exposes the brutal cycle of bullying, highlighting not just the darker undercurrents of high school life but also the devastating consequences of unresolved emotions when a high schooler is mercilessly harassed and humiliated. Meanwhile, My ID Is Gangnam Beauty and True Beauty talk about body image issues and societal beauty standards, going deeper into themes of self-acceptance, identity, and mental health within Korea’s rigid social fabric.
When I interviewed Jeanie Y. Chang, a Korean-American mental health expert, about her detailed analysis of K-dramas, she said, “We do have very high standards. I think, as real as it is, we see it in the K-dramas, and that’s why I think K-dramas are beautiful: they help you understand mental health and well-being.” Her insight explains why these dramas became so popular: The harsh realities they showed provoked discussions about existing societal issues. As a result, they evolved into something more than just entertainment. They became a mirror to society and a rallying cry for change.
Bullying and Crime in High School
Today, high school K-dramas are increasingly moving away from romance, choosing instead to portray the seriousness of bullying and crime. Fueled by rising incidents of school violence in Korea, these shows now feature intense action, heated disputes, and fistfights. According to a Statista analysis done in South Korea last year, around 39.4 percent of elementary, middle, and high school students who experienced bullying reported verbal attacks, with ongoing harassment and physical assault earning 15.5 percent of the responses.
At this juncture, the overwhelming success of the Weak Hero seasons speaks to why the audiences have loved the rise of a high school hero engaging in brutal battles to resist bullies in his class. While Park Ji-hoon’s weak hero Yeon Si-eun failed to protect his closest friend from violence in the first season, the second season finds him transferring to a new school only to face more bullying. He fights to put an end to it all, ultimately rediscovering himself in the process. There’s a similar sense of intrigue in Study Group, which follows a skilled fighter trying to form a study group in his notorious high school, and Undercover High School, in which an ace NIS (National Intelligence Service) agent is disguised as a student on a covert mission. All of which explore crime and deception in a high school setting, reflecting real-life issues of delinquency or gang activity among teenagers.
Watching these dramas has been a deeply personal journey for me. I felt especially drawn to Shin Chae-kyong’s (Yoon Eun-hye) journey in Princess Hours—her struggle to adapt to an unfamiliar world in many ways echoed my own experiences when I moved to a new city for higher studies. Seeing her stay resilient and true to herself, even after being thrust into royal life through her unexpected marriage to the Crown Prince, stirred a sense of positivity in me—a reminder to hold onto my own identity. Similarly, Boys Over Flowers‘ Geum Jan-di opened my eyes to the importance of having faith in your inner voice. Her defiance of her privileged peers and her relationships with Goo Jun-pyo, even going against his scheming mother, deepened my understanding of staying grounded in your values. In Weak Hero’s Yeon Si-eun, I saw a different kind of hero—one whose strength lies in his silence, sharp intellect, and resourcefulness. His lonely journey offered a sobering glimpse into the everyday struggles many Korean teens silently endure, helping me better understand the weight they carry.
In short, as heartfelt and empowering as these stories are, they’re also packed with real talk and meaningful life lessons. And as the genre continues to evolve, I’m excited to see how it pushes boundaries and redefines what’s possible in K-drama storytelling.
