Dear Readers, There have been many moments over the past two years of my editorship in which I have struggled. In fact, perhaps it would be better to describe my time as predominantly chaotic, punctuated by brief periods of calm or — even more rarely — certainty, rather than the other way around. Bu
Dear Readers, As the official English newspaper of KAIST, The KAIST Herald unequivocally supports the Black Lives Matter protests in the United States and around the world. It is our duty as a school newspaper to serve and inform our community, providing a platform for expression and education. It i
Dear Readers, It has come to my attention that my time is running out. Not only as Editor of the Herald, but also at KAIST, and along with that, in Korea. It might seem an inconsistent conclusion; after all, this nation’s borders are far broader than the limits of our campus, so why should graduatio
Dear Readers, Look at the sky. Don’t just glance upwards, really look. Lie down and let your mind float up into the clouds. Feel the breeze on your skin and bathe in the warmth of the sun. Become engulfed in the blue expanse so peacefully hung with fluffy clouds, and just … breathe.Everything is the
Dear Readers, So much has changed since I last wrote a letter, so full of hope for the new decade. Many of you are far from KAIST, far from your friends, and in a situation far from what you were expecting. This global crisis has put a stop to many of the regular fixtures of life. But, as you can se
Dear Readers, The twenty-tens draw to a close. A few short weeks remain of the decade that has guided our generation to adulthood. Take a moment to think back to where you were at the beginning of 2010; I’m sure that many of us here in KAIST now could never have imagined then that this is how our li
Dear Readers, Have you found yourself tired of young people’s complaining about the current social atmosphere? Do you struggle to understand the millennial obsession with avocado toast? Are you a member of the generation born between 1946 and 1964? Ok, boomer. Perhaps more likely, given the youth of
Dear Readers, One evening a couple of weeks ago I was sitting in my dorm room, aimlessly staring at my phone, pondering all the assignments I should be completing. A quiet knock at my door broke the reverie, and I was grateful to escape the mind-numbing insta-scroll to determine whether this was a k
Dear Readers, This summer I visited twelve cities I had never been to before. In a whirlwind I traveled through eight countries in Europe, and — via a twenty-minute ferry across the Bosphorus — into Asia. After such experiences, I wanted to write this letter with some great message of enlightenment,
Have you ever written something under a time limit? That is obviously a rhetorical question since as KAIST students, I am sure that all of us have at some point typed away like a madman in order to press that KLMS submit button before the bell hit midnight, as though we were the academic Cinderella whose magic of caffeine wore away when the new day begins.
Dear Readers,Spring in KAIST brings effervescent cherry blossoms, juicy strawberries, and warm sunlight — but for the truly “woke” KAIST students, it just brings the looming doom of the midterms and the horrid onslaught of visitors who are drawn to the campus like, well, how couples are drawn to cherry blossom selfies.
My parents were part of the “Protesting Generation”. Perhaps these stories, in my mind, had created an idealistic view of a university: the hub of creativity, the bazaar of knowledge, and the crucible of active minds fighting for advancement of society. Living in a world brimming with animosity, I had expected KAIST to live up to my image.
Dear readers,As the weather gets colder and the semester nears its inevitable end, I can’t help but imagine the bright lights and harmonious carols, that Christmas ambience signifying the end of a long semester and the start of a long deserved break. I can’t wait to just enjoy life for what it is instead of worrying about exams and assignments.
I opened my eyes to darkness. The only light in the room was from the dimly lit computer screen in front of me. As I leaned forward to look around the room, my lower back screamed in pain; I winced as I checked the damage. The muscles were tense and swollen.
More than 30 years ago, my father set his foot on American soil for the first time in his life. Young and ambitious, he was dispatched there, along with my mother and sister. They quickly grew accustomed to the culture there; they were a happy little family.