Many of us are unaware of the social constructs that we have gotten used to. We make certain political statements because many others do the same, and we accuse certain subcultures of insensitivity simply because others have stigmatized them — all without knowing exactly why. The logical foundation
With the inevitable end of 2019, I reflect on the resolutions I made eleven months ago. As all new year’s resolutions tend to be, mine were grand promises of living a healthier life, being better at managing my time, and making more time for the things I like. Well, as I sit writing this article to
It is another cold winter in Korea. Colder, if you are a graduating high school senior anxiously waiting for the college acceptance letter you crave so much. Unsurprisingly, arguments regarding the fairness of the college admissions system have arisen, with disputes especially focused on the ratio o
Censorship is not unprecedented in China. For several years, China has made headlines over its notorious censorship involving media giants such as Google and Facebook. They limit services such as Netflix, forcing companies to license content to Chinese competitors so that it can be cherry-picked and
We are born kicking and screaming into this complicated world, without a choice otherwise. But as soon as we learn how to speak, we are forced to make decisions for which we are held accountable. We start our line of dominoes with the smallest choices, such as choosing what toy we want to play with.
The Best Men Can Be. This tagline and the advertisement released by shaving company Gillette early this year sparked a heated debate, with consumers threatening to boycott the brand on one side, and people praising their boldness on the other. Gillette posted a two-minute film that engages with the
Wouldn’t life be easier if everybody spoke the same language?I’ve asked myself this question countless times during my first few weeks in Korea. In restaurants, stores, or taxis, I often have trouble communicating with Koreans. This isn’t the first time I’m dealing with a communication barrier as a
Nothing but tears came out of me. I usually shamefully hide my tears while watching emotional movies, but this time, I cried proudly and loudly. Avengers: Endgame marked the end of an era. Although I was devastated even after watching this masterpiece countless times, I held onto the hope that the h
Many startups begin with vigor, as a scrappy bunch of enthusiastic individuals pour their time and energy into what might turn into the “next big thing”. For those in charge of the ship, it is easy to get carried away with solely the destination in mind — staying true to the navigation with the expe
9 a.m. lectures are painful. Every morning in the Creative Learning Building, freshmen drag themselves to lectures just in time for in-class roll calls. 10 minutes into the lecture, half of the students already are walking back to their dorms, and the rest refuse to make any eye-contact with the professor. This phenomenon repeats itself all year round only because the attendance here in KAIST is mandatory and affects the final GPA.
Earlier this year, I was invited to a wedding for the first time in my life. I’m sure I’ve been to some distant relative’s wedding at some point in my forgotten youth, but this was the first time I was invited by a friend. Later, sometime last month, I was invited to another wedding. If the first invitation didn’t hit me, the second one did: I’m at the age when people get married.
It is depressingly humorous to find myself imagining things before they happen, and later discovering how terribly deviant those thoughts are from reality. But what is lost through spoilers is too significant to be made possible with the level of accountability we have today.
With its April 24 release in Korea, Avengers: Endgame has stirred up quite the buzz. People from all walks of life have rallied together to celebrate Endgame and its significance as the end to the decade-long story arc of the first-generation Avengers, the Infinity Stones, and their fight against final boss Thanos.
The silence in the classroom is deafening. As the professor waits for a response to the question he has posed, the eyebrows of my peers become more furrowed. Contemplating it myself, I couldn’t choose an answer right away, the solution eluding me due to the inherent open-endedness of the question. After a while, the professor, clearly agitated by the lack of a response, reiterates the question: “If you had 10 years to play and do whatever you want, what one activity would you choose?”
If we were to break down life into several broad and general categories, it would be based on social, academic, financial, and cultural aspects. From my observations, people — at least the ones I have encountered — do quite well in a few of those categories. Some might even do exceptionally well. But from what I have seen, no matter how accomplished people might be, there are still some aspects they struggle with. Struggle is universal and no one is exempt.
KAIST sucks. Now that I’m facing graduation, I want to reflect on my undergraduate life in KAIST and that is the first thing that comes to mind. There’s so many problems for fall semester enterers that I have been a victim of, and I cannot fathom how difficult it must be for international students. But this article is not a rant about KAIST; that has been done time and again. I want to think about how it transformed me as a person.
I am a minority. Those who know me will wonder what makes me say so. I am an adult male, with no identified disabilities or illness, I’m economically stable, and heterosexual. Yet, I am a minority. I am a minority: I am left-handed.
Since his inauguration in January 2017, Donald Trump has been subject to endless suspicion and scrutiny. Even the slightest bit of reason to believe that the current president has tampered with the legislative process of the country is a valid enough predication to investigate the case with full expenditure of available resources.
We simply deem meeting people online to be suspicious or unnatural. We are given the tools to find people worth connecting with as well as the tools to actually connect with them, yet we somehow find a way to convince ourselves it’s too sketchy to be worth pursuing.