9 years. I still can’t believe it’s almost been a decade since I started my journey in South Korea. From the young age of 14, just when I was already dazzled at the glimmering opportunities in the Philippines, South Korea showed me that there are even brighter stars I can reach. It taught my younger self, albeit harshly, to love the feeling of discomfort, to put myself in daunting places that exploit my weaknesses knowing that it’s the way I can overcome them. It also nurtured my sense of security, equipping me with the confidence that I can be anything I set my mind to. But most importantly, it shaped the way I think and see the world ahead of me. I’ve met so many amazing people who think differently, had so many experiences that widened my perspectives, and learned so many things that I could not trade off for anything else. And so, as I am nearing the twilight years of my undergraduate studies and my time as a reporter for The KAIST Herald, I’d like to dedicate my final article to this wonderful organization that has been a pivotal element of my life, not only in KAIST but also in South Korea.

My first few months were intimidating at the very least, being surrounded by some talented writers whose good ideas were written so beautifully. Yet I was also inspired to be like them; hence, in the first few semesters I put so much effort into every article I churned out for this newspaper. Every word I put was chosen with deliberate care, only to be met with bloody edits by the merciless editors at the time. No hard feelings for any of the editors I met, but at that time I was quite devastated. Writing wasn’t my strongest suit during my first few years at KAIST, and I joined The KAIST Herald simply because I wanted to push my boundaries more. I was quite good at studying, but my language skills were not as good as I wanted it to be. The KAIST Herald was my avenue to be a better writer, and a better communicator. So for every topic assigned to me, I tried writing the best article I’ve written in my life. This went on and on for months, and oftentimes I would feel disappointment in some parts — maybe I’ve had too many unnatural phrases, maybe my topic was too sensitive or uninteresting, or maybe I had bad word choices. And then one day, the edits were getting fewer, while the praises were getting more frequent. Probably some members reached old age and got tired, but I did realize the compliments were coming from the newer members of the organization. That’s when it struck me: not only have I grown so much, but I was steps closer to the writer I wanted to be. 

But The KAIST Herald helped me grow in more ways than just my writing. As I wrote passionately about topics that concerned KAIST, it strengthened my interest in understanding the world around me. For all the beautiful things I’ve experienced in South Korea, there are inevitable points that I didn’t like. Getting to write about these topics in the newspaper encouraged me to read more about it, which made me understand even more the intricacies of this country. I may still not understand it fully (and maybe I won’t ever understand it as fully as a native Korean would), but it’s enough for me to empathize. The supposed English classes suddenly turning into Korean lectures, the never-ending divide between internationals and Koreans, and anything else involving the cultural and language barrier became more nuanced to me. While I still think these are problems that need urgent solving, I’ve learned to understand why these exist. South Korea has a long way to go to become more welcoming to diverse cultures, but they are working their way up there. The KAIST Herald gave me an opportunity to see not only KAIST, but South Korea, through a focused lens that helped me appreciate this place in spite of its flaws. And now that I am graduating, I’d like to stay in this country a bit more, this time to explore what it has to offer beyond the KAIST bubble.

Finally, The KAIST Herald was also a safe haven. Meeting people of different backgrounds means meeting people with different ideas, and just when I thought I was strange for holding some ideas that I felt were unconventional, some members had crazier, unfathomable ideas (I mean this in a good way). And although there are disagreements that were bound to arise, they didn’t really affect anyone in a negative way; in fact, I think the organization thrives in such polarity, wherein judgments are withheld. In an environment that felt so homogeneous and boring, The KAIST Herald introduced me to some of the best people I’ve met who gave color to what otherwise would have been a bland undergraduate experience for me. 

With only a few months left before I graduate from KAIST, and as I prepare to embark on the next chapter of my journey in South Korea, I can’t help but think of how my life would have been had I chosen to stay back home 9 years ago. Frankly, the thought even scares me. This opportunity shaped me into the person that I am — how would I have become if I remained sheltered in a place that ensured me specific paths to success rather than being here and exploring to my heart’s content? What if I studied at a different school and never got to hear of this opportunity? Or what if I didn’t care about studying at all so I wouldn’t have cared about the opportunity when it knocked at my door? I’d like to think that I was lucky, and The KAIST Herald made me feel more grateful for taking the leap of faith when the chance showed up. To all the earlier members of The KAIST Herald who defined my college experience, thank you so much for such a wonderful time and I wish you success wherever you decide to go. And to the current members of The KAIST Herald, I hope that in the littlest ways, I could have inspired you the way my seniors inspired me.