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writing samples
I've written a variety of different texts throughout high school, including short stories, opinion pieces, and plays. Here's a few samples of my writing!
Cartoons
Cartoons drawn for The Dartmouth—Dartmouth's student-run newspaper.
Alexandra
A play about Cassandra, a figure from Greek mythology. Accessible here: https://wavefire.wpenginepowered.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/ALEXANDRA-by-grace-lee.pdf
The Last Call
A creative writing piece about the environment. Written for the school newspaper.
--
“Please,” she sobbed, a small tear stinging its way down her cheek. Deaf to her words, the sea of strangers rushed out as quickly as they had flooded the scene, the way they had done so many times before. The few that noticed the huddled mass on the floor convinced themselves they were too busy, while most simply did not care.
But everyone ignored her.
They all knew her, remembered her to be the sea, something similar of little importance to them. Over time, anyway, she had merged into the gray background, and soon they could not be bothered. . . to them, she had always been there that way—just a grimy, faceless figure without a name on the streets. They didn’t even know she could breathe.
But she could feel herself suffocating, drowning beneath her own waves. It’d only been a few decades, yet she was nothing like she had been before. Her hair was murky and her skin adorned with bloody plastic shards, a twisted sort of jewelry.
She stood there hunched alone, watching the tide of humans pass by. Unseeing. Unfeeling. Amidst the din, she was lifeless except for her eyes that desperately scanned the crowd.
“Help,” she whispered. Her hands trembled as she reached out for the human next to her, only to be carelessly swatted away. She cowered as another net flung itself up in the air—almost tantalizing as it shimmered—but came crashing down on her, and she felt the fishhooks dig in, devouring her flesh. Frantic, she tried to tear off the cuffs that had entangled itself round her wrists, but a flurry of waste battered her down. Another cigarette butt, another washed out wrapper, another clouded glass bottle.
She couldn’t see, but she knew they could. She tried to reach out again, groping around blindly, but there was no one. Where were they? Surely they would help her, surely they wouldn’t ignore her . . . but as the clack of their shoes faded in the distance, she felt her heart sink.
She collapsed onto her hands, feeling the acrid burn of the black sludge on her skin, staining it as dark as ink. She caught her reflection in the darkness, only to see nothing but nets and dull plastic where turquoise had once blossomed. Echoing radars paralyzed her in her tracks as the ringing in her ears grew louder and louder, leaving her in a daze.
It had never been like this. Never this bad. She’d always been able to muster enough strength to take another breath.
Surely they didn’t know what they were doing to her, what they were doing to themselves. That was what she whispered to herself, but each time the black sludge stung her, each time another bag gripped at her neck, she questioned herself. The tide of trash was overwhelming, battering her with jagged shards again and again. She was helpless, trapped, as she watched herself unwillingly break down the pieces of plastic into deadlier shards, spelling her own demise.
Then one day, when the final ship tipped over, coating her mouth and innards with the sludge she’d learned was called oil, she was gone.
This time, she didn’t bother trying to brush back the slivers piercing her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered, her posture hunching as her will to live slowly ebbed away.
She closed her eyes. There was nothing left now, nothing she could do to stop her dirty waves from crashing on the dirtied sands of the once-pristine beaches.
The humans soon began to take notice of her absence. They wailed, pleading for her to return.
But they were too late.
**
Halfway across the world, a curious toddler held a dull conch up to her ear before dropping it half-heartedly on the sand. Her mother was wrong; the sea didn’t call.
She didn’t hear or see those cerulean seas, the crystal clear waters that her mother had claimed swept the beach clean in a whoosh. There was no swaying dance with the silver moon—only the rustling of a thousand tin cans, the tinkling of metal scraps.
Tentatively, she prodded the shell with her foot, before picking it up again. The delicate shell had managed to survive the fall, and she held her breath as she tried again, pressing it up against her ear.
There was only silence.
--
“Please,” she sobbed, a small tear stinging its way down her cheek. Deaf to her words, the sea of strangers rushed out as quickly as they had flooded the scene, the way they had done so many times before. The few that noticed the huddled mass on the floor convinced themselves they were too busy, while most simply did not care.
But everyone ignored her.
They all knew her, remembered her to be the sea, something similar of little importance to them. Over time, anyway, she had merged into the gray background, and soon they could not be bothered. . . to them, she had always been there that way—just a grimy, faceless figure without a name on the streets. They didn’t even know she could breathe.
But she could feel herself suffocating, drowning beneath her own waves. It’d only been a few decades, yet she was nothing like she had been before. Her hair was murky and her skin adorned with bloody plastic shards, a twisted sort of jewelry.
She stood there hunched alone, watching the tide of humans pass by. Unseeing. Unfeeling. Amidst the din, she was lifeless except for her eyes that desperately scanned the crowd.
“Help,” she whispered. Her hands trembled as she reached out for the human next to her, only to be carelessly swatted away. She cowered as another net flung itself up in the air—almost tantalizing as it shimmered—but came crashing down on her, and she felt the fishhooks dig in, devouring her flesh. Frantic, she tried to tear off the cuffs that had entangled itself round her wrists, but a flurry of waste battered her down. Another cigarette butt, another washed out wrapper, another clouded glass bottle.
She couldn’t see, but she knew they could. She tried to reach out again, groping around blindly, but there was no one. Where were they? Surely they would help her, surely they wouldn’t ignore her . . . but as the clack of their shoes faded in the distance, she felt her heart sink.
She collapsed onto her hands, feeling the acrid burn of the black sludge on her skin, staining it as dark as ink. She caught her reflection in the darkness, only to see nothing but nets and dull plastic where turquoise had once blossomed. Echoing radars paralyzed her in her tracks as the ringing in her ears grew louder and louder, leaving her in a daze.
It had never been like this. Never this bad. She’d always been able to muster enough strength to take another breath.
Surely they didn’t know what they were doing to her, what they were doing to themselves. That was what she whispered to herself, but each time the black sludge stung her, each time another bag gripped at her neck, she questioned herself. The tide of trash was overwhelming, battering her with jagged shards again and again. She was helpless, trapped, as she watched herself unwillingly break down the pieces of plastic into deadlier shards, spelling her own demise.
Then one day, when the final ship tipped over, coating her mouth and innards with the sludge she’d learned was called oil, she was gone.
This time, she didn’t bother trying to brush back the slivers piercing her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered, her posture hunching as her will to live slowly ebbed away.
She closed her eyes. There was nothing left now, nothing she could do to stop her dirty waves from crashing on the dirtied sands of the once-pristine beaches.
The humans soon began to take notice of her absence. They wailed, pleading for her to return.
But they were too late.
**
Halfway across the world, a curious toddler held a dull conch up to her ear before dropping it half-heartedly on the sand. Her mother was wrong; the sea didn’t call.
She didn’t hear or see those cerulean seas, the crystal clear waters that her mother had claimed swept the beach clean in a whoosh. There was no swaying dance with the silver moon—only the rustling of a thousand tin cans, the tinkling of metal scraps.
Tentatively, she prodded the shell with her foot, before picking it up again. The delicate shell had managed to survive the fall, and she held her breath as she tried again, pressing it up against her ear.
There was only silence.
Moths drawn to a flame: Korea’s response to political scandals
A news article written for the school newspaper.
--
In light of the upcoming Korean presidential election on March 9, various political scandals have arisen—and this is not the first time Korean politics have faced issues with corruption. Since the first Korean president in 1948, two-thirds of all presidents have either been jailed, assassinated, exiled, or committed suicide amid investigations. For instance, former President Park Geun-hye was impeached in 2016 and imprisoned for 24 years for abusing her presidential power and extorting money with Choi Soon-sil, while Roh Moo-Hyun, Korea’s ninth president, was impeached by parliament and involved in bribery scandals.
In 2022, yet another political scandal has come to light. Lee Jae-myung, a prominent presidential candidate from the Democratic Party of Korea, has recently been embroiled in a scandal in which three whistleblowers exposed various misconducts such as violating the Public Official Election Act, misallocating public funds, as well as abusing political power to forcefully institutionalize his brother in a mental hospital without consent. These allegations are not the only aspect of his presidential claim currently swirling in controversy, however—the death of all three whistleblowers has caught the eye of the public. Though initial investigations suggest that Lee Byung-chul, a prominent whistleblower, died of ordinary health problems, the Korean public continues to scrutinize the sudden death of those who exposed Lee Jae-myung and the corruption prior to his presidential bid.
On the other hand, while darker allegations continue to gain more TV coverage, so do more comedic controversies. One of Lee Jae-myung’s policies is a proposal for hair loss treatment as part of Korea’s national healthcare, an unusual policy that has garnered criticism that he was unfairly trying to garner the votes of the balding population in Korea. Others, however, have expressed gratitude for the policy by revealing their experiences with the staggering prices of anti-hair loss pills and treatment. Even more lighthearted controversy surrounds another prominent opposition candidate of the People Power Party, Yoon Seok-youl, who mistakenly held up his hand to the camera which had the traditional Korean character for “king” written on it. As the other candidates noticed the letter, Yoon Seok-youl was accused of “shamanism” by netizens online.
Despite recently appreciating some of the more humorous aspects of politics and the attempts of politicians to garner votes, Koreans seem to scrutinize presidential candidates and their scandals more than citizens of other nations. Though politicians in the US can retain their political influence whilst swearing and having a myriad of allegations against them, Korean candidates are not given the same liberties—they are expected to be perfect with their immaculate smiles and carefully crafted TV appearances, and an expletive would tarnish their public reputation. Perhaps as a result of Korea’s socially conservative culture resulting from deep-rooted Confucian values, Koreans continue to paint a picture of perfect candidates who shake their fists with vigor at the newest social reform campaigns with no perceivable moral flaws—which also conversely ensues in deafening outcry when it is discovered that these “perfect” nominees are, in fact, involved in a series of transgressions.
The general public, however, shies away from heavily mocking or satirizing politics as they do in the US. Though President Trump and President Biden were often “memed” and mocked heavily on online platforms on issues like their age to derogatory name-calling of other countries, past Korean candidates have not been targets of such harsh mockery. With the Korean culture that leads the public to nit-pick every single flaw, comes a more serious approach to domestic affairs. Though representatives are mired in scandals that would otherwise lead them to become widely derided in other countries, the Korean public refrains from criticizing its leaders through scathing cartoon caricatures or satire even when it is evident that misconduct has occurred—perhaps as a remnant of when condemning political leaders was criminalized in the past.
When it comes to the benefit of the nation, the facade Korean politicians wear may not necessarily be beneficial. Voters, after all, judge each presidential candidate not solely on their policies, but also for qualities such as their ability to compromise and lead an entire country. If every single candidate on their ballot is the same cookie cut-out of what presidential hopefuls believe the public wants, it may only discourage voters and create suspicion on the true motives and policies the future president has in mind.
--
In light of the upcoming Korean presidential election on March 9, various political scandals have arisen—and this is not the first time Korean politics have faced issues with corruption. Since the first Korean president in 1948, two-thirds of all presidents have either been jailed, assassinated, exiled, or committed suicide amid investigations. For instance, former President Park Geun-hye was impeached in 2016 and imprisoned for 24 years for abusing her presidential power and extorting money with Choi Soon-sil, while Roh Moo-Hyun, Korea’s ninth president, was impeached by parliament and involved in bribery scandals.
In 2022, yet another political scandal has come to light. Lee Jae-myung, a prominent presidential candidate from the Democratic Party of Korea, has recently been embroiled in a scandal in which three whistleblowers exposed various misconducts such as violating the Public Official Election Act, misallocating public funds, as well as abusing political power to forcefully institutionalize his brother in a mental hospital without consent. These allegations are not the only aspect of his presidential claim currently swirling in controversy, however—the death of all three whistleblowers has caught the eye of the public. Though initial investigations suggest that Lee Byung-chul, a prominent whistleblower, died of ordinary health problems, the Korean public continues to scrutinize the sudden death of those who exposed Lee Jae-myung and the corruption prior to his presidential bid.
On the other hand, while darker allegations continue to gain more TV coverage, so do more comedic controversies. One of Lee Jae-myung’s policies is a proposal for hair loss treatment as part of Korea’s national healthcare, an unusual policy that has garnered criticism that he was unfairly trying to garner the votes of the balding population in Korea. Others, however, have expressed gratitude for the policy by revealing their experiences with the staggering prices of anti-hair loss pills and treatment. Even more lighthearted controversy surrounds another prominent opposition candidate of the People Power Party, Yoon Seok-youl, who mistakenly held up his hand to the camera which had the traditional Korean character for “king” written on it. As the other candidates noticed the letter, Yoon Seok-youl was accused of “shamanism” by netizens online.
Despite recently appreciating some of the more humorous aspects of politics and the attempts of politicians to garner votes, Koreans seem to scrutinize presidential candidates and their scandals more than citizens of other nations. Though politicians in the US can retain their political influence whilst swearing and having a myriad of allegations against them, Korean candidates are not given the same liberties—they are expected to be perfect with their immaculate smiles and carefully crafted TV appearances, and an expletive would tarnish their public reputation. Perhaps as a result of Korea’s socially conservative culture resulting from deep-rooted Confucian values, Koreans continue to paint a picture of perfect candidates who shake their fists with vigor at the newest social reform campaigns with no perceivable moral flaws—which also conversely ensues in deafening outcry when it is discovered that these “perfect” nominees are, in fact, involved in a series of transgressions.
The general public, however, shies away from heavily mocking or satirizing politics as they do in the US. Though President Trump and President Biden were often “memed” and mocked heavily on online platforms on issues like their age to derogatory name-calling of other countries, past Korean candidates have not been targets of such harsh mockery. With the Korean culture that leads the public to nit-pick every single flaw, comes a more serious approach to domestic affairs. Though representatives are mired in scandals that would otherwise lead them to become widely derided in other countries, the Korean public refrains from criticizing its leaders through scathing cartoon caricatures or satire even when it is evident that misconduct has occurred—perhaps as a remnant of when condemning political leaders was criminalized in the past.
When it comes to the benefit of the nation, the facade Korean politicians wear may not necessarily be beneficial. Voters, after all, judge each presidential candidate not solely on their policies, but also for qualities such as their ability to compromise and lead an entire country. If every single candidate on their ballot is the same cookie cut-out of what presidential hopefuls believe the public wants, it may only discourage voters and create suspicion on the true motives and policies the future president has in mind.
The Greta Thunberg Problem
An article written for the school newspaper.
--
Ever since she was first photographed sitting outside of the Swedish parliament, holding a sign that read “School Strike for Climate,” Greta Thunberg has become recognizable to the average person as the face of the environmental movement. Through feats like sailing halfway across the ocean in a solar-powered boat and speaking at the UN Climate Action Summit, she has managed to raise awareness about the environment on an unprecedented scale and jump-start the world into going green. Yet regardless of all her contributions, it may be best for the environmental movement to move away from having a single prominent leader.
Thunberg and environmental movements alike share the goal of spurring global leaders to take the dive into eco-friendly policies and pledge to go net-neutral. And this is where the problem begins. Despite wanting change everywhere, these collectives highlight only Thunberg, who cannot promote international policies and change alone. The topic of climate change spans a multitude of different issues, ranging from pollution to ocean acidification, so Thunberg’s spotlight draws the curtain on the subjects she cannot cover. Though she is vital for the push for change, the public associates only her with climate change activism—which will inevitably devolve into a “heropreneurship,” which is essentially when a single figure is seen as the source behind social progress. Thunberg has become too big, too great, to the point where activism in the movement is portrayed to be mostly her work when it is not.
Those behind the curtain of the movement, such as other youths who have taken action to specifically better their own communities, then go unnoticed. Mari Copeny, for example, has utilized her social media handles and other online platforms to promote her GoFundMe for water filters in Flint, Michigan, and raised awareness by retweeting pressing concerns about the environment to her 150,000 followers. By sending a letter to President Obama about Flint’s water crisis in 2016, she successfully secured change for her community. Activists such as Copeny are what the movement needs: localized leaders who can advocate for specific issues and gather the support of their communities.
A decentralized movement, or a movement with a variety of ground-level leaders, is not a wholly new concept, either. When trying to tackle such a broad topic, diverse leaders are imperative to sustain the movement to stop it from dissolving. This way, environmental movements in other countries can gain more credibility in their own right, and implement legislative change worldwide through bottom-up change. For example, in the movement for gun control, the “March For Our Lives” and “National School Walkout” advocacy groups created 50 new gun laws in the United States—which not-so-coincidentally employed a variety of different leaders such as Sofie Whitney, Sarah Chadwick, Sam Deitsch, and more. Following such a model, the environmental movement could later hold enough influence to pass hard-line, noteworthy legislation.
When citizens and governments denied the attention climate change rightfully deserved, Thunberg was a “must” to grab their attention. Fortunately, there has been a brief burst in the number of meaningful improvements, better policies, and awareness. But for the movement to be sustained, Thunberg must let others shine. Especially in a time when she has taken a break from speaking at public events, the need for leadership on all levels of the movement has only become greater. Only this way can the Earth get all the help it needs.
--
Ever since she was first photographed sitting outside of the Swedish parliament, holding a sign that read “School Strike for Climate,” Greta Thunberg has become recognizable to the average person as the face of the environmental movement. Through feats like sailing halfway across the ocean in a solar-powered boat and speaking at the UN Climate Action Summit, she has managed to raise awareness about the environment on an unprecedented scale and jump-start the world into going green. Yet regardless of all her contributions, it may be best for the environmental movement to move away from having a single prominent leader.
Thunberg and environmental movements alike share the goal of spurring global leaders to take the dive into eco-friendly policies and pledge to go net-neutral. And this is where the problem begins. Despite wanting change everywhere, these collectives highlight only Thunberg, who cannot promote international policies and change alone. The topic of climate change spans a multitude of different issues, ranging from pollution to ocean acidification, so Thunberg’s spotlight draws the curtain on the subjects she cannot cover. Though she is vital for the push for change, the public associates only her with climate change activism—which will inevitably devolve into a “heropreneurship,” which is essentially when a single figure is seen as the source behind social progress. Thunberg has become too big, too great, to the point where activism in the movement is portrayed to be mostly her work when it is not.
Those behind the curtain of the movement, such as other youths who have taken action to specifically better their own communities, then go unnoticed. Mari Copeny, for example, has utilized her social media handles and other online platforms to promote her GoFundMe for water filters in Flint, Michigan, and raised awareness by retweeting pressing concerns about the environment to her 150,000 followers. By sending a letter to President Obama about Flint’s water crisis in 2016, she successfully secured change for her community. Activists such as Copeny are what the movement needs: localized leaders who can advocate for specific issues and gather the support of their communities.
A decentralized movement, or a movement with a variety of ground-level leaders, is not a wholly new concept, either. When trying to tackle such a broad topic, diverse leaders are imperative to sustain the movement to stop it from dissolving. This way, environmental movements in other countries can gain more credibility in their own right, and implement legislative change worldwide through bottom-up change. For example, in the movement for gun control, the “March For Our Lives” and “National School Walkout” advocacy groups created 50 new gun laws in the United States—which not-so-coincidentally employed a variety of different leaders such as Sofie Whitney, Sarah Chadwick, Sam Deitsch, and more. Following such a model, the environmental movement could later hold enough influence to pass hard-line, noteworthy legislation.
When citizens and governments denied the attention climate change rightfully deserved, Thunberg was a “must” to grab their attention. Fortunately, there has been a brief burst in the number of meaningful improvements, better policies, and awareness. But for the movement to be sustained, Thunberg must let others shine. Especially in a time when she has taken a break from speaking at public events, the need for leadership on all levels of the movement has only become greater. Only this way can the Earth get all the help it needs.
Individual or Corporate Responsibility?
An article written for the school newspaper.
“Reduce, reuse, and recycle.” This slogan, first introduced around 1976 alongside increasing efforts to conserve the environment, has become ubiquitous in everyday life. We know to turn the tap water off while we brush our teeth and to shop local for pesticide-and-fertilizer-free produce. But recently, people have begun to question the effectiveness of these small choices, especially after a report made by the Carbon Disclosure Project revealed that 100 companies were responsible for a stunning 71% of total global emissions. What impact does the average consumer have if companies are the major contributors to climate change?
After all, it is not as if sustainable methods are accessible for every single person in the first place. The green, organic products promoted by environmental activists are often costlier due to being “all-natural,” and can often spoil faster too. Long-lasting, high-quality clothes are endorsed over their fast fashion counterparts, but the reality is that there are citizens who cannot afford to spend money on such goods which could otherwise be saved for bills. When it comes to the question of climate change, then, it seems obvious that the focus lies on pushing initiatives and the burden onto corporations rather than on sole individuals.
From mining primary resources to manufacturing final products to other countries, corporations produce millions of tons of carbon dioxide and huge masses of other waste. In the current global market, companies then need to ship products to and fro from one country to another, eventually resulting in businesses like Apple emitting 25.2 million tons of carbon dioxide in just one year—a stark contrast to the average carbon footprint of one person, which is just seven tons. In the grand scheme of things, does one can of Sprite you toss into the trashcan do much, if anything at all?
The short answer is that it does not. Chucking a bottle into recycling or smashing it on the ground to your heart’s content means nothing as an individual action, apart from perhaps feeling a bit guilty about the mini-mess you made on the floor.
But the Earth is more than just you—there are 7.8 billion versions of you on this planet, all of whom can choose to reuse or not to reuse. …And this is where the real question emerges. The question is not if you alone can create change, but instead if you can make a difference with the rest of the world—to which the answer is always yes.
Corporations do bear a large burden in the destruction that continues to ravage our planet, but to blame only them would be to scapegoat them unfairly. The statistics of individual versus corporate waste hide the fact that these companies are often fueled by consumer greed in the first place, which has resulted in them responding accordingly by producing an exorbitant number of goods. The waste in our oceans is not a problem evenly split into corporations and the individual, but a joint mess that both sides must fix immediately.
Instead of consumers pushing for ineffectual policies like paper straws, which promotes a superficial solution, consumers need to return to the original adage—to first “reduce” the products they purchase, all as a group. Unless you really need to, why use a straw in the first place? Your mouth is nature’s most eco-friendly tool at your disposal
Yes, the power of the individual is minimal. But the power of the collective, when harnessed properly, can be something more.
“Reduce, reuse, and recycle.” This slogan, first introduced around 1976 alongside increasing efforts to conserve the environment, has become ubiquitous in everyday life. We know to turn the tap water off while we brush our teeth and to shop local for pesticide-and-fertilizer-free produce. But recently, people have begun to question the effectiveness of these small choices, especially after a report made by the Carbon Disclosure Project revealed that 100 companies were responsible for a stunning 71% of total global emissions. What impact does the average consumer have if companies are the major contributors to climate change?
After all, it is not as if sustainable methods are accessible for every single person in the first place. The green, organic products promoted by environmental activists are often costlier due to being “all-natural,” and can often spoil faster too. Long-lasting, high-quality clothes are endorsed over their fast fashion counterparts, but the reality is that there are citizens who cannot afford to spend money on such goods which could otherwise be saved for bills. When it comes to the question of climate change, then, it seems obvious that the focus lies on pushing initiatives and the burden onto corporations rather than on sole individuals.
From mining primary resources to manufacturing final products to other countries, corporations produce millions of tons of carbon dioxide and huge masses of other waste. In the current global market, companies then need to ship products to and fro from one country to another, eventually resulting in businesses like Apple emitting 25.2 million tons of carbon dioxide in just one year—a stark contrast to the average carbon footprint of one person, which is just seven tons. In the grand scheme of things, does one can of Sprite you toss into the trashcan do much, if anything at all?
The short answer is that it does not. Chucking a bottle into recycling or smashing it on the ground to your heart’s content means nothing as an individual action, apart from perhaps feeling a bit guilty about the mini-mess you made on the floor.
But the Earth is more than just you—there are 7.8 billion versions of you on this planet, all of whom can choose to reuse or not to reuse. …And this is where the real question emerges. The question is not if you alone can create change, but instead if you can make a difference with the rest of the world—to which the answer is always yes.
Corporations do bear a large burden in the destruction that continues to ravage our planet, but to blame only them would be to scapegoat them unfairly. The statistics of individual versus corporate waste hide the fact that these companies are often fueled by consumer greed in the first place, which has resulted in them responding accordingly by producing an exorbitant number of goods. The waste in our oceans is not a problem evenly split into corporations and the individual, but a joint mess that both sides must fix immediately.
Instead of consumers pushing for ineffectual policies like paper straws, which promotes a superficial solution, consumers need to return to the original adage—to first “reduce” the products they purchase, all as a group. Unless you really need to, why use a straw in the first place? Your mouth is nature’s most eco-friendly tool at your disposal
Yes, the power of the individual is minimal. But the power of the collective, when harnessed properly, can be something more.
Maneuvering through the metaverse
Gone are the days when people fantasized about a virtual realm like Ready Player One, where real life and faraway sci-fi technology mingled to create a completely new world. Gone, too, are the days when people wondered of all the opportunities and risks a virtual realm like the ones today would bring. Now, new virtual avatars, jobs, and even more are available—all at the swipe of a finger. With recent discussions regarding the metaverse propelled into the mainstream, more companies are beginning to seriously consider expanding into the digital world and the boundless possibilities present within such technology. In the midst of the global pandemic in 2021, 73 percent of employees expressed a desire to continue working in hybrid workplaces—for which metaverses are fit as more employees want to start working at home.
Though the concept of the “metaverse” may seem completely foreign, only recently being used by corporations like Meta (formerly known as Facebook), the idea itself is nothing new. Seven years ago, Google introduced the world to its Google glasses, which it had anticipated to roll out globally. Though the glasses were eventually abandoned, metaverses have always been present in games like Roblox or Minecraft. All of them deal with the fundamental concept of creating online, digital avatars in a simulated world—the only difference of recent talks surrounding the metaverse is that these conversations center around a metaverse with a focus on social interaction. And even this is not new—the idea of a realm where people interact for social purposes has been promoted since 2009 by another game, Second Life, though this attempt to construct a widely-adopted world waned as visible by its small user base.
In contrast to these ill-fated attempts to build a metaverse, current attempts to assemble a metaverse are gaining much more traction. In February, Meta’s Horizon Worlds reached 300,000 users, while virtual realms like Decentraland had several properties bought by large brands like Samsung and Adidas. Businesses are not alone in their hopes for these worlds either; a poll by Accenture shows, public perception of the metaverse is increasingly shifting to view these worlds as “transformative” instead of as a short-lived fad. With revamped opinions, many are now beginning to realize the opportunities in what has been derided as an “imaginary world” in the past.
This rise in the fictional metaverse also comes with the rise in digital commerce, as people are increasingly turning to these digital realms to purchase goods—and with this demand has come the supply of entirely virtual influencers who have built fictional personas to market goods toward consumers. Influencers, such as Monica, on platforms such as South Korea’s Zepeto, have earned hundreds of thousands of dollars through their new financial opportunities, even to the point of earning six-figure salaries by advertising for large name brands.
Like the way online shopping and the advent of the internet drastically changed the way society functioned by facilitating the purchase of goods with a simple click, experts believe cryptocurrency and the metaverse can metamorphose the current internet. In these realms, people will no longer be restricted to seeing clothes and other goods in photographs, but instead able to try such clothes on their digital avatars. Furthermore, these new worlds open up creative methods of social interaction as promoted by companies like Meta, and of course with it the rise in ways to access customers through advertisements and personalized cryptocurrencies.
Though the metaverse poses great opportunities for change from the way goods are currently bought and from the conventional actions of visiting the mall, there continues to be the ever-present danger present with these anonymous transactions. With the release of new virtual realms, new currencies have emerged, further creating instability. Furthermore, as these digital avatars and the exchange of cryptocurrency are difficult, if not impossible to track, they have fostered the growth of hate speech and racist verbal abuse online.
These metaverses are allowing for the realization of our wildest sci-fi dreams, and allowing life to be interwoven with technology more than ever before. But with the sparks of the true digital age and the convenience it is bound to bring to the world, it too comes with darker social implications that must be addressed before the technology is adopted by and promoted to a larger audience.
Though the concept of the “metaverse” may seem completely foreign, only recently being used by corporations like Meta (formerly known as Facebook), the idea itself is nothing new. Seven years ago, Google introduced the world to its Google glasses, which it had anticipated to roll out globally. Though the glasses were eventually abandoned, metaverses have always been present in games like Roblox or Minecraft. All of them deal with the fundamental concept of creating online, digital avatars in a simulated world—the only difference of recent talks surrounding the metaverse is that these conversations center around a metaverse with a focus on social interaction. And even this is not new—the idea of a realm where people interact for social purposes has been promoted since 2009 by another game, Second Life, though this attempt to construct a widely-adopted world waned as visible by its small user base.
In contrast to these ill-fated attempts to build a metaverse, current attempts to assemble a metaverse are gaining much more traction. In February, Meta’s Horizon Worlds reached 300,000 users, while virtual realms like Decentraland had several properties bought by large brands like Samsung and Adidas. Businesses are not alone in their hopes for these worlds either; a poll by Accenture shows, public perception of the metaverse is increasingly shifting to view these worlds as “transformative” instead of as a short-lived fad. With revamped opinions, many are now beginning to realize the opportunities in what has been derided as an “imaginary world” in the past.
This rise in the fictional metaverse also comes with the rise in digital commerce, as people are increasingly turning to these digital realms to purchase goods—and with this demand has come the supply of entirely virtual influencers who have built fictional personas to market goods toward consumers. Influencers, such as Monica, on platforms such as South Korea’s Zepeto, have earned hundreds of thousands of dollars through their new financial opportunities, even to the point of earning six-figure salaries by advertising for large name brands.
Like the way online shopping and the advent of the internet drastically changed the way society functioned by facilitating the purchase of goods with a simple click, experts believe cryptocurrency and the metaverse can metamorphose the current internet. In these realms, people will no longer be restricted to seeing clothes and other goods in photographs, but instead able to try such clothes on their digital avatars. Furthermore, these new worlds open up creative methods of social interaction as promoted by companies like Meta, and of course with it the rise in ways to access customers through advertisements and personalized cryptocurrencies.
Though the metaverse poses great opportunities for change from the way goods are currently bought and from the conventional actions of visiting the mall, there continues to be the ever-present danger present with these anonymous transactions. With the release of new virtual realms, new currencies have emerged, further creating instability. Furthermore, as these digital avatars and the exchange of cryptocurrency are difficult, if not impossible to track, they have fostered the growth of hate speech and racist verbal abuse online.
These metaverses are allowing for the realization of our wildest sci-fi dreams, and allowing life to be interwoven with technology more than ever before. But with the sparks of the true digital age and the convenience it is bound to bring to the world, it too comes with darker social implications that must be addressed before the technology is adopted by and promoted to a larger audience.
Korea’s road to climate progress
An article written for the school newspaper.
Pouring rain. Dreary skies. A man huddles on top of his submerged car, the scene almost reminiscent of a typical moody album cover. But this is not a carefully staged, directed photoshoot—this is Korea in its monsoon season, a phenomenon that has drastically intensified over the last two decades.
This year’s rainfall was the culmination of such escalation. Averaging 920 mm of rain each day from June 1 to Aug. 15, the amount of precipitation Korea received is just a few mm short of the highest recorded amount of rainfall since the Korea Meteorological Association first began recording data in 1973. Furthermore, due to the season’s historical rainfall, 11 have drowned in their own homes, with many others missing in the unrelenting deluge of rain. Even beyond these tragic deaths, such downpours have had cascading effects, leading to further natural disasters like landslides and slippery roads that have seized lives of their own.
These downpours, in a matter of a few weeks, have eroded citizen morale, infrastructure, and lifestyles by causing delays and cancellations in schedules alongside the deaths that occurred. Thankfully, although South Korea has lagged behind other countries in the past in pioneering effective policies, slow, steady change is being made to combat future climate phenomena both socially and technologically.
Social attitudes, for instance, are gradually beginning to shift in favor of searching for alternative fuel sources. According to the Asian Institute for Policy Studies, 92.4 percent of Koreans demonstrate awareness regarding the severity of the threat that climate change poses, even if the effects are not yet tangible in their communities. Within SIS, the popularity of courses like AP Environmental Science have increased over the years, and outside of school, more students are participating in environmental extracurriculars such as the environmental nonprofit ENVI-sion (which currently boasts 85 members on its main online platform). These extracurriculars attempt to educate, encourage, and engage students in helping to save the Earth, depicting growing awareness in the world today.
With such warming attitudes towards environmentally friendly policies, the Korean government has too responded to reflect these changes. In 2021, South Korea agreed to cut emissions by 40 percent from 2018 to 2030 at the 26th United Nations Climate Change Conference. Even prior to these rains, the government had already been implementing new revolutionary policies, promising to boost nuclear power plant usage to supply up to 30 percent of the nation’s energy and promote it as the main alternate fuel source. Ever since Korea’s first nuclear reactor was built in 1962, nuclear energy has been a focus that directs their push toward an eco-friendly world, although admittedly the environmental effort has briefly slowed after the Fukushima disaster in Japan.
Even outside the mainland, islands like Jeju Island have promulgated climate-friendly energy alternatives since 2012, with its various windmills becoming a recognizable fixture on the horizon along with its solar panels that adorn rooftops. Despite its already relatively well-known status as an eco-friendly tourist destination, there has been further technological change in policies to go climate-neutral by 2030. Jeju Island—though only 1 percent of Korea’s population—merely contributes to 0.5 percent of Korea’s climate emissions, meaning that an average Korean citizen in Jeju Island has half the climate emissions of a mainland citizen.
Shadowed by the current looming environmental crisis, Koreans are slowly fighting for more environmental-based policies. Though it may seem as though climate change is an ever-shifting amalgamation of problems, tangible progress has been and is continuing to be made both by and outside the government. With this positive attitude, are people only continuing to advocate for change outside of their local communities—such as even within the small bubble of SIS. As researchers strive for breakthroughs in environmental technology, South Korea as a whole is beginning to take action to combat the threats of an imminent environmental catastrophe.
Pouring rain. Dreary skies. A man huddles on top of his submerged car, the scene almost reminiscent of a typical moody album cover. But this is not a carefully staged, directed photoshoot—this is Korea in its monsoon season, a phenomenon that has drastically intensified over the last two decades.
This year’s rainfall was the culmination of such escalation. Averaging 920 mm of rain each day from June 1 to Aug. 15, the amount of precipitation Korea received is just a few mm short of the highest recorded amount of rainfall since the Korea Meteorological Association first began recording data in 1973. Furthermore, due to the season’s historical rainfall, 11 have drowned in their own homes, with many others missing in the unrelenting deluge of rain. Even beyond these tragic deaths, such downpours have had cascading effects, leading to further natural disasters like landslides and slippery roads that have seized lives of their own.
These downpours, in a matter of a few weeks, have eroded citizen morale, infrastructure, and lifestyles by causing delays and cancellations in schedules alongside the deaths that occurred. Thankfully, although South Korea has lagged behind other countries in the past in pioneering effective policies, slow, steady change is being made to combat future climate phenomena both socially and technologically.
Social attitudes, for instance, are gradually beginning to shift in favor of searching for alternative fuel sources. According to the Asian Institute for Policy Studies, 92.4 percent of Koreans demonstrate awareness regarding the severity of the threat that climate change poses, even if the effects are not yet tangible in their communities. Within SIS, the popularity of courses like AP Environmental Science have increased over the years, and outside of school, more students are participating in environmental extracurriculars such as the environmental nonprofit ENVI-sion (which currently boasts 85 members on its main online platform). These extracurriculars attempt to educate, encourage, and engage students in helping to save the Earth, depicting growing awareness in the world today.
With such warming attitudes towards environmentally friendly policies, the Korean government has too responded to reflect these changes. In 2021, South Korea agreed to cut emissions by 40 percent from 2018 to 2030 at the 26th United Nations Climate Change Conference. Even prior to these rains, the government had already been implementing new revolutionary policies, promising to boost nuclear power plant usage to supply up to 30 percent of the nation’s energy and promote it as the main alternate fuel source. Ever since Korea’s first nuclear reactor was built in 1962, nuclear energy has been a focus that directs their push toward an eco-friendly world, although admittedly the environmental effort has briefly slowed after the Fukushima disaster in Japan.
Even outside the mainland, islands like Jeju Island have promulgated climate-friendly energy alternatives since 2012, with its various windmills becoming a recognizable fixture on the horizon along with its solar panels that adorn rooftops. Despite its already relatively well-known status as an eco-friendly tourist destination, there has been further technological change in policies to go climate-neutral by 2030. Jeju Island—though only 1 percent of Korea’s population—merely contributes to 0.5 percent of Korea’s climate emissions, meaning that an average Korean citizen in Jeju Island has half the climate emissions of a mainland citizen.
Shadowed by the current looming environmental crisis, Koreans are slowly fighting for more environmental-based policies. Though it may seem as though climate change is an ever-shifting amalgamation of problems, tangible progress has been and is continuing to be made both by and outside the government. With this positive attitude, are people only continuing to advocate for change outside of their local communities—such as even within the small bubble of SIS. As researchers strive for breakthroughs in environmental technology, South Korea as a whole is beginning to take action to combat the threats of an imminent environmental catastrophe.
The most dreaded of them all: group projects
An article written for the school newspaper.
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Tendrils of dread slowly snake up your spine as your stomach flips and twists with each thump of your heart. Holding your breath and crossing your fingers, you look up as the teacher flips to the next screen, and . . . oh God.
As your friends in the class smile relievedly upon seeing their new group, you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole—because you know these next several weeks will be ones of pain, torture, and sleep deprivation while your back breaks from carrying the grades of your teammates. Whatever will you do?
Sometimes life is just like that. It slings a whole crate’s worth of lemons at us and creates the worst group possible, all while making a different group (never yours) that you know will manage to pull off the perfect project.
Teachers might believe that skilled students with less hard-working ones will result in a mutually beneficial outcome in which they can simulate future real-world scenarios and obtain necessary collaborative skills. However, the reality is that these projects are, more often than not, mainly the work of one student rather than of cooperative effort. Even in the case when some teachers take it upon themselves to investigate the distribution of work, Google document history can easily be fabricated and peer assessments forged, which further cements the idea that group projects are working when in reality, they are not.
It is not even just about the grades—a group project like this is mentally exhausting, draining, and frustrating for the few stellar students who burden themselves with the Herculean task of even completing the project in time. Combined with the resentment certain group members feel as a result of having to do most of the work and submit it under the guise of “collaborative work,” salt is added to the wound when students that participated begrudgingly give credit to students who have not worked because their own grade depends on proof of cooperation.
It is ironic, then, to see that while original work is praised in the SIS community, these group projects that pair stronger students with weaker ones are so common in classrooms when in fact this leads to students free-loading off of the work of others. Whether it is meant to briefly cushion the grades of less hard-working students or simply balance out groups in skill level to raise the class average, this leads to several problems within these group projects.
The biggest, most obviously pressing issue of all is that weaker students lose the valuable chance to learn the content when they are constantly set up in groups meant to “help” them. Stronger students, who do not want their grades potentially compromised by the work of others, take over the work of weaker students—meaning that if this happens continuously, the knowledge and skill gap between students only increases and keeps students stuck in the same vicious cycle for the next group project. Even if weaker students receive a temporary bump to their grade, the lack of knowledge these students possess will be apparent on tests and future tasks—at which point it is far too late to build up necessary knowledge skills and work ethic. As shown by a study by the University of Denver, small, individual assignments taught content to students better than larger group projects did because students learned all content instead of divvying it up amongst themselves and creating gaps in their knowledge.
Furthermore, the goal of collaboration is further harmed when members with drastically different skill levels are paired together. Underlying tensions rise as the stronger student finds themselves having to learn the content of the group project not only for themselves, but to teach the rest of their members. The Eberly Center for Teaching Excellence & Educational Innovation at Carnegie Mellon University even advises teachers that in the case of extreme skill differences, groups should be formed by separating weaker and stronger students instead of in a mixed-skills approach.
In order to foster a sense of agency among students, one solution might be for students to create their own groups. Though not perfect, the benefit offered is that it fosters a sense of agency among students to match up with those who they know they will be able to collaborate with or have a similar skill level to. If teachers do not want to go this far, they may allow students to pick one or two students with whom they would prefer not to work. One potential drawback is that this may lead to everyone writing down the same students' names, which may not make much of a difference in the end.
Even better, teachers could simply change the type of assignments they assign as group projects in the first place. A study from the University of Oklahoma found that group research papers, or group writing assignments—which are coincidentally some of the most commonly assigned projects in SIS—are the worst in promoting collaboration because of how individualistic writing is as a task in the first place. If teachers find themselves primarily assigning these types of projects, perhaps it would be wiser to keep group projects out of the curriculum in classes heavily dependent on writing regardless of skill level.
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Tendrils of dread slowly snake up your spine as your stomach flips and twists with each thump of your heart. Holding your breath and crossing your fingers, you look up as the teacher flips to the next screen, and . . . oh God.
As your friends in the class smile relievedly upon seeing their new group, you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole—because you know these next several weeks will be ones of pain, torture, and sleep deprivation while your back breaks from carrying the grades of your teammates. Whatever will you do?
Sometimes life is just like that. It slings a whole crate’s worth of lemons at us and creates the worst group possible, all while making a different group (never yours) that you know will manage to pull off the perfect project.
Teachers might believe that skilled students with less hard-working ones will result in a mutually beneficial outcome in which they can simulate future real-world scenarios and obtain necessary collaborative skills. However, the reality is that these projects are, more often than not, mainly the work of one student rather than of cooperative effort. Even in the case when some teachers take it upon themselves to investigate the distribution of work, Google document history can easily be fabricated and peer assessments forged, which further cements the idea that group projects are working when in reality, they are not.
It is not even just about the grades—a group project like this is mentally exhausting, draining, and frustrating for the few stellar students who burden themselves with the Herculean task of even completing the project in time. Combined with the resentment certain group members feel as a result of having to do most of the work and submit it under the guise of “collaborative work,” salt is added to the wound when students that participated begrudgingly give credit to students who have not worked because their own grade depends on proof of cooperation.
It is ironic, then, to see that while original work is praised in the SIS community, these group projects that pair stronger students with weaker ones are so common in classrooms when in fact this leads to students free-loading off of the work of others. Whether it is meant to briefly cushion the grades of less hard-working students or simply balance out groups in skill level to raise the class average, this leads to several problems within these group projects.
The biggest, most obviously pressing issue of all is that weaker students lose the valuable chance to learn the content when they are constantly set up in groups meant to “help” them. Stronger students, who do not want their grades potentially compromised by the work of others, take over the work of weaker students—meaning that if this happens continuously, the knowledge and skill gap between students only increases and keeps students stuck in the same vicious cycle for the next group project. Even if weaker students receive a temporary bump to their grade, the lack of knowledge these students possess will be apparent on tests and future tasks—at which point it is far too late to build up necessary knowledge skills and work ethic. As shown by a study by the University of Denver, small, individual assignments taught content to students better than larger group projects did because students learned all content instead of divvying it up amongst themselves and creating gaps in their knowledge.
Furthermore, the goal of collaboration is further harmed when members with drastically different skill levels are paired together. Underlying tensions rise as the stronger student finds themselves having to learn the content of the group project not only for themselves, but to teach the rest of their members. The Eberly Center for Teaching Excellence & Educational Innovation at Carnegie Mellon University even advises teachers that in the case of extreme skill differences, groups should be formed by separating weaker and stronger students instead of in a mixed-skills approach.
In order to foster a sense of agency among students, one solution might be for students to create their own groups. Though not perfect, the benefit offered is that it fosters a sense of agency among students to match up with those who they know they will be able to collaborate with or have a similar skill level to. If teachers do not want to go this far, they may allow students to pick one or two students with whom they would prefer not to work. One potential drawback is that this may lead to everyone writing down the same students' names, which may not make much of a difference in the end.
Even better, teachers could simply change the type of assignments they assign as group projects in the first place. A study from the University of Oklahoma found that group research papers, or group writing assignments—which are coincidentally some of the most commonly assigned projects in SIS—are the worst in promoting collaboration because of how individualistic writing is as a task in the first place. If teachers find themselves primarily assigning these types of projects, perhaps it would be wiser to keep group projects out of the curriculum in classes heavily dependent on writing regardless of skill level.
Korean Education Culture
An article written for the school newspaper.
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The Suneung, a 9-hour test Korean high schoolers take that determines their future, took place on Nov. 17, and students now await the announcement of their results on Dec. 10. Though the education system in international schools differs from Korean high schools greatly in the lack of a final standardized test and the set-up of the school curriculum itself, both types of students face similar emphasis on academics from a young age—a culture that sprouted following the Korean War and highlights the importance of education as a pathway to success.
But the learning does not stop at school, and instead extends into non-school hours. Most Korean students attend hagwons, or cram schools, in order to gain a head start on content and receive better grades at school compared to their peers. The culture surrounding hagwons underscores academic success to the point that the government had to mandate a hagwon curfew of 10 p.m. to prevent students from being stuck at hagwons up till the early morning (some students even totaled up to 16 hours a day in hagwons). Some hagwons, however, still continue to skirt the law altogether and hold classes in secret.
While the pressure by itself is enormous, Korean school education policies often fluctuate under different government administrations. Governments understand that the education system is often a key concern for voters, especially those raising children, and wield policy changes to the system as a way to garner more support. Consequently, the path for children’s education becomes increasingly unclear as the curriculum continuously shifts its focus, which only contributes to the stress around their future. As a result, Suneung is often more stressful than other standardized tests like APs as their college acceptance results hinge only on their scores, while US colleges tend to view students more holistically.
As a result of the stress and overwork culture that begins at a young age, Korean teenagers have one of the highest rates of depression and suicide in OECD countries, with suicide being the leading cause of death for adolescents at 7.2 deaths per 100,000 people—fourth in the world. Furthermore, according to a survey by the National Youth Policy Institute in 2020, almost a third of Korean students revealed they had considered taking their life within the past year. 40 percent of those who had thought about committing suicide cited academic pressure as a main cause, which may even be underreported as mental health issues carry heavy social stigma in Korea and little treatment is available for those who suffer.
Furthermore, the pressure is not always internal. With the future of their children essentially resting on their academic performance, tiger parents are both a product and a perpetrator of the toxic education system in Korea. Tiger moms, who are well aware of the importance of education as former students themselves, drive the importance of academic success and extracurriculars, such as classical instruments, into their children. Furthermore, to supplant their children’s academic performance, many parents work harder to support the extra fees of tutoring and hagwons, with some parents even taking out risky loans to support the financial gamble as they invest in their children’s future. On the darker side, some parents resort to more sinister alternatives of “achieving” success by buying off scores and bribing school officials discreetly. As a result, to stop education from devolving into favorites, Korea passed several anti-graft laws restricting students and parents from giving teachers gifts in any form.
Despite all the negativity surrounding the issue, however, change is arising—although slowly. “Sky Castle,” a K-drama about ambitious families and students working to get into top universities, provided insight and reflection into the toxic, cut-throat culture of college admissions in which tiger parents and students do as much as they can to secure admission to the elite SKY (Seoul National, Korea, and Yonsei) universities. Furthermore, mental health awareness is slowly rising among all countries and dissolving the stigma surrounding the issue. Hopefully, for the good of both students and parents, the culture will slowly expand to embrace not just school achievement, but also the students’ health and other alternative modes of success.
And though to some it may seem so, the emphasis on education is not purely a toxic byproduct of Korean culture. The shared hopes and dreams of students everywhere to achieve academic success have led to churches holding services for students for the Suneung in hopes of increasing scores, bolstering community goodwill. Furthermore, uniquely for Korea, approximately 3000 police cars and 200 fire trucks are on standby to ensure that students get to their testing centers before they close in the morning. It is always important to consider not just the widely-known negatives of the culture, but the distinctive shared community goals this culture has produced for which everyone in the country respects.
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The Suneung, a 9-hour test Korean high schoolers take that determines their future, took place on Nov. 17, and students now await the announcement of their results on Dec. 10. Though the education system in international schools differs from Korean high schools greatly in the lack of a final standardized test and the set-up of the school curriculum itself, both types of students face similar emphasis on academics from a young age—a culture that sprouted following the Korean War and highlights the importance of education as a pathway to success.
But the learning does not stop at school, and instead extends into non-school hours. Most Korean students attend hagwons, or cram schools, in order to gain a head start on content and receive better grades at school compared to their peers. The culture surrounding hagwons underscores academic success to the point that the government had to mandate a hagwon curfew of 10 p.m. to prevent students from being stuck at hagwons up till the early morning (some students even totaled up to 16 hours a day in hagwons). Some hagwons, however, still continue to skirt the law altogether and hold classes in secret.
While the pressure by itself is enormous, Korean school education policies often fluctuate under different government administrations. Governments understand that the education system is often a key concern for voters, especially those raising children, and wield policy changes to the system as a way to garner more support. Consequently, the path for children’s education becomes increasingly unclear as the curriculum continuously shifts its focus, which only contributes to the stress around their future. As a result, Suneung is often more stressful than other standardized tests like APs as their college acceptance results hinge only on their scores, while US colleges tend to view students more holistically.
As a result of the stress and overwork culture that begins at a young age, Korean teenagers have one of the highest rates of depression and suicide in OECD countries, with suicide being the leading cause of death for adolescents at 7.2 deaths per 100,000 people—fourth in the world. Furthermore, according to a survey by the National Youth Policy Institute in 2020, almost a third of Korean students revealed they had considered taking their life within the past year. 40 percent of those who had thought about committing suicide cited academic pressure as a main cause, which may even be underreported as mental health issues carry heavy social stigma in Korea and little treatment is available for those who suffer.
Furthermore, the pressure is not always internal. With the future of their children essentially resting on their academic performance, tiger parents are both a product and a perpetrator of the toxic education system in Korea. Tiger moms, who are well aware of the importance of education as former students themselves, drive the importance of academic success and extracurriculars, such as classical instruments, into their children. Furthermore, to supplant their children’s academic performance, many parents work harder to support the extra fees of tutoring and hagwons, with some parents even taking out risky loans to support the financial gamble as they invest in their children’s future. On the darker side, some parents resort to more sinister alternatives of “achieving” success by buying off scores and bribing school officials discreetly. As a result, to stop education from devolving into favorites, Korea passed several anti-graft laws restricting students and parents from giving teachers gifts in any form.
Despite all the negativity surrounding the issue, however, change is arising—although slowly. “Sky Castle,” a K-drama about ambitious families and students working to get into top universities, provided insight and reflection into the toxic, cut-throat culture of college admissions in which tiger parents and students do as much as they can to secure admission to the elite SKY (Seoul National, Korea, and Yonsei) universities. Furthermore, mental health awareness is slowly rising among all countries and dissolving the stigma surrounding the issue. Hopefully, for the good of both students and parents, the culture will slowly expand to embrace not just school achievement, but also the students’ health and other alternative modes of success.
And though to some it may seem so, the emphasis on education is not purely a toxic byproduct of Korean culture. The shared hopes and dreams of students everywhere to achieve academic success have led to churches holding services for students for the Suneung in hopes of increasing scores, bolstering community goodwill. Furthermore, uniquely for Korea, approximately 3000 police cars and 200 fire trucks are on standby to ensure that students get to their testing centers before they close in the morning. It is always important to consider not just the widely-known negatives of the culture, but the distinctive shared community goals this culture has produced for which everyone in the country respects.
Leaving Lunar rites behind
An article written for the school newspaper.
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As the bright and bulbous moon begins to wane, the start of the Lunar New Year has now passed, with the memories of meeting family and other rituals celebrating the coming of the Year of the Rabbit now slightly faded. Children have waved enthusiastic hellos and forlorn goodbyes to their wizened grandparents, while parents too have been overjoyed to return to their hometowns amidst hectic schedules. And, of course, children love sebae—the tradition of handing out generous sums of money in red envelopes. Yet, though the fundamental spirit of family gatherings has stayed the same, the same cannot be applied to other traditions, which have lost their hold on the event and have slowly been forgotten or discarded over time.
Traditionally, the Lunar New Year consists of several different events. The most well-known event is jesa, a memorial service for past generations meant to show respect and thanks for good fortune. Families lay out several different traditional dishes such as ddeok-guk (rice cake soup), hwang-tae-po (dried pollack), and dried jujube on a low wooden table for ancestors to sample. While the practice of respecting ancestors and asking for their blessings has not diminished, because of time-intensive practices like the painstaking insertion of pine nuts into dried jujube, many families often scale down the number of dishes they prepare and forgo the minor details altogether.
Another tradition that has seen a decline over the past decade is the wearing of traditional Korean clothes known as hanbok, which consists of colorful silk or cotton layers of skirts with baggy sleeves for women and puffy pants for men. Although hanbok is usually reserved for special occasions such as the Lunar New Year, purchases have fallen and family gatherings now more often consist of formal wear. Though there are many reasons behind this change, part of the reason is financial—hanbok is expensive to make and thus expensive to buy, especially considering that the garment is worn only a few times a year. Though there are some hanbok rental services that keep the garment accessible, many of these services often cater to tourists rather than Koreans preparing for a ceremonial event. Thus, Lunar New Year is now characterized by Western formal wear rather than traditional outfits.
Part of the compounding factors behind why this has happened is the gender norms enforced by Lunar New Year. Food is time-intensive to cook, prepare, and garnish, and because cooking is delegated to the women of the household, women are often huddled in the kitchen while the rest of the family enjoys the holiday. As younger generations are now more aware of stereotypical gender norms and steer away from them, traditional home-prepared food is also declining in a society where conveniently pre-packaged Lunar New Year dishes wait in department stores. After all, pre-made dishes have a reliable taste, are easily prepared or reheated at home, and are often much cheaper overall.
Some are alarmed over the disappearance of the Lunar New Year they celebrated even just a decade ago. The Sungkyunkwan Confucian Association Headquarters, a group of Korean Confucian scholars, have even simplified Lunar New Year “rules” in an attempt to draw in more celebrators and have acknowledged the heavy burden of traditional rites. Despite the toil associated with the holiday, many still champion traditional celebrations as valuable cultural heritage that must be preserved. Others argue that the interaction of old Korean roots with modern culture is representative of the natural shift of culture—for instance, couples visit in-laws and blood families indistinctly, which has lifted part of the social pressure that comes with deciding who to visit first.
In the end, the Lunar New Year is still the same—it has just shifted the way all things have done as the world continues to develop. Though some lament the past, for others it may be a step forward in casting aside gender norms and impractical traditions. But as long as the new year is celebrated with joy for all, 2023’s Lunar New Year was the same as ones from past years in spirit—which is remarkable considering the drastically shifting times. Whether celebrating festivities with multiple relatives or a small one with close family, remember to simply treasure those moments.
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As the bright and bulbous moon begins to wane, the start of the Lunar New Year has now passed, with the memories of meeting family and other rituals celebrating the coming of the Year of the Rabbit now slightly faded. Children have waved enthusiastic hellos and forlorn goodbyes to their wizened grandparents, while parents too have been overjoyed to return to their hometowns amidst hectic schedules. And, of course, children love sebae—the tradition of handing out generous sums of money in red envelopes. Yet, though the fundamental spirit of family gatherings has stayed the same, the same cannot be applied to other traditions, which have lost their hold on the event and have slowly been forgotten or discarded over time.
Traditionally, the Lunar New Year consists of several different events. The most well-known event is jesa, a memorial service for past generations meant to show respect and thanks for good fortune. Families lay out several different traditional dishes such as ddeok-guk (rice cake soup), hwang-tae-po (dried pollack), and dried jujube on a low wooden table for ancestors to sample. While the practice of respecting ancestors and asking for their blessings has not diminished, because of time-intensive practices like the painstaking insertion of pine nuts into dried jujube, many families often scale down the number of dishes they prepare and forgo the minor details altogether.
Another tradition that has seen a decline over the past decade is the wearing of traditional Korean clothes known as hanbok, which consists of colorful silk or cotton layers of skirts with baggy sleeves for women and puffy pants for men. Although hanbok is usually reserved for special occasions such as the Lunar New Year, purchases have fallen and family gatherings now more often consist of formal wear. Though there are many reasons behind this change, part of the reason is financial—hanbok is expensive to make and thus expensive to buy, especially considering that the garment is worn only a few times a year. Though there are some hanbok rental services that keep the garment accessible, many of these services often cater to tourists rather than Koreans preparing for a ceremonial event. Thus, Lunar New Year is now characterized by Western formal wear rather than traditional outfits.
Part of the compounding factors behind why this has happened is the gender norms enforced by Lunar New Year. Food is time-intensive to cook, prepare, and garnish, and because cooking is delegated to the women of the household, women are often huddled in the kitchen while the rest of the family enjoys the holiday. As younger generations are now more aware of stereotypical gender norms and steer away from them, traditional home-prepared food is also declining in a society where conveniently pre-packaged Lunar New Year dishes wait in department stores. After all, pre-made dishes have a reliable taste, are easily prepared or reheated at home, and are often much cheaper overall.
Some are alarmed over the disappearance of the Lunar New Year they celebrated even just a decade ago. The Sungkyunkwan Confucian Association Headquarters, a group of Korean Confucian scholars, have even simplified Lunar New Year “rules” in an attempt to draw in more celebrators and have acknowledged the heavy burden of traditional rites. Despite the toil associated with the holiday, many still champion traditional celebrations as valuable cultural heritage that must be preserved. Others argue that the interaction of old Korean roots with modern culture is representative of the natural shift of culture—for instance, couples visit in-laws and blood families indistinctly, which has lifted part of the social pressure that comes with deciding who to visit first.
In the end, the Lunar New Year is still the same—it has just shifted the way all things have done as the world continues to develop. Though some lament the past, for others it may be a step forward in casting aside gender norms and impractical traditions. But as long as the new year is celebrated with joy for all, 2023’s Lunar New Year was the same as ones from past years in spirit—which is remarkable considering the drastically shifting times. Whether celebrating festivities with multiple relatives or a small one with close family, remember to simply treasure those moments.
The Korean mental health crisis: consequences of COVID-19
An article written for the school newspaper.
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Currently, over 20 percent of Americans experience some form of mental illness, which experts attribute partly to the COVID-19 pandemic. Following the lockdowns that forced people inside their homes for an extended period of time, rates of depression and anxiety have risen across the world, with more people than ever on anti-anxiety and anti-depression drugs like Prozac and other SSRIs.
Korea, too, has felt similar effects of the pandemic at its peak. Though overall rates of suicide have not increased, suicides among parts of the population have risen—especially among teenagers and women. Teenagers are feeling the pressure of workloads returning to pre-pandemic levels, whilst also feeling increased isolation due to an underdeveloped social network during the pandemic. Moreover, many of these students have fewer social skills due to the lack of sufficient interaction for their age during the pandemic, which in turn increases their vulnerability to mental health issues.
Even before COVID-19, however, Korea struggled with high rates of isolation among their teenagers, who were rated to have some of the worst social skills in the world. The pandemic has only exacerbated this problem—teenagers are increasingly spending time indoors and on their phones, failing to form the bonds with their community that are essential to finding a necessary support system. As such, teenage depression rates have shot up, and there have recently been several publicized high-profile suicides that have left citizens wondering if the COVID-19 pandemic is partly to blame for isolating students and depriving them of a key socialization period in a significant period of their lives.
More specifically, the SIS community, too, has been heavily affected by the pandemic. The current freshmen, for instance, have never once had a fully offline middle school experience—a crucial time for developing adolescents’ social and communicative skills. Now, freshmen have been thrust into a high-pressure environment in which they must adapt to a rigorous curriculum despite having faced more lenient rules throughout the last three years of school. In the meantime, other grades too have had to endure the jarring experience of becoming adjusted to different standards in the midst of high school without as strong of a community as they might have hoped to have.
As a response to declining mental health rates, a large number of doctors have been prescribing meditation to patients. Over 40 percent of patients reported greater levels of stress during the pandemic due to increased isolation or a rapidly changing world, and the current trend seems as if it is here to stay—especially concerning as poor mental health may have a domino effect of harms into the future, negatively affecting all aspects of life for people in the future. After all, mental health is the foundation for taking care of oneself, including physical health and also keeping a rational outlook on the world. Without a solid structure to build upon, people may easily see themselves falling into depression, anxiety, or burnout, the effects of which are only worsened by the increased isolation of a post-COVID-19 society.
And if another pandemic were to unfortunately occur, perhaps it will be time to look into alternate forms of those solutions. In the wake of the rising mental health issue, many are promoting ways to improve mental health. The pandemic’s effects have been inevitable for everyone, and the stigma surrounding therapy must continue to be dissolved so that the world can move past the lingering effects of the lockdown and hopefully buffer the effects of the ongoing serious mental health crisis.
Combating the lingering effects, traditional in-person treatments like therapy have moved online, and doctors have prescribed easy-to-do activities at home like meditation to promote mental health. Other treatments have been effectively used, such as keeping a mood diary or joining community mental health support groups both online and offline to help rebuild a sense of community eradicated by the pandemic as well as a sense of normalcy in a post-lockdown world. While not COVID-19 mental health specific treatments, these general modes of mental self-care are a crucial step for people before diving into more serious forms of action like medication or hospitalization. Furthermore, such self-care methods’ positive impacts can reach beyond just addressing COVID-19 related issues—and instead also be used to combat everyday life to achieve better mental health.
For such treatments to reach everyone on a larger scale and become more effective overall, however, studies show that the stigma regarding mental health issues should be reduced. With past K-pop stars and American celebrities becoming widely applauded for opening up about attending therapy, as well as general acceptance of mental healthcare in general, there have been great strides over the past few decades. But still, this may not be enough to fully combat the issues when the issue is so time-pressing.
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Currently, over 20 percent of Americans experience some form of mental illness, which experts attribute partly to the COVID-19 pandemic. Following the lockdowns that forced people inside their homes for an extended period of time, rates of depression and anxiety have risen across the world, with more people than ever on anti-anxiety and anti-depression drugs like Prozac and other SSRIs.
Korea, too, has felt similar effects of the pandemic at its peak. Though overall rates of suicide have not increased, suicides among parts of the population have risen—especially among teenagers and women. Teenagers are feeling the pressure of workloads returning to pre-pandemic levels, whilst also feeling increased isolation due to an underdeveloped social network during the pandemic. Moreover, many of these students have fewer social skills due to the lack of sufficient interaction for their age during the pandemic, which in turn increases their vulnerability to mental health issues.
Even before COVID-19, however, Korea struggled with high rates of isolation among their teenagers, who were rated to have some of the worst social skills in the world. The pandemic has only exacerbated this problem—teenagers are increasingly spending time indoors and on their phones, failing to form the bonds with their community that are essential to finding a necessary support system. As such, teenage depression rates have shot up, and there have recently been several publicized high-profile suicides that have left citizens wondering if the COVID-19 pandemic is partly to blame for isolating students and depriving them of a key socialization period in a significant period of their lives.
More specifically, the SIS community, too, has been heavily affected by the pandemic. The current freshmen, for instance, have never once had a fully offline middle school experience—a crucial time for developing adolescents’ social and communicative skills. Now, freshmen have been thrust into a high-pressure environment in which they must adapt to a rigorous curriculum despite having faced more lenient rules throughout the last three years of school. In the meantime, other grades too have had to endure the jarring experience of becoming adjusted to different standards in the midst of high school without as strong of a community as they might have hoped to have.
As a response to declining mental health rates, a large number of doctors have been prescribing meditation to patients. Over 40 percent of patients reported greater levels of stress during the pandemic due to increased isolation or a rapidly changing world, and the current trend seems as if it is here to stay—especially concerning as poor mental health may have a domino effect of harms into the future, negatively affecting all aspects of life for people in the future. After all, mental health is the foundation for taking care of oneself, including physical health and also keeping a rational outlook on the world. Without a solid structure to build upon, people may easily see themselves falling into depression, anxiety, or burnout, the effects of which are only worsened by the increased isolation of a post-COVID-19 society.
And if another pandemic were to unfortunately occur, perhaps it will be time to look into alternate forms of those solutions. In the wake of the rising mental health issue, many are promoting ways to improve mental health. The pandemic’s effects have been inevitable for everyone, and the stigma surrounding therapy must continue to be dissolved so that the world can move past the lingering effects of the lockdown and hopefully buffer the effects of the ongoing serious mental health crisis.
Combating the lingering effects, traditional in-person treatments like therapy have moved online, and doctors have prescribed easy-to-do activities at home like meditation to promote mental health. Other treatments have been effectively used, such as keeping a mood diary or joining community mental health support groups both online and offline to help rebuild a sense of community eradicated by the pandemic as well as a sense of normalcy in a post-lockdown world. While not COVID-19 mental health specific treatments, these general modes of mental self-care are a crucial step for people before diving into more serious forms of action like medication or hospitalization. Furthermore, such self-care methods’ positive impacts can reach beyond just addressing COVID-19 related issues—and instead also be used to combat everyday life to achieve better mental health.
For such treatments to reach everyone on a larger scale and become more effective overall, however, studies show that the stigma regarding mental health issues should be reduced. With past K-pop stars and American celebrities becoming widely applauded for opening up about attending therapy, as well as general acceptance of mental healthcare in general, there have been great strides over the past few decades. But still, this may not be enough to fully combat the issues when the issue is so time-pressing.
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