Writing a Self-Introduction Through Experience
In September 2013, I was a twenty-year-old university student. Around that time, by chance, I started a current affairs study group with friends from my club. Every Saturday, we gathered to engage in discussions—or rather, discussions—about domestic current events. At first, I was just an engineering student who knew nothing about society, politics, or economics; I simply enjoyed meeting with friends every week to talk. Then, starting with a meeting where we discussed the concept of small deals, I began to think beyond just chatting with friends. I started pondering what was truly needed for the world, for changing the world. I had always said my dream was to use technology to present people with 'topics for discussion'. But that dream lacked deep contemplation about what kind of society I wanted, what kind of world I desired. It was merely a dream for the sake of being a dream. After studying small deals and realizing how crucial starting small—that is, beginning with local consciousness change—truly is, and how much study it requires, I began paying attention to local matters and village communities. Once I started paying just a little attention, opportunities opened up before me. I participated in the Opaesan Village Festival, a neighborhood celebration; the Health House Project activities; and pro bono fair trade travel initiatives. Those steps opened up my thinking, which had been confined within the university walls, and made me ponder what I truly desired. In September 2014, I was a young man drained of all strength. I was a young man betrayed by someone I trusted, suffering not only emotionally but physically from a fever. Then, by chance, I learned about a small gathering called Guitar Kitchen held at Youth Planet 209. I remembered the guitar gathering dust in the corner of my room. That's when I realized I could count on one hand the new music I'd listened to this year. And I thought: as my interest in music faded, that very question disappeared, and with it, the questions I had about myself vanished too. I joined Guitar Kitchen with a vague hope that if I could regain my questions about music, I might naturally begin to ask questions about myself again. During the three months I spent with Guitar Kitchen at Youth Planet 209, many changes came over me. I stopped feeling sick, began seeking out new music, and met many precious people. Through this, I read many books, grew stronger, and began contemplating how I should live. These changes weren't solely due to the guitar and the kitchen. They were because of the people at Youth Planet 209—people who supported and cheered each other's independence. Empowered by them and able to face new things, I now want to share that strength with others. Even now, when standing alone in this world feels difficult. But if we join hands with others, share that strength, and draw upon each other's power, might the youth of our region, and indeed our nation, feel a little less shaken? In February 2015, a twenty-year-old university student became a young person drained of energy. That young person then, wanting to give strength to others, became a student on leave. There are certainly advantages and areas needing improvement that come with being on leave. I still struggle to articulate clearly what kind of society I truly desire. I want to go through the process of developing my clear voice through youth activism in the community. I have a deep interest in culture and the arts, history, humanities, and have a background of studying these subjects. I can gather young people who want to engage with these areas and work together on projects that empower us. I also want to possess the voice that only youth can raise. I want to gather voices that can only be raised now, not later. I want to contemplate what we must grapple with and grow stronger based on that. I want to proclaim something compelling that can connect with more people beyond this space. That's why I want to create seeds capable of sparking change. I major in computer science. I thirst for practicality more than anyone. I won't forget what's practical. While I could easily get lost in fantasy, I'll strive to create tangible, visible, and touchable things to prevent that. Such things form the very foundation of who I am. I absolutely hate horror movies. Yet, in the lecture club I belonged to, a senior announced she would give a lecture on horror films. I feared that lecture, but through it, I came to understand why people enjoy horror films and learned about their various genres. Just as I gained diverse knowledge and understood others through lectures in my university's lecture club, I now want to acquire their lives through experience and confrontation, and reflect on my own life. From the people I meet in the village, I will hear about lives I haven't lived and paths I haven't walked, and I will experience them. Just as I accepted horror films, I want to accept their lives. In that process, I want to look back on the path I've walked, following a set course, and together discover what I missed along the way, or what they might be missing. We all live in this world with a sense of unease. Perhaps it's inevitable, being human with a predetermined end to our lives. Some say that only within a stable life can one find the leisure to pursue what they truly want or love. I think I spent a long time wrestling with this idea because of that statement. But now, I can state my goal with confidence. I will strive to find stability within my anxiety. Not by pursuing something unstable within a stable life, but by accepting my anxious state as it is and finding what I can do steadily within it. Not suffering to achieve a stable life, but suffering to accept my anxiety as it is—that kind of youth. I want to live as that kind of young person.