I cover a wide range of stories about Korean society — one of the most dynamic places in the world. To me, journalism means being on the ground, uncovering untold stories and amplifying marginalized voices, especially in an era when AI is reshaping the media landscape. That’s why I’m always here to listen. Tips and stories are welcome — feel free to reach out via email. Before becoming a journalist, I traveled through 24 countries over 702 days, served two years as a military police officer in the Republic of Korea Air Force and later studied filmmaking at the Korea National University of Arts.
Step into the future you envision
Jeong Hun-do
By Park Ung
Hello, my name is Jeong Hun-do, and I am here to speak as one of the judges. With the addition of the new university student category, all of us on the judging panel approached our work with great care.
But for me, as a fellow university student, the process felt especially personal. I felt the weight of evaluating people my own age — or even those with more experience — and the responsibility that comes with being a young judge who can more deeply listen to and empathize with their stories.
As I read through the applications and resumes, what I felt — regardless of the evaluation — was admiration and respect. Each form represented a life far too big to fit on a few sheets of paper. From elementary school students to university students, every applicant was chasing a dream and striving to prove themselves within their own generation. And this feeling was shared by every judge.
Although every judge evaluated the applicants fairly and objectively, we could all sense the quiet encouragement that surfaced whenever a student’s name was called.
No matter whose name came up, we found ourselves empathizing with their journey, admiring their efforts, and discussing their stories as if we were sharing impressions after reading a novel.
Today, you stand here as representatives of a generation of children from immigrant families — but what we judged was never your background. It was the life each of you has built.
I am reminded of when I received this very award at the age of 19. I had grown up in a low-income household, and thanks to the help and support of many people, I was able to enter Seoul National University.
Encouraged by that achievement, I applied for this award, hoping to present myself as a model example of a child from an immigrant-background family. Years later, I was told by members of the organizing committee that what moved the judges was not the “model image” I tried to show, but the determination and willpower behind myself.
They told me my story was like a lotus flower blooming in the mud. In that moment, I felt not only pride for how hard I had worked, but also warmth and gratitude in realizing that the world had been watching and understanding me.
My recommender wrote about the parts of my life that could never fit neatly on paper, and the judges read them. The warmth and message I received on that winter day in 2017 are what I hope to pass on to all of you now, in 2025, as I stand here as a judge.
Before anything else, as a fellow second-generation Korean from an immigrant family, there is something I want to tell you. Korea is gradually becoming more accepting of multicultural backgrounds, but I know that each of you has faced prejudice at some point in your lives.
Even so, I hope you will choose not to live your lives trying to “prove” yourselves in the face of prejudice or because of your background.
I hope you will live for the future you dream of. I hope you will never feel pressured to decide whether your identity is Korean or something else. Your identity is the life you have built with your own hands.
And that identity holds entrepreneurial spirit. It holds care for North Korean defector communities. It holds student council work, academic effort and a love of reading.
It holds nursing, local community leadership, remarkable linguistic ability, canoeing, erhu music, running, pungmul nori (traditional Korean farmer's music), dancing, singing — even trot music.
Your identities are far too bright, too varied, too extraordinary to ever be confined by labels like “immigrant background” or “Korean.”
So on a night when the early dawn is deepening, or on a long walk home after a tiring day, or in a moment when you find yourself confronting prejudice again — I hope this award and the meaning behind it return to you.
It’s the reminder that many people in our society are watching over your lives, cheering for you always, and hoping that you will find happiness as you pursue your dreams.
The phrase “Global Korea” ultimately means this: that our community is not limited by region or nationality, but includes everyone who has put down roots on the Korean peninsula.
You, too, are people who have put down your roots on this land, and as the name of this award suggests, I will be cheering for you as you continue to meet others without prejudice, laugh and cry with people from all walks of life and live out your own life.
Thank you.
Jeong Hun-do, a senior in the Department of Agricultural Economics and Rural Development at Seoul National University, is a judge of the Global Korea Awards. He was a winner of the Outstanding High School Students Award in 2017.