Dear readers,The passing of The SNU Quill’s twentieth anniversary marks a significant milestone—one that prompts us to pause, step back, and reflect. Not only on the two decades behind us, but on the ways in which the past lingers, echoing into the present. It feels like just yesterday that I joined Quill as a sophomore, unsure of who I was and feeling adrift in the vastness of Seoul National University. Here, in writing and the company of like-minded peers, I found my anchor. And over the years, I came to recognize that this magazine is not merely a publication but a resonant space—where the insights of past contributors are carried forward by those in the present, where my own once-scattered sense of belonging found form in continuity. Quill’s evolution, however, is not so much a neat, linear narrative that coincides with the march of time. It has been shaped and reshaped, tested and renewed. You have witnessed us venture into the digital sphere, experiment with new mediums of expression, and refine our existing foundations. Some of these efforts proved fleeting, others more lasting. Yet, all arose from a common striving to ensure our voices are heard amid the dizzying currents of a changing world. And through it all, one constant has endured: our commitment to long-form writing. Though we have dabbled in lighter, bite-sized pieces, it is our more extensive, contemplative analyses that sit at the heart of Quill’s identity. In a culture that too readily celebrates brevity and the easily digestible, we remain steadfast. And we sincerely hope that you, our readers, perceive this as more than a stylistic preference—it is a stance: a deliberate embrace of the slower, more careful act of dwelling with complexity and nuance, capturing what might otherwise slip quietly past us. This, in other words, is a resistance of the ephemeral and an insistence that meaning resonates most in what endures. So from this spirit emerges the guiding theme of our 83rd edition: resonance. Resonance implores us—and you, our readers—to consider how ideas and experiences reverberate across space and time. How do they leave imprints that shape us long after the initial moment has passed? In what ways does history inform our present reality and extend into the future? These ripples move across personal, cultural, and political boundaries, laying bare what is most profoundly human and universal. Thus, as you journey through this edition, you will feel these reverberations in many forms. In the pages of SNU Society, we encounter pressing issues that echo through student life: the scarcity of communal spaces where students can dwell between classes, eroding belonging and opportunities to flourish; the overlooked struggles of international students, invited in the name of globalization yet too often left to fend for themselves; and the arduous trek up Gwanaksan, a mirror of students’ ceaseless academic climb. In Features, where our gaze stretches beyond the bounds of the university, resonance deepens. At the intersection of culture and technology, we examine the paralyzing, voyeuristic specter of molka, a phenomenon that has haunted Korean society for as long as memory serves. We trace the gradual rollout of autonomous vehicles onto Korea’s expansive, metropolitan roads, contrasting its slow adoption with the bolder strides of China and the U. S. And we reflect on the phenomenon of “quiet quitting,” a direct response to toxic, hierarchical workplace culture and disillusionment that finds localized renditions across the globe. Further cultural anxieties are dissected in Arts & Culture: the evolution of the Lion King universe, and the insidious implications of what has been added in and conveniently left out; the morbid entanglement of body horror and body fantasy; and the bubbling tensions between the thorny complexities of adolescence and the emerging manosphere. None of these issues exist in a vacuum, nor have they sprung without origin. Rather, they have extensive histories and contexts from which ongoing dialogue grows—always living, breathing, and expanding. Their significance will persist long after the ink dries, long after the page is turned. And so I beckon to you, our dear readers, to not only witness our stories but to sit with them, ponder them, and carry forward their resonance into conversations yet to come. Sincerely yours,Lee Hee Seo

Since 2018, the Diversity Council has run an annual program titled Understanding Diversity Among SNU Members aimed at SNU staff. Several years ago, when the floor was opened for questions after a ninety-minute diversity training session, a male staff member asked something quite shocking. He questioned whether the initiative was merely promoting a guise of gender equality under the name of diversity. I was momentarily taken aback but responded that we have never disguised it as anything else—in fact, among many diversity agendas, gender equality is a top priority.  Why did he ask such a question? Did it stem from a lack of understanding of university diversity policies, discomfort with the topic of gender equality, suspicion that women may be given preferential treatment under the banner of gender equality in what should be a meritocracy, or perhaps the belief that our society (or organization) is already equal for all genders? Since 2017, the Diversity Council has published an annual Diversity Report that lists a plethora of indices, which include gender, nationality, employment position, contract type (e. g. , tenure-track vs. non-tenure, permanent vs. fixed-term, etc. ), alma mater (e. g. , domestic vs. overseas), and disability status. Most notably, all tables include gender statistics.  In 2022, UNESCO published a report titled Gender Equality: How Global Universities Are Performing Part I, Part II. Only universities that submitted gender equality indicators (related to SDG 5 among the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals) were included in the analysis. Because few Korean universities provided such data, Korea was excluded from national rankings. Nevertheless, when examining global rankings that encompass all regions, it is possible to assess the relative level of gender equality at Korean universities. And unfortunately, compared with top-ranking institutions, Korean universities still rank notably low in the category of gender equality.  Let’s examine Seoul National University’s statistics related to indicators of gender equality in higher education. The most notably important indicators are considered to be the proportion of women among full-time faculty and their representation in governance. As of October 1, 2023, women accounted for 20. 6% of full-time faculty. The university’s regulations have now incorporated a plan to raise this figure to 25% by 2030, leading to gradual annual increases. The proportion of women in major leadership positions slightly exceeds that of full-time faculty at 21. 8%, while the proportion of women on key committees stands at 24. 6%. These figures are relatively low compared to universities abroad. Meanwhile, the proportion of women among students is 35. 5% at the undergraduate level, 50. 7% in master’s programs, and 45. 4% in doctoral programs.  A noticeable change in recent years is the decrease in the proportion of female students at an undergraduate level. Compared to other universities, Seoul National University has a relatively low proportion of female students. According to the earlier UNESCO report, around three-quarters of universities worldwide have female students making up more than half of their enrollment. Although the education section is often regarded as the most advanced in terms of gender equality among the nation’s political, economic, and social spheres, it still falls short of the global average. This underscores that gender equality remains an urgent issue on the diversity agenda, not just for Seoul National University, but across Korean universities nationwide. Meanwhile, gender equality has not yet been established as a central policy goal in Korean higher education. This is why the Diversity Council must persist in keeping its voice alive through its reports.   The author is the Senior Expert Coordinator of Seoul National University’s Diversity Council. --Ed. [Translated from Korean into English by The SNU Quill's editorial staff]

I remember the world in 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic swept across nations. Every medical facility was mobilized to save human life, and through global cooperation, a vaccine was developed in just over a year. I remember all that was devoted to healing sick and suffering bodies.  At the same time, I remember the years 2010 to 2011. When foot-and-mouth disease spread across South Korea, tens of millions of animals were killed, on the mere suspicion of infection. The full force of the state was mobilized to bury these bodies, dead or alive. I remember the cruelty inflicted upon these sick and suffering bodies.  Simply stating that “I remember” is not quite right. While the chaos of COVID-19 is largely behind us, livestock epidemics continue to recur year after year. One cannot remember what has not yet ended. That is why it is wrong for me to say that “I remember” the mass culling of animals during these ongoing outbreaks.  Let me correct myself once more. Even stating that livestock epidemics have “not ended” is misleading, because we never truly attempted to eradicate them. We have neither quarantined infected animals to allow them to recover naturally, nor have we made efforts to treat them so that they might heal. In fact, even saying that we are attempting to put an end to livestock epidemics is wrong. In reality, we are actively creating the very conditions for disease to thrive. We pump animals with growth hormones that inevitably ruin their immune systems to accelerate their biological growth. We expose them to glaring, artificial lighting that renders sleep impossible. We confine them to cages so small they cannot move and have no choice but to live in their own waste. Under these conditions, these living and breathing beings are senselessly culled in the name of "efficiency. " In fact, it is not only animals that die in the name of efficiency—humans are also mobilized for such mass culling. Such work involves the systematic killing of millions of animals, creating intensely violent working conditions that leave countless workers with deep psychological scars. In the past, soldiers and public officials were assigned to this task, leading to 75% suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and nine losing their lives. As the brutality of cullings came under public scrutiny, the labor was passed onto foreign migrant workers, who are often excluded from official health statistics. As a result, we cannot know how many lives are lost to the culling process.  Some argue that consuming meat is an unavoidable part of survival. But how far does this claim of inevitability truly extend? Does it apply only to the slabs of meat served on our plates? Does it also include the animals that are raped and forcibly impregnated to produce that meat? The ones confined in cramped spaces for life, all in the name of efficiency? Those slaughtered for simply falling ill in environments designed to breed disease? Or the migrant workers who face severe psychological trauma as they are forced to carry out the mass killing of millions of animals? How deeply must death embed itself into our daily lives before we can no longer look away? This year, there have once again been multiple outbreaks of livestock diseases—avian influenza, foot-and-mouth disease, and African swine fever, among others. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of animals have been indiscriminately slaughtered, simply for contracting illness or for being located in the vicinity of outbreaks. Meanwhile, countless new workers must bear the psychological toll of their working conditions, and some have likely even been pushed to the brink of suicide.  Unless we begin to question the very foundation of a system built on the loss of life, these “unavoidable deaths" will only continue.   The author is the President of Seoul National University’s vegan society nubegans. --Ed. [Translated from Korean into English by The SNU Quill's editorial staff]

Dear readers,Autumn, my favorite season, fled early in 2024, but at least Mother Nature gifted us with the most majestic first snow. Alongside the winter breeze, I wrapped up my second year at university and Quill. Within these years of change, I’ve experienced a chaos of emotions, more intense and varied than ever before. At times I felt like a misplaced puzzle piece, struggling to fit into the broader picture of the school community. But behind the facade to blend in, this feeling of disorder and displacement seem to be shared by everyone in their 20s: ironically, it was this shared sense of isolation that strengthened the bond between me and my fellow members. So whether it was the guilt or the defiance, joy or the sorrow, isolation and its tolerance, I look back, and say, at least it was beautiful. Isn’t that the irony of scattered fragments, disorderly yet weirdly beautiful? Originally, our 82nd theme of Fragments intended to play with this idea, to expand the term’s interpretation beyond its negative connotations. A fragment was once a part of a whole, so is it now unable to fulfill its intended purpose? Or does it gain a new purpose? The world moves at a fast pace—outpacing laws and at times even culture—breaking things along the way. How can we find new beauty, new meaning, in this chaotic world? How do we piece back fragments and reconstruct identity based on this new world? And observe how, though back together, its form has changed, ever so slightly.  To the naked eye, white light appears uniform. But when dispersed, it reveals the spectrum of distinct constituting colors: fragments that, though individually vivid, collectively form an illusion of singularity. And just like light passing through a prism, a seemingly singular entity can be dispersed into its many components, where the fragments are not new, but have always existed. The same holds true for identity, whether that of a country, community, or individual: what may ostensibly appear homogeneous, is a collection of all the contradictions, tensions, and individual stories that define it. But perhaps it is only through fragmentation—through dispersion—that we can fully understand what we take for granted.  Old stories linger on our campus, and new conflicts emerge. We open SNU Society with a piece on the history of our very own campus, often overlooked in our daily walks to class. Our in-campus investigations continue: from debates on the usage of electric vehicles (whether you love them or hate them) to a critique of the contemporary Student Council which seems to embody a new era of apolitical leadership. But perhaps tensions and disagreements still display a shared endearment towards our university.  Beyond campus, Features delves into larger societal shifts and the challenges they create. A look into Sejong City—once an ambitious dream—reveals the administrative failures that reduced it to no more than a lofty vision. We also examine the dilemma law faces as technology giants accelerate innovation while edging toward monopoly. From this macro-level conflict, we zoom in on generational tensions by exploring the rise of No-Kid Zones. Even amid the growing friction in this fragmented society, empathy may offer a path forward. On a more personal scale, a piece analyzes self-help books as a reflection of the mental state of Korean youth. In Arts and Culture, our articles explore memory and its preservation, distortion, and transformation through art. How does digitally assisted memory reshape our perception of nostalgia, and what does the film Past Lives reveal about this theme? How does House of Hummingbird use the female gaze in cinema to portray girlhood, and what does it say about the act of remembering history? Our articles shift to cultural disagreements and societal changes. We turn to the conflict within the Korean Football Association, questioning how this split may sacrifice performance of the league. Alongside these issues, we examine the commodification of self-love, once an act of resistance, now appropriated by corporations; in the over-consumerist setting we live in, how can we reclaim the practice?Finally, the Short Articles section begins with a trilogy that follows the journey of Korean elite athlete trainees and the systemic failures that leave them lost once they leave their dreams of turning professional. In another piece, we look at AI’s growing dominance and a natural resurgence of the necessity for nuclear energy in response to such demands. What Korean dopamine-centric media and the return of the thin beauty ideal reveal about the ever-amplifying influence of social media on modern culture. We discuss the failures of panda conservation policies, the effect of US-China trade conflict on Korea’s automotive industry, and the ongoing issues with safety regulations and traffic accidents on campus. Welcome, readers, to a selection of articles that dissect a seemingly singular entity, fragmenting it into the constituents that form it: whether it be the individual shards of history that shape the present or the current conflicts and divisions that may have gone unnoticed. How, in an ever-changing world, can we reconstruct meaning, identity, and systems?It was a pleasure reading these articles at every stage and having my worldview gently expanded. I express my deepest appreciation to the Quill staff. Each writer has brought admirable talent to the table, and the editors and sub-editors have polished and refined these powerful ideas into the final product we present to you today. To our art team, thank you for bringing all these great ideas to life. Each design and aesthetic decision shaped this issue into something beautiful. And to our photographers who have captured the essence of this edition, I express my admiration for your work that adds depth and dimension to these pages. Last but not least, thank you to the strategic team, for the dedication to make Quill recognized in our school community. Sincerely yours,Joo Young

Last week, Seoul National University decided to approve its medical students' gap years, almost a year after the students started refusing to attend classes in protest of the government's medical reform initiatives. SNU became to first university to do so, despite the government's pressure not to. In what appears to be retaliatory measures, the Ministry of Education launched an audit on SNU. The chairperson of the Emergency Committee of SNU Medical Center Professors, Professor Kang Hee-kyung, said it was only right that the school approve the student's gap years. In an interview with campus newspaper, SNU News, professor Kang said “If we do not approve the students' gap years, we have to hold all of them back a year. And that cannot happen. ”Eventually, the ministry back down, announcing on 6 Oct. that it would allow students to take a gap year, given that they return for the 2025 spring semester. However, it was a different announcement by the ministry that sparked massive debates. In order to preemptively combat future medical staff shortages that is expected to result from the students' walkout, the ministry said it would mull reducing the medical school curriculum from six years to five. This proposal sparked criticisms from both the opposition party and the medical community. Suspicions arose that the ministry did not thoroughly consider the impact of such a decision. The medical community argued that five years was not enough time to learn everything one needs to actively save lives, while both colleges and the Ministry of Health said it was not consulted when the Education Ministry drafted the proposal. Facing harsh backlash, the ministry took a step back on Monday, saying that the proposal did not mean all colleges had to adopt the five-year curriculum. Rather, it meant the government would fully support colleges that wished to do so, according to the Ministry. Criticisms continued that the ministry was hasty in announcing the proposal, and that it was changing its words. Ultimately the ministry retracted its proposal on Tuesday. But debates concerning the measures did not stop there. Doubts were cast as to whether the Yoon administration was capable of making thorough and thoughtful policy decisions. Suspicions were raised as to whether inter-ministerial communications and inter-cabinet coordination were functional. However, this is not the first time that different ministries in the Yoon administration failed to unify their voice. Labor reform and gender equality initiatives were all tarnished by communication issues. The Yoon administration has one of the highest rates of policy initiatives that were scrapped before fruition. Meanwhile, the side effects of the medical students' walkout still linger as questions that need to be answered by the government. As med students return next year, how are universities going to cope with the sudden influx of students and still provide them with quality education? How will the administration address medical staff shortages that arise from a smaller graduating class? Many of the med students that took a gap year enlisted in the military. How will the government deal with shortages of medical officers in the military a couple of years down the line?More importantly, can the government better coordinate and communicate its policies? Can it escape its exclusive attitude and communicate with local universities and the medical community in order to overcome the situation? Only questions remain.  The author is a former Editor-in-Chief and the current Chief Editorial Writer at The SNU Quill. –Ed.

Proud graduates of Seoul National University, Ph. D. , Master's, and Bachelor's!I deeply congratulate you on your graduation. Appreciation and gratitude, memories of many encounters, the tension of standing at a starting line, moments containing both excitement and apprehension about the future, I think these are the timeless experiences shared at commencement ceremonies. Thinking again on the meaning behind this crossroad between past moments and the upcoming future, I extend my deepest congratulations and encouragement to you, graduates, the star of this special moment. There were probably moments of adversities and fulfillments layered in the days you’ve spent studying and researching, to be able to stand here today. It is even more meaningful that you have achieved this success while enduring through the COVID-19 pandemic. To adapt to the accelerated future, you have been working hard by broadening your experiences and to taking on challenges. The diverse skills you have accumulated by overcoming these difficulties are your unique assets that will shine in your future. As you celebrate today, remember to express your gratitude and to share your joy with those who have supported you with love—your family and friends, the professors who have taught and nurtured you, and the staff members who have supported your activities throughout the campus. Above all, I hope you deeply cherish the expectations of the country, the society, and the people of Korea, who have supported Seoul National University on the basis of trust, so that you may study and research. To my beloved graduates,Now Seoul National University has become your alma mater. From now on, in society, you will express and practice the identity and values you have formed here. The “Values of Seoul National University,” that we have aspired to share as an academic community, will now be realized in the global stage through your contributions. As graduates, you are Seoul National University’s messenger and symbol. If truth has grown into your light here, now spread that light far into the world. If, in the process of seeking the truth, you have discovered the seeds of hope and the possibility of happiness, now share that hope and happiness with more people. Today, Mr. Kim Jun-koo, the CEO of Naver Webtoon, has joined us as a special guest to congratulate your commencement. About 20 years ago, just like you, Mr. Kim stood at a new starting line. After graduation, Mr. Kim has pioneered a new field, demonstrating to us all, the power of hope and passion. When webtoons, now a big culture, were at its infancy, and now-famous webtoon artists were once unknown with uncertain futures, it is Mr. Kim Jun-koo who sowed and cultivated the seeds of webtoon in Korea together with them. And now, Mr. Kim is spreading K-webtoon beyond Korea and into the world. I hope that all of you graduating today will also believe in your ability and potential, and boldly venture into the world. There, you will find your happiness, and hope which you will spread to all. To you graduates, the future of us all,I trust that even as you step out into society, you will not lose the sense of pride that comes with being a part of Seoul National University. This pride is different from arrogance or self-praise—it embodies a passion for pursuing universal values. The title of being a Seoul National University graduate is not a label for self-promotion, but a qualification that represents our pride in the value of learning and contribution that opens doors to the future. I hope you live up to that qualification by not settling for comfort but instead leading the way in pioneering an uncertain future. Develop the insight to look more broadly and further, to illuminate our collective future, and fully utilize your honed abilities to realize the common good. Your alma mater will always support you, and be proud of you. Even though you leave your beloved campus today, the gates to Seoul National University will always be open to you. When your experiences in the field spark a desire for more learning, when you need the wisdom and guidance of mentors who have once awakened the meaning of maturity in you, or when you feel nostalgic for the memories on campus, always feel free to return to the campus of Seoul National University. As an 'academic community leading the era of great transformation,' Seoul National University will continue to innovate and grow, becoming a source of pride for both you and the entire nation. To you graduates, who have walked the road of learning with resilience,I once again congratulate and support your graduation and your new and brighter journey. I wish your future to always be filled with both great and small moments of fulfillment. Thank you.  This speech was given by Dr. Yoo Hong-lim, President of Seoul National University, at the 78th Commencement Ceremony. The speech was given in Korean, and was adapted to English by The SNU Quill's editorial staff. --Ed.

Hello. I am Kim Min-gyu, candidate for the 64th SNU Student Council President, running under the campaign name, Signal. Through this contribution, I would like to introduce our vision and our commitments to the members of SNU’s diverse community—especially to our international students. For the past few years, the Student Council has achieved many accomplishments, including the implementation of a food distribution counter system for the 1000 won cafeteria and the establishment of new shuttle buses. However, it is regretful that these accomplishments were not maintained systematically. The term for Student Council is very short, lasting only one-year. As a result, good policies are implemented every year, but most of the times, they expire without much development in the long term. Therefore, Signal plans to go beyond solving isolated problems, to create deeper changes within the lives of students by creating a sustainable Student Council system. A sustainable Student Council and the value of cooperationSignal plans to make a student community that creates larger value by connecting diverse resources both on and off-campus. For example, we plan to provide more opportunities to connect student capabilities with the local community by expanding the SAM mentoring program, in coordination with the Gwanak-gu Office. Through this, we hope that international students will be able to communicate more intimately with the local society, and earn not only achievements in their academic fields, but also diverse networking opportunities. Moreover, we will establish more exchange programs with overseas colleges, so that students will be able to experience more cultures, and provide a stage for academic exchange. We will especially work to provide exchange programs for international students, which allow SNU to interact with their home countries.  Tailored commitments for international studentsInternational students are vital members of the SNU community, and often times, their requests and voices are not fully reflected. Signal seeks to showcase commitments that can initiate real change for international students. 1.     Increased cooperation with SNU International Students Association (SISA): We will strengthen cooperation with SISA so that we can reflect more opinions from SNU’s international student community. Through this, we will create a system which can more effectively tackle the problems and requests of international students. 2.     Renewal of SNUON lectures: There are many circumstances in which international students have a hard time accessing class materials. Signal will ensure that the current SNUON platform is renewed so that important lectures and resources are expanded. Through this, we will increase lecture accessibility for international students, by providing access to important lectures online. 3.     Expansion of hybrid lectures: Hybrid lectures will help students, who have difficulty attending classes due to time constraints or physical distance, to actually attend lectures. By simultaneously providing online and offline classes, Signal will increase class accessibility, and provide an environment in which students can more easily choose the classes they want. 4.     Re-attempt to host a Subway restaurant on-campus: Signal will reattempt to bring in Subway so that the students’ right to choose diverse menus is protected. Subway is a brand that can provide a healthy and convenient meal to vegetarians and students who have specific dietary needs. Through this, we will provide support so that all students can choose diverse meals. A better tomorrow made togetherSignal will present long-term visions and clear objectives, rather than simple problem-solving. We will foster an environment in which all students—including international students—can participate freely, and create a sustainable student society. We will create a Student Council that develops sustainably, by systematically recording the Student Council’s projects and creating a framework in which its accomplishments and limitations are archived. Signal does not wait for possibilities. We will become a Student Council that makes its own potential. We will make a better future for SNU, together with our fellow students. Thank you.  The author is a senior at SNU’s Department of Naval Architecture and Ocean Engineering. This article was submitted by the author and translated by The SNU Quill’s editorial team. It reflects the author’s own views. –Ed.

Dear readers,For the past couple of years, I have been contemplating the space that The SNU Quill occupies within our largely Korean-speaking university—where our English publication fits into the broader community. It’s kind of funny, considering the sheer vastness of our campus; it took us over an hour just to install two magazine stands across the university grounds (which you can find in the Student Center and Doosan Humanities Hall, by the way).  Still, within the sprawling reaches of our campus, the reality remains: space is limited. When an ahjussi manspreads on the subway, we instinctively shrink back; each claim to space carries inherent consequences for others. Similarly, I found that I’ve been increasingly denying myself the right to fully occupy space. I began dressing in clothes that stand out less, afraid to intrude on others’ visual spaces. I step aside, soften my voice, slump my posture. But within these pages, I reclaim my rights to project my voice and declare my opinions. And this has always been the ethos of our magazine—to give a platform to those who might otherwise go unheard. With this realization, it became clear to me what The SNU Quill offers to our writers and readers alike. It is a space where we can collectively assert our presence.  The 81st edition’s theme is grounded on “Space. ” A new building stands where another once stood, some flourish while others are pushed further into the margins. The inevitable question arises: who gets to take up space, and who decides how it’s allocated? This question is now more pressing than ever. We invite you, dear readers, to join us as we explore the concept of space: how we define it, navigate it, and occupy it.  The cover, captured by our photographer Hye-won, serves as a striking frontispiece capturing this edition’s theme—geometric, energetic, and hopeful. We open SNU Society with an interview featuring Professor Vanessa Lim from the English department, who shares her journey navigating academia in Korea as a foreigner. In our Features section, we explore the challenges faced by youths, Kyopo, and prisoners in Korea, shedding light on the unique struggles they face. Our Arts and Culture section dives into the vibrant world of K-pop, public art, and the secrets behind the chocolate we consume. This edition also features an article by Kim Ha-jin, the first-prize winner of our magazine's very first English Column Writing Competition. His compelling account offers a firsthand look at his experience during Seoul's Pride Parade.  As we delve into our musings over space and identity, it is my hope that you find a sense of belonging within these pages. Afterall, the world calls to you—harsh and exciting—announcing your place in the family of things.  Sincerely,Min Yun-geun 

“Pain(Pain) from the high prices! Pain(Pain) because Monday arrived so quickly! Pain(Pain) because my friend is so well-off!”1 belted out ancomedian turned EDM DJ, clad in the robes of a Buddhist monk. It was a surreal yet the mostcaptivating moment amid the bustling atmosphere of the 2024 Seoul International Buddhism Expo, set upon the stage at SETEC (Seoul Trade Exhibition & Convention). The ceiling-shaking,electrifying beats and the euphoric symphony of synthesizers and heavy basslines immediately quickened our pulses, yet they could make anyone wonder if it was not an oxymoron. In this public venue, designed to entertain while promoting Buddhist beliefs and cultural values, a perplexing juxtaposition unfolds. How can a faith tradition that has long vehemently emphasized detachment for its soteriological path, denouncing anything that could lead to self-indulgence, allow such a sensory-stimulating and impulse-inducing form of music and art? How could anyone have imagined, at least in a traditional mindset of Buddhism, the sound of the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra being channeled through this vulgar, impious, and even blasphemous medium called EDM?Reception could vary depending on the respondent and how effectively the musician or organizer communicated their intended message to the audience. I think, regardless of the outcome, this perplexing scene and its associated intellectual curiosity unveil a much larger issue than merely the legitimacy or applicability of a musical genre for the Buddhist cause. In the public eye, this bizarre, eccentric, and mind-boggling presentation of Buddhism is often dismissed as mere entertainment, devoid of deeper reflection. Yet, to scholars like myself, heavily equipped with theoretical resources, this incident represents an encounter with “secularization” or “pluralization,” in a sociological sense, challenging or advancing conventional modes of religious communication. It raises the question of how willing each participant in the communication of religious teachings is to embrace and positively interpret a creative or, in some cases, norm-breaking medium. What is the nature of the problems I found in this musical performance that pleases the ears but puzzles the mind? Actually, it is my personal uneasiness derived from religious sensibilities. Like many others, not to mention my professional expertise in religion, I know, at least in principle, that the type of music, EDM, used on the stage is not suitable for the core message of Buddhism. Its particular features of hyper-stimulation and escalating tension can lead people into unwanted physical pleasure and indulgence through its sonic rollercoaster and infectious rhythms, controlling/manipulating the mind in ways contrary to Buddhist teachings. But does this matter? Who cares, and who can actually discern the alignment between faith and practice? It may be my overthinking. Nonetheless, I still think that serious issues can emerge and deepen especially when communication fails. Those who guard tradition and orthodox practice may resist, misunderstand, or outright reject innovation and creativity, fearing they compromise their faith. Similarly, communication can falter when the audience fails to grasp the genuine intention behind such creativity, focusing on “the finger” rather than “the moon,” as the famous Koan instructs. In other words, a positive reception demands an exquisite balance of understanding among all stakeholders, including the performer, the audience, and the religious host or authority—in this case, the Jogye Order of Korean Buddhism. Whatever motivations may be behind this venue, if all stakeholders are satisfied with the performance, I think it is good to go for a new stage: the stage where the faith community can further engage with and reach out to the unreached. The use of EDM music may seem like a small step at the moment, but it could be a sign of a significant leap in innovating the old, albeit ineffective, means of communicating Buddhism's central tenets on liberating humanity from suffering. Of course, this incident is not unprecedented. Throughout history, religious communities have grappled with innovations, either embracing, discouraging, or outright rejecting efforts to modernize the means of their spiritual messages. Gospel music, rooted in African American cultural and musical heritage, initially faced resistance within the mainstream church. Likewise, Contemporary Christian rock, metal, hip-hop, rap, and worship dance currently pose challenges for conservative communities. In Buddhism, early monastic codes prohibited monks and nuns from performing or indulging in music. Similarly, Sufi music has long faced criticism and sometimes violent attack from conservative Islamic communities, who deem it haram. The real question is not the medium of communication itself but the successful delivery of the intended message. Religious communities can select various outward means—whether music, film, literature, or sports—to promote and realize in history their ultimate Truth, much of which I believe to be summarized as “love” and “justice. ” Referring to the Buddhist concept of upaya (skillful means), I think that we can utilize any possible means if it helps alleviate humanity's suffering. Echoing the wisdom of the first century’s prominent Jewish Rabbi Hillel, the fundamental essence, or what we hold dear until death, is “love. ” All the rest—be it theology, doctrines, institutions, philosophy, or EDM—is just commentary!The author is a Professor at Seoul National University's Department of Religious Studies. --Ed.

Being queer means that you cannot be innocent. Lying is a part of being queer, a part of queer living. Sometimes this is fairly intuitive, for example, you could think of a person in a same-sex relationship who lies to their coworkers about their partner. They may fake being in a heterosexual relationship. This is a part of survival: the facade is used to keep a job, to stay alive. Thus, lying always accompanies queer living. But dishonesty is not only about survival. You may think, in the previous example, that if there comes a world where gay people are accepted, where homophobia is overthrown, we may drop the facade. You may think that homophobia, biphobia and transphobia is the sole reason for non-innocent queerness. You may even think that saying that queerness cannot be innocent is a part of this homophobia, biphobia and transphobia. On the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia(IDAHoT), we should focus on defeating such stigma, so that queer people may live an innocent life. But is that so?We lie because we are not understandable. Sometimes this lack of understanding is as simple as social stigma, an employer may discriminate based on your sexual orientation or gender, your family may not accept your queerness. Sometimes you keep quiet to be safe. But not being understandable goes beyond discrimination. A close person may not understand your queerness – for instance, let’s say you're nonbinary. Your friend may not understand what this means, no matter how honest you are about your gender. Living in a world made of men and woman, one may not be able to wrap their head around a concept beyond this. Even if you are honest about your gender, even if you explain that you are neither man nor woman. You may not be understandable – you are alien to this person. Is this wrong? Is this a part of queer-phobia, a kind of discrimination? Even if it is, you cannot just make people understand by saying it is ‘wrong’. To combat this, we need to think more about non-understandable lives and alienness. When we fight for rights, we often fight to become understandable. However, fighting to be understandable sometimes means that we leave people behind, people that are not understandable to us. The criticism against cross-dressers in the trans rights movement is a good example. Sometimes cis-identifying cross-dressers are blamed for what people say about trans people - it is the cross-dressers, not the trans people, that objectify women and fixate gender norms. Even putting aside the complex relationship between cross-dressing and transness, this way of ‘moving the blame’ shows that trying to become understandable leaves non-understandable life behind. The problem is, there will always be people living non-understandable life. It is not only the cross-dressers, the polyamorists, the sadomasochists, or other queer people not quite accepted by the LGBTQ community. Being understandable is relative. Just as queer people are not understandable to some, incel men and TERFs may not be understandable to people in the queer rights movement. This non-understanding makes for unknown waters. Regions outside the LGBTQ community, or cross-sections between mutually non-understandable communities. These waters are as dark as the ocean floor to us, thus we think of them as dead. However, the ocean floor is teeming with life. This life is alien to us. Creatures like basket stars, sea pigs and sea spiders may seem so strange, not at all what we expect creatures to be. They are non-understandable, but only to us. They are only alien to the world where we live, as they have adapted to conditions elsewhere. Even the seemingly unlivable deep sea has life. Unknown waters always contain life – queer, non-innocent living, that may seem so alien but has evolved in its own way. I do not intend to say that we must understand everything, that we should be understanding about queer-phobic people as well as queer people. On the contrary, I say we can never understand everything. We cannot conquer the whole universe; there will always be unknown waters. Thus we should not stop at fighting to become understandable, to become non-alien, to become innocent. We also need to stand for non-understandable, non-innocent life. Even if other life seems outright wrong – as non-understandable people live through wrongdoings, just as LGBTQ people lie to survive. We have to acknowledge what we cannot understand, because we are also non-understandable. On the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia(IDAHoT), we should not only remember homosexual, bisexual and transgender life, but also keep unknown waters in mind. The first step to making queer life livable is acknowledging it and not leaving it behind. Remember that there is life there - no matter how dark the waters seem. The author is a graduate student at Seoul National University's College of Natural Sciences and a member of SNU's LGBTQ community (Queer in SNU: QIS). --Ed.