It's funny to me, if I think about it, that I have spent nearly my whole life involved in education – over twenty years out of nearly twenty-eight– and that I have measured my life in academic years rather than calendar years for as long as I can remember. Another bizarre truth is that the academic year 2006-2007 marks the longest period of time that I have been away from the Republic of Korea (ROK) since 2002. This has been a source of great relief for many of you that know me who were beginning to suspect that I might never return from my adventures abroad. I’m certain that the same lot of you were also surprised to see that I returned to the United States without having gotten hastily married in some exotic location.

These concerns were not entirely without reason. Although teaching English as a foreign language never struck me as a long-term career option, it was personally rewarding in ways and the perks were incredible: I was earning more money than I could spend, traveling the world, and celebrating life with a motley rabble of fun-loving and open-minded friends. In truth, my hedonistic lifestyle was getting increasingly harder to abandon and I had met someone special. Still, with the twilight years of my twenties approaching and possessing a long-unfulfilled desire to apply my talents, whatever they might be, toward a career of greater social action, further formal education was something for which I had to aim. Furthermore, I knew from experience that I would be greatly dissatisfied with leaving Seoul for the American routine absent a larger, career-oriented purpose.

In retrospect, I now see being admitted to and enrolling in American University’s School of International Service as another embodiment of my personal maxim that fortune doesn’t always simply happen to people, it also happens by people. In other words, to some extent you make your own luck. Thus, I feel lucky to have been given the opportunity to make this career change, but also confident that I’ve earned it. My failure to make law school a reality in 2001 was partly due to circumstances beyond my control, but mostly due to situations that I created, or rather, failed to create. In the end, that turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Through work overseas I put myself on more stable financial ground and realized I had no desire to be an attorney. Given my international experience, interest in politics, and proclivities toward other languages, the Master’s degree in International Affairs for which I am now a candidate seems much more appropriate.

Living and studying in Washington, DC has consequently been a wonderful experience for me because it has served as an engaging environment in which to become assimilated back into American life and a constant extension of the classroom. For me, this has particular salience because studying international relations, formal political theory, and economics has been a marked gear shift from my undergraduate studies in English literature. I have gotten a lot of mileage out of my BA, it turns out, both in my former life as a teacher and now from the reading, writing, and analytical skills it brings me as a graduate student. However, most of my graduate school colleagues come from an educational background more tailored to discussions of such things as Keynesian economic theory, J-curves, or the history of post-communist reform in Eastern Europe. I’ve adapted fairly quickly, though, in no small measure because of the never-ending list of conferences, Congressional hearings, presentations, and politically infused happy-hours open to the public here in DC. As some of you may recall, I made my first brief appearance on C-SPAN within my first month living in “The District” just simply by attending a press conference for Assistant Secretary of State Christopher Hill.

In fact, one of my lamest excuses for not communicating better with others this year is the distractingly significant nature of this town. Studying politics and global issues in Washington is something akin to being a bat boy in the Big Leagues; you get so caught up in the awesome spectacle that surrounds you, it's sometimes easy to forget what a small part you play in it. Still, it’s hard not to start feeling increasingly important when your regular conversations are about nuclear disarmament or the need for more international cooperation on malaria prevention. I’ve sat in on hearings on Capitol Hill, and nearly bumped into several Senators, news anchors and entertainers. While interning this summer at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), a prominent think tank, I’ve engaged in discussions with ambassadors, diplomats, and scholars from all over the globe. I’ve recently helped write a book chapter on Hong Kong for CSIS Senior Fellow Derek Mitchell . If all of this sounds unabashedly boastful, it is so for a reason.

I’m trying to make the point that while I’ve been a part of incredible events and met people who affect global problems on a systemic level, such things can be distracting and can end up merely as exercises in ego inflation. People in The District drop famous names in conversation and abuse the benefits of social contacts – i.e. “networking” – like nowhere I’ve ever lived. In this vein, I recently commented to a friend that there seemed to me several similarities between Hollywood and DC: in addition to name dropping and shallow relationships, DC and Hollywood are both full of young people aspiring to achieve fame in a very limited and peculiar field of employment. In response to my observations, my friend quipped, “Sure. Haven’t you ever heard before that DC is really just Hollywood for ugly people?” While funny and containing a reductionist truth, this argument ignores many people in Washington that work long hours and receive little pay or recognition for trying to improve the lives of others in the United States and all over the world. DC is an impassioned city where, if you can overcome partisan bickering and greed, people are trying hard to resolve important issues. To that effect, if my communication with friends and family slackens, it will hopefully be for reasons of selflessness, rather than self-promotion.

Having said that, I’m sure many of you wonder what exactly I plan to do with my degree, if it's not to become a self-aggrandizing politician. Point of fact, I have been asked that question recently too often to count. To answer in a general sense, I would most like to work on resolving critical international issues as a civil servant with the US government. Making use of my Korean language experience, and my continuing education in East Asia and international relations, I am particularly interested in contributing to the diplomatic resolution of the North Korea nuclear weapons crisis. The Department of Energy has several programs focused on nuclear weapons non-proliferation with which I would love to work, and I am also interested in work with the Department of State. Additionally, I’ve enjoyed working with a think tank where experts convene to work out sensible, moderated, and innovative solutions to difficult policy dilemmas. I am also open to other opportunities in various sectors and I’ve felt encouraged thus far by the flexibility that my degree appears to give me in that regard.

Nevertheless, I’ve had one of the most rewarding and educational years of my life in DC and at AU. I’m excited to refine my research and expertise at Korea University’s Graduate School of International Studies this fall, and again at AU in the spring as I prepare to graduate. I do occasionally have reservations about the educational choice I’ve made. I have large student loan payments looming in the distance and there is no direct connection between my course of study and a specific field of employment, as there is for law or medical schools and their respective professions. Still, my degree puts me closer to making a meaningful contribution to larger issues I care about. Put simply, it’s an investment I believe in. After all, if there is one thing in my life that has always received priority in terms of time and money, it’s education.