Alumni Reminiscences

Alumni
Reminiscences:
Reflections on 60 years of
the Fulbright program in Korea
American Alumni
Alumni Reminiscences: Reflections on 60 years of the Fulbright program in Korea
Contents
FOREWORD ················································· 4
Jai Ok Shim Sung-Wook Jung
Senior Lecturer/Researchers ························ 9

Barbara Mintz· 11 Alvin Magid· 49
Roy U. T. Kim· 13 Young-Key Kim-Renaud· 51
Edward John Shultz· 18 James Perkins· 53
Donald N. Clark· 21 Richard D. Weis· 56
Barbara Grinell· 25 Robert C. Morgan· 59
Steven R. Brown· 27 Maureen Fleming· 61
Komelia Hongja Okim· 29 Henry B. Sirgo· 64
James F. Larson· 34 George Katsiaficas· 66
Donald R. Ranish· 36 Danny Wedding· 67
Henry Sanoff· 38 Helena Meyer-Knapp· 68
Charles K. Armstrong· 40 Seung-chan Choi· 72
Donald L. Baker· 42 Sugwon Kang· 74
Jonathan C. Kramer· 45 Robert D. Grotjohn· 76
Michael Devine· 47 Soojin Kim Ritterling· 78
Junior Researchers (U.S. Student) ················ 81

David McCann· 83 Elizabeth Underwood· 95
Edward J. Baker· 85 Kate Hers· 97
Laurel Kendall· 89 Deberniere Torrey· 99
Carter Eckert· 91 Franklin Rausch· 102
Il Young “William” Byun· 93 Katherine Lee· 103
English Teaching Assistants (ETA) ·············· 107

Fred Yeon· 109 Kenny Loui· 125
Charles B. Chang· 110 Jane Lee· 129
JohnDre Jennings· 111 Brian Wylie· 132
Aimee Jachym· 113 David Libardoni· 134
Alexis Stratton· 116 Elizabeth So· 136
Sara Shin· 118 Carolyn Straub· 138
Michelle Lee Jones· 120 Sarabeth Craig· 140
Laura Tschop· 122 Sarah Slagle· 143
Nicole Guarino· 123 Sarah Walker· 145
Laura Johnson· 124 Rachael Maureen Williams· 147
Short Grant Program Participants ··············· 149

Gary J. Kaasa· 151 Kyong-Mal Kim· 154
F O R E W O R D
American Alumni Reminiscences
Since the beginnings of the Fulbright program in Korea, over 3,800 extraordinary grant
recipients have journeyed to the other side of the world under the flag of Fulbright.
Whether they began their Fulbright grant early in their careers or after establishing
themselves as well-respected academics and professionals, each one of them has left
an indelible mark on their respective fields. In each case, the time they spent in Korea
has been invaluable to their personal and professional development.
Korea’s Fulbrighters span every field, work in every sector of public service and
private enterprise, and can be found here in Korea, in the U.S., and around the world.
Among those who have experienced the Fulbright program are government officials,
ambassadors, university presidents, professors, authors, artists, justices, scientists, and
educators.
The list goes on, and just as Fulbright has played a key role in the educational and
professional development of many grant recipients, American Fulbrighters in turn
have had a profound impact on the development of Korea, and particularly upon the
development of Korean education in the aftermath of the Korean War.
The occasion of the sixtieth anniversary of the Fulbright program in Korea presents
us with the perfect opportunity to encourage this diverse group of alumni to reflect upon
their time in Korea, and how it has changed their lives.
Their stories, collected and presented together here for the first time, are a collage of
individual moments, experiences, impressions and memories that have helped to create
the sixty-year history of this program.
I am extremely proud of the achievements of our American alumni, and pleased that
their memories of Korea and their reflections on Fulbright may now be found in one
publication. This book, together with our collection of reflections of Korean alumni, shows
the more personal side of the Fulbright experience and gives a new perspective on the
people behind Fulbright Korea’s achievements. It is this side of the Fulbright Program―
each grantee’s individual journey towards international understanding―that rests at the
heart of the program and that we seek to build upon each year. For as far as we have
come, we know that there is still much more that we can accomplish.
It is my hope that through these reflections readers will be inspired, as I have been,
by the achievements of our past alumni, and feel a sense of promise for the future of the
Fulbright program. Given the outstanding legacy that our alumni have created, one can
only imagine what the future of Fulbright Korea may hold.
Jai Ok Shim
Executive Director
Korean-American Educational Commission
F O R E W O R D
American Alumni Reminiscences
As an editor of the Korean Fulbright Alumni

Reminiscences to be published in Korean as a
companion to this volume, I was unexpectedly
asked to write a foreword. I read through the
following stories of the U. S. Fulbright alumni and
felt them shine like stars in the sky. That is, any
introductory add-on remarks to shed more light on
them may hinder, rather than enhance, readers’
natural understandings.
Some stories look like the morning star, and others like the evening star, depending on
the contexts of the experiences they describe and the presentation styles. Some are short,
and others rather long; some are faithful reports of what went on during stays in Korea,
and others poetic drawings of the unexpected; some highlight professional achievements,
and others personal experiences, all of which were made possible thanks to the Fulbright
program. However, we might be better off after all without reducing the varieties to one
and the same object of understanding. Probably, we had better leave them as various as
they are in the eyes of viewers, in order not to lose anything in conveying what has been
achieved by a bright idea. As a whole, the stories you will read in the following pages
convinced me that the idea would continue to branch into many more wonderful stories as
it has done for the past 60 years.
Like stars in the sky, the reminiscences of the U. S. alumni form at once both beautiful
and meaningful constellations in the minds of readers. I do not know what each one of you
will make out of them, though I am anticipating something wonderful. The following stories
are thus incomplete until you grasp them, and I hope every one of you will enjoy reading
them.
Dr. Sung-Wook Jung

1996 Alumnus of the Fulbright Program in Korea
Planning Director of the Korea Fulbright Alumni Association
Alumni
Reminiscences:
American Alumni
Senior Lecturer/Researchers
Junior Researchers (U.S. Student)
English Teaching Assistants (ETA)
Short Grant Program Participants

Alumni Reminiscences:
American Alumni
[ Senior Lecturer/Researchers ]
Barbara Mintz
Grant Profile Host Field
1962: Senior Lecturer Pusan National University TESOL
1963: Senior Lecturer Pusan National University TESOL
1967: Senior Lecturer Sungkyunkwan University TESOL
When my husband Grafton and I arrived in Pusan in 1962, we really didn’t know
what to expect other than students to teach at Pusan National University. I was
assigned to the Business Department, Grafton to the English Department. As
one of very few women on the faculty, I later learned that the overwhelmingly
male faculty didn’t quite know what to do―to include me in the university and
departmental parties, for instance? Besides being female, I was a bit young (in my
twenties) to be a university professor!
I had only young men as students, another interesting departure from my
classes at Ohio State. The students were eager and helpful. They always wanted to
talk (practice their English) before and after class, carrying my books as we went,
and once, as I was writing on the chalkboard with my back to the class, I was a
bit startled to realize that one of my helpful students was vigorously brushing the
back of my skirt, which had gotten covered with chalk dust! I also learned that
practicing the minimal pair see/she (to work on pronouncing the word city) was not
quite the thing to do in class.
Besides two years in Pusan (we renewed for a second Fulbright year), I was
the recipient of a second Fulbright later in the 60s after we had moved to Seoul
and I had made a detour to work as Language Specialist for the 8th US Army at
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Yongsan. Beside teaching various classes at Yonsei University and Sungkyunkwan

University, I also functioned as Fulbright liaison to the newly arrived Peace Corps
in 1966. I observed with interest the moderate chaos as staff and PCVs set up the
office and later participated in training workshops for the PCV English language
teachers. I vividly remember one winter workshop for K-1 that was held in a small
Catholic college near Chuncheon―yep, up there in the wintry weather. The sisters
at the time were having a financial crunch―a bit nippy it was in the dorm and in
the classroom!
What can I say about Korea itself―its people, its culture, its wonderful hangeul
writing system? It says something that we stayed for more than 30 years as expat
residents with good friends stemming from the Fulbright years, some of whom I
continue to see and correspond with. The Korea experience also made it possible
for me to expand my professional work in Asia, in Europe, and now back in the
United States, where I continue teaching and am engaged in seeing America at
last!
Those of us fortunate enough to be Fulbright grantees in Korea during the
years it was going through tremendous change learned far more than we could
ever hope to teach thanks to our Korean students, colleagues, and friends, and
thanks to the Fulbright program!
12 | Alumni Reminiscences
Roy U. T. Kim
1971: Senior Lecturer East-Asian Research Center International Relations
at Korea University
Reflections on My Fulbright
Topic: Observing the armistice agreement in progress
Preparation
I carefully prepared for this opportunity. Drexel University in Philadelphia

hired me in 1969. I got promoted to associate professor with tenure. I was very
active in my academic research and publications. I presented a lengthy paper on
“The Origins of the 38th Parallel in Korea” at the Association of Asian Studies in
Chicago in 1971. I met the late Ham Byung-choon (함병춘). He liked my paper and
encouraged me to visit Korea as a Fulbright Scholar.
In the fall semester of 1971, I was appointed as a “scholar-diplomat” at the
Korea Desk of the US State Department. With a clearance, I was able to review and
evaluate the confidential files on the 1951-53 armistice negotiations. The files were
well kept and in detail, but there was no major new information. One possible
exception was US Navy Admiral Turner Joy’s personal observation of his North
Korean counterpart Gen. Nam Il (남일), noting his clear logic and arguments.
After evaluating all the files, I was all the more eager to actually observe the
management of the armistice at Panmunjeom (판문점).
I had an unusual encounter at the US Department of State. The director of the
Policy Planning Council wanted to have coffee with me. I did not know much
about him, but he knew much about me. He congratulated me on getting a Senior
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Fulbright Research Fellowship. He said, “You will encounter a totally unexpected

event in Korea between the two Koreas.” I replied that nothing was likely to
happen in my lifetime. He suggested a bet, and I agreed. I lost my bet when the
two Koreas made the historic North-South Announcement on July 4, 1972.
Major Activities
Once I was comfortably settled at the Fulbright House behind Seoul City Hall, I
was academically affiliated with the East-Asian Research Center (아연) at Korea
University, with a big office next to that of its Director, Kim Joon-yup (김준엽).
I seldom used the office, while I did enjoy getting to know Prof. Kim and his
colleagues.
My primary activities were at the 8th US Army Base at Yongsan, the US
Embassy, and Panmunjeom. In fact, the US Embassy, and not Korea University,
issued me my ID. I spent most of my time at the negotiating table at Panmunjeom.
There were two levels of interactions, first at the Colonel level and second at
the Two-Star level. I used to be picked up at my Fulbright apartment by a US
limousine whenever there were meetings. I flew out to Munsam-ri (문산리) on a
helicopter and then drove to Panmunjeom across the famous bridge.
My basic function was simply to observe the interactions in the Panmunjeom
conference room at the two levels. I would simply sit right next to the US military
officers and take notes, including translations. I was not identified at all.
Personal Observations
Interactions, most of the time, were peaceful and businesslike, without too
much propaganda. Second, the negotiations at the lower levels were much more
productive, without the time-consuming translations. North Korean military
representatives were able to conduct negotiations in English. Finally, I wondered
why the UNC side was completely dominated by the USA; the ROK government
was completely ignored and absent. This was probably because Seoul, under
President Rhee Syng-man (이승만), was opposed to signing the 1953 Armistice
Agreement. I felt that this gave an unnecessary advantage to the North Korean
side, which completely dominated the negotiations at Panmunjeom.
Important People I Met
I met and became close with two North Korean specialists at Korea University,
Kim Chang-soon (김창순) and Kim Nam-sik (김남식). Other Koreans I met and
interacted with frequently in Seoul and around Panmunjeom were Kang In-
duck (강인덕), Chung Sae-young (정세용), and Lee Bum-suck (이범석). These three
ROKG officials were actively engaged behind the scenes with North Koreans
starting in the early spring of 1972. There were several Americans I interacted with
frequently, including US General John Wickham (Commander of the US Forces in
Korea), Philip Habib (US Ambassador), and Ed Wagner (Fulbright Director).
While I took advantage of the Yongsan Military Base (the library, the tennis
courts, and the PX for shopping), I disliked the base personally. The Japanese and
Chinese had used the same base previously. I told Gen. Wickham about this. He
did not know its historic background.
Surprise North-South Announcement, July 4, 1972
At 10 a.m. on July 4, Pyongyang and Seoul announced three national principles

of national unification ( samdae wonchik, 삼대원칙 ) . First, both sides would
reconcile differences peacefully; second, they would respect Korean nationalism;
and finally, they would not rely on outsiders. Both Koreas conducted secret
negotiations utilizing their intelligence networks. Kim Il-sung and Park Chung-
hee utilized the prevailing mood of reconciliation between Beijing and Washington
at that time. I was at Panmunjeom when the announcement was made. On that
beautiful Saturday afternoon, there was a major celebration of the occasion. Both
Koreas prepared all kinds of traditional foods, and all of the media were fully
represented. Several hundred came from both sides. People were dancing around.
It was an unreal celebration, as though the DMZ would be removed immediately
and the two Koreas would be reunited. Both sides came prepared to celebrate the
occasion with gifts to present to the other side. At the end of the celebration, the
North presented the Southern representatives with ginseng wine (insamju, 인삼주),
cigarettes, and other gifts.
I got on a bus to go back to Seoul. After we passed the bridge, South Korean
intelligence agents took away anything the Northerners had presented. I wanted
to keep my gifts, and I ended up arguing with the KCIA agents. They said it was
15
against South Korean law for anybody to possess any North Korean products.
Finally, I had to show my ID issued by the US Embassy.
I realized by the time I returned to my Fulbright apartment that the July 4
excitement had not lasted even 24 hours. Kim Jong-pil (김종필) announced on the
evening news that the US was not an “outside force,” negating one of the three
basic agreements. In the evening, I had an unusual dinner with Amb. Habib. He
was fully engaged in all the activities at Panmunjeom and between Pyongyang and
Seoul through Washington. He told me that Henry Kissinger felt that the North-
South reconciliation process was getting ahead of Sino-American reconciliation.
Then I realized that the North-South efforts were part of Kissinger’s scheme of
things beyond the domain of both Koreas. Somebody should investigate the whole
story on the July 4 episode―who initiated it and how, and why it failed.
Terribly disappointed I was, to say the least. I returned to Korea University
to say goodbye to Prof. Kim Joon-yup. He offered me a teaching position, but I
declined the offer.
But my own task of observing the Armistice Agreement at Panmunjeom proved to
be much more involved than I had expected in my academic life. Even today, the
Armistice Agreement remains about the same as it was initially in 1953. Of course,
it has become much more complicated, as North Korea now possesses nuclear
weapons. I decided to return to the US to continue my academic interests at Drexel
University.
Fast Forward
I remain interested in investigating negotiations. Another topic I was curious about

was the US-Soviet commission over Korea during 1945-48. American and Soviet
military representatives used to meet at Deoksugung Palace (덕수궁) in Seoul. In
hindsight, the failed joint commission appears to have facilitated the establishment
of separate regimes in Seoul and Pyongyang, thus making the Korean partition
permanent. I presented my basic research at the Paris International Oriental
Convention in 1973. While in Paris, I met the academician Georgii Kim and North
Korea’s Hŏ Jong (허종). Kim told me that there were additional documents in
Moscow. He then invited me to the USSR. I visited Moscow for the first time in
1979 at the invitation of academician Yevgeny Primakov, the head of the Oriental
Institute. After that, my academic interest turned toward US-Soviet negotiations,
and particularly strategic nuclear arms control, known simply as SALT. Since then,
I have visited the USSR about a dozen times as part of US official delegations. My
Russian study proved very useful.
Primakov invited me to attend the Khabarovsk Conference in the summer of
1979. He introduced me to Dr. Kim Dal-hyŏn (김달현) from the DPKR. Kim invited
me to North Korea for three weeks in the summer of 1979. This was my first return
visit to Pyongyang―my hometown. It was indeed an unforgettable trip. I have
visited North Korea about a dozen times since then.
I started all of these academic trips with my initial Fulbright experience in
Korea in 1972. For this, I am ever grateful for the Fulbright opportunity.
17
Edward John Shultz

1973: Junior Researcher Sogang University Korean History
1982: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Hanyang University Korean History
2005: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Sogang University Korean History
Fulbright
Few people can claim to be the beneficiary of three different Fulbright awards. I
consider myself and my family extremely lucky, having received Fulbrights in
1973-74, 1982-83, and 2005-06. Over some thirty-plus years, I have watched Korea
change dramatically, and with it the Fulbright program. With each Fulbright grant,
there was a new location for the Fulbright office: first at Seosomun, then at Garden
Tower, and finally at its present location in Yeomni-dong, Mapo. Each time there
was a different director, from the legendary Ed Wright to the ever-enthusiastic
Mark Peterson, and now to our first Korean director, Shim Jai-ok. Each director
maintained a commitment to the Fulbright mission and to enhancing ties between
Korea and the United States.
As a PhD candidate, I moved with my wife into Fulbright House in the fall of
1973, with a grant to carry out dissertation research on Goryeo history at Sogang
University. Little did I realize that during that one year, I would not only renew old
acquaintances with former fellow Peace Corps volunteers and East-West Center
grantees, but meet and work with others as well, all of whom have remained close
friends to this day. In part because of Fulbright support, I have had the privilege
of growing up with a whole generation of scholars of Korea, both Korean and
American. To this day, we continue to meet, study, and learn together. Living
in Korea in the early 1970s posed all sorts of challenges, from watching soldiers
march out to check student unrest, to racing home before the midnight curfew,
to traversing town and country on crowded buses. Despite the travails, even a
casual observer could not but be impressed by the Korean spirit and the Korean
commitment to build their country. The “Miracle on the Han” that we enjoy today
was predictable and is a testament to the tenacity, the diligence, and the sheer will
of the people of Korea.
When my family returned to Korea
in 1982 on our second Fulbright, we had
two frisky boys, ages five and seven, to
accompany us. Now I was an associate
professor teaching at Hanyang University
and completing research on Goryeo’s 12th
century. Returning as a mid-level professor
carried with it new experiences and
responsibilities. The pleasure of teaching
Korean history to Korean youth in the
Korean language is an experience I value
to this day. And the fact that a Korean
university would allow and trust a foreigner
to present their history to their youth is a
statement that exemplifies the confidence
▲ Sorak Mountains, family shot (1982)
that Koreans had and have in confronting
the world. Returning to Korea after nearly a decade’s absence also afforded me
an excellent chance to catch up on Korea’s staggering progress over the previous
ten years. I was able to renew ties with colleagues and gain a firmer foundation
in Korean history that has benefited my research. But it was not I alone who was
positively impacted by the Fulbright experience. I would be remiss not to mention
how my wife and our sons thrived in Korea, creating family memories we still
treasure.
Although in the ensuing years I made a number of trips back to Korea, it was
not until 2005 that I was honored with my third Fulbright award. This time I
19
taught at Sogang University, where I had been a student in the 1970s both as an
East-West Center grantee and as a pre-doctoral scholar on my first Fulbright. As at
Hanyang University, I was again permitted to teach Korean history in Korean to
Korean students. Many of my colleagues were the very same people I had studied
with thirty years earlier, and some are ready to retire.
Through these three Fulbright grants, I witnessed and experienced dramatic
changes in Korea. The study of Korea’s history has advanced immeasurably just as
its economy surged from “underdeveloped” status to a global power. Korea moved
from martial law to one of the most
democratic societies in Asia, from steam
locomotives to the KTX, from crowded
buses to air-conditioned subways, and
from exporting wigs and sweaters
to selling cars and dramas around
the world. When Korean students
take field trips today, it is not only to
Gyeongju but also to China or Japan.
Yet despite these staggering changes,
Korean good will and the Korean
commitment to fill a day with 28 hours
of activity have not diminished. It is
this indomitable Korean character that
explains Korea’s successes of the past
and the future. It has been a privilege
to be part of the Fulbright family and
to live and grow with dynamic Korea. ▲ Hanyang University field trip (1973)
Donald N. Clark
1975: Junior Researcher Korea University Korean History
1983: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Yonsei University Korean History
1989: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Yonsei University Korean History
Remembering Life in Fulbright House
Korea Fulbrighters of a certain age will remember Dr. Edward Wright, Korean-
American Educational Commission (KAEC) Executive Director and the program’s
leader in the 1970s. In those days, the Fulbright program leased most of a ten-
story apartment building in Sunhwa-dong, near Seosomun in downtown Seoul.
The first three floors were used by the building’s owner, but the rest were used by
Fulbright. Grantees got their mail, read newspapers, traded paperback books, and
received visitors in the KAEC grantees’ library/lounge on the fourth floor, which
also housed the KAEC offices. My generation of American scholars of Korean
Studies, many of us having discovered Korea during Peace Corps service in the
previous decade, drafted our doctoral dissertations in the fifth floor work room.
The sixth through ninth floors were for grantees’ apartments.
The top floor was a penthouse reserved for Ed Wright himself, used partly as
a sometime dwelling―for he had another apartment elsewhere―and partly as a
place to store his extraordinary collection of Korean furniture. It was a privilege
to be invited to this place at the pinnacle of the building. Wright hosted early
versions of the Fulbright Forum here, and from time to time we would listen to
21
distinguished scholars, and occasionally peers, delivering research reports, events

that always ended with the consumption of moderate amounts of alcohol and
the passing around of exquisite hors d’oeuvres made by Wright’s housekeeper―
morsels of rare quality for Seoul in the seventies. Indeed, scholars from all over the
city would converge on the tenth floor of Fulbright House on these occasions for
culinary as well as intellectual nourishment.
Residents of Fulbright House were well aware of our good fortune in having
furnished habitations waiting for us when we arrived in the city after enduring
the rigors of travel from America and passage through the inspections and
interrogations of Yushin-era Kimpo Airport. The building was located a short walk
from City Hall Plaza, easily accessible to Seoul’s first subway line, a few paces
from a steady taxi supply, and near a stop on the #8 bus line that seemed to go to
most places of any consequence in the city. Up the alley beyond Fulbright House
was the old Seoul Union, the city’s erstwhile expat swimming and tennis club.
(A unique feature of the Seoul Union was a pair of bowling lanes transplanted
from Unsan, in North Korea, where they had been in the gold miners’ staff club
of the Oriental Consolidated Mining Company before the OCMC was forced out
of business by the Japanese in 1939.) A stone’s throw away in the other direction
was a military police building, where one imagined, and occasionally even heard,
dark happenings under the Park dictatorship. And next to Fulbright House, at
about the level of the eighth floor, was the steeple of a Protestant church whose
bells went off at 4 a.m. every day and multiple times on Sundays. In other words,
Fulbright House seemed to be in the middle of everything, and to live there was to
experience the fast-changing urban landscape on many levels at once.
Fulbright House had many conveniences, including an elevator that worked
most of the time. The scale of the building was such, and we were young enough,
that if the elevator was out of order we could still get up to wherever we were
going. However, it did have one notable design flaw. The building’s oil tank
was installed on top of the concrete cistern in the sub-basement that was part of
the water intake. In time, spilled oil leached into the cistern, enough to give the
running water in Fulbright House, whether hot or cold, an oily sheen. Indeed, you
could run a dandy bathtub full of hot water, but it would have a diesel smell and a
yellowish cast―just barely acceptable for bathing.
American civilians in early 1970s Korea still sorted themselves out by access
to US Embassy and military facilities. Most desirable were PX privileges, access
to Army shopping on the base at Yongsan, which might also be accompanied by
commissary privileges―access to the very good grocery store on South Post―and
Army Post Office (APO) privileges for cheap, fast, and reliable mail back to the
US. Access to these “privileges” was at the discretion of the Commanding General
of US Forces Korea, and by the 1970s most non-governmental American civilians
such as missionaries and businesspeople had long since lost their “privileges” and
been left to sink or swim living “on the economy.” “The economy” was the Korean
market, including the black market, which still offered much that had not long
before been on the shelves of the aforementioned PX and/or commissary. American
expats used to argue the right or wrong of buying former PX supplies on the black
market, since their availability invariably involved some form of crime, or at least
rule-bending, ultimately at the expense of the US taxpayer.
To the everlasting gratitude of his grantees, Director Ed Wright arranged
through the Embassy for us to avoid the petty crime of the black market by
getting us privileges in the PX and commissary at Yongsan, plus the Embassy’s
own commissary on Compound Two in Anguk-dong. To get us to the Embassy
commissary, Wright even provided transportation in a large orange-colored Dodge
van, one of the official KAEC vehicles. Wright kept this van to transport fragile
items such as his Korean furniture collection, which meant padding the interior
with the best available material, which turned out to be orange shag carpeting
on the floor and walls. In the orange shag-rug comfort of this van on Saturday
mornings at 10 a.m., the KAEC driver would take us shopping on Compound Two
to stock up on coffee, frozen chicken, canned items, and ridiculously cheap tax-
free liquor. Part of the commissary ritual was passing through an inspection upon
checkout, at which an ancient embassy employee would painstakingly inspect our
cash register tape against the actual items we were taking, making sure we didn’t
exceed our ration of coffee or liquor―never actually blocking a sale, but leaving us
feeling like we were operating right on the thin edge of the law. Once safely back
in the van with our booty, back we would go to Sunhwa-dong, sitting cross-legged
on the orange shag carpet.
At the end of the 1970s, we Fulbrighters lost our army privileges, though
Embassy commissary privileges continued for a while longer. From the vantage
point of the 2010s, it is hard to see how these luxurious arrangements could have
23
seemed like anything more than ugly American-ness to the KAEC staff and others
around us at the time. But if we graduate students felt pangs of conscience about
having access to tax-free Embassy scotch, I don’t recall it. Today, the Korean
market certainly offers every kind of consumer comfort, and nobody much
feels the lack of access to taxpayer-subsidized goodies, whether legal or illegal.
Korea even makes excellent vans: if you want an orange one, you can even get it
customized with a matching shag rug lining.
The old Fulbright House looks small today, but in those days it seemed tall, and
it had great views of downtown Seoul. Across the Seosomun-dong main drag was
the JoongAng Ilbo, and beyond it Namsan, with the newly-built Namsan Tower.
From the north windows you could see the Blue House, with its barrage balloons
and anti-aircraft emplacements atop buildings to enforce the no-fly zone over
the center of the city. Deoksugung Palace was visible beyond Paichai Boys’ High
School (cf. the present Russian Embassy site), and one never tired of the majestic
Bukhan Range sheltering the city on its northern side.
After Fulbright House, KAEC moved to the Garden Tower near the front gate
of Changdeokgung Palace, then again to a building next to the Cheondogyo
headquarters temple (Su’un Hoegwan), and much later to the present site near
Gongdeok Station. The cement tower formerly known as Fulbright House still
stands, but it looks forlorn and far outclassed in size and style by everything
around it―a metaphor for its heyday, still deserving of a grateful backward
glance.
Barbara Grinell
1978: Senior Lecturer Kookmin University Painting
Christmas in Korea
Early this morning, the sound of the day’s first church bells rang with a singular
clarity―unlike the muffled tones that swim through the summer heat. It is in
this cold crystal winter air that light and sound and scent solidify back into
themselves―metal becomes rigid, fruit bright, the sky a broad, clear open cavern
blowing sharply from its depth and, like a polished mirror, picturing beneath it
one flickering reflection: life on Earth.
Slowly, the cool light of dawn filters through the delicate green-black of the
great willow tree that stands, the screen of a withered bouquet, at the end of my
street. I pass this tree each day as I walk the hilly roads toward my daily business.
In these brief minutes I imagine this land slowly sloping away from some Siberian
origin―drawing with it the thick steam that loosens with the sun and whose
vapor tongues twist in a silent mist, subduing the dwarfed movements of the city.
Softly, a sturdy country woman eases by me with a large cloth-wrapped parcel on
her head. Behind her bends an old man, in a Russian fur hat and Korean coat, cane
in hand―his thin, browned body led on, perhaps, by memories of small lamp-
warmed rooms where, at one time, he could take pleasure and forget.
By midday, narrow alleys have burst from their sleepy lethargy into sweet oily
bakeries and spicy soup houses. The once half-empty drinking houses are now
perfumed dens of smoke and sweat and coarse conversation. And there is new
25
excitement at the market, brought by the high tide of kimchi cabbage and radish,
which have engulfed the stalls in one great sea of green. Here women navigate the
footpaths―firm, pink-cheeked agile bodies generating gaiety and pride―dancing
to a deep sense of order and joy―a feminine Christmas celebrating its advent.
Above the market, the first snow of the year has begun to fall from a wide, low,
ice-laden cloud, which has congealed in readiness for a long winter. I am gently
told that this is “flower petal” snow, which lifts the ground in a wild flurry of
blurring white. The snow is brief and hasn’t kept me from my errands. In its wake,
I climb my usual bus, push to the front where there is sometimes more room, and
stand, prepared for the long, shaky ride. I bend to look out the window but can
see only the mechanical breath that has streaked the frosted panes―and through
this dizzy pattern, time and light are reduced to rhythm and color, and the city,
in a moment of fleeting pleasure, disappears behind the warmth and distance of a
spontaneous shadow play.
It is dusk by the time I reach the train station near my home. From the cross
bridge, my eye automatically follows the low line of the heavy tracks as they dart
beneath piping puffs of smoke and inscrutable black shadow, and is caught by
the wink of electric light, suspended, lantern-like, on the hillside, by an invisible
puppeteer. Chilled, I stop to linger by the yeontan seller’s stall, where the live fire
of the boiling charcoal brings relief. And maybe, one evening, I will pause by one
of those tent stalls, draped with striped flags as in a medieval pageant, aglow
with burning tallow and cooking sausage, and be a knight-errant, supping on five
minutes of fellowship, away from a life of willful labor.
On my street, men are working into the night to repair the road, which has been
impassable this week. As they sing to ease their labor, a low, melancholy voice,
rooted in an unbroken past, carries to my front gate the tune of a quiet, hidden
bravery.
Steven R. Brown
1981: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Seoul National University Political Science
My Fulbright experience in Korea was brief (spring semester 1981), but it had an
important influence on my professional life, resulting in the six publications listed
below, plus a rich variety of material used for illustrations in numerous courses.
It also led to lifetime friendships that continue to reward in terms of annual
Christmas cards, phone calls, e-mails, personal visits, and a stream of Korean
graduate students who have come to Kent State University at the suggestion
of their mentors. I took many photographs while in Seoul, but the camera was
primitive, and we were in the predigital age. Few if any photos have survived. One
of my fond memories from that semester was of helping Mrs. Shim Jai-ok complete
her master’s thesis using Q methodology, a procedure in which I had gained some
measure of expertise. I subsequently helped found the International Society for
the Scientific Study of Subjectivity (in which Q methodology plays a central role),
and I like to think that the later founding of the Korean Society for the Scientific
Study of Subjectivity (and its journal, Q Methodology and Theory) was in part due
to the residual influence of my lectures on Q methodology at Seoul National and
Hanyang Universities during that period.
I was in Korea at the time of martial law (less than a year after Chun Doo-
hwan’s ascendancy) and so was able to witness the consequences of the happy
transition when I returned for the international Q methodology conference in
1998―the happier faces, the brighter colors, the conviviality. I was drawn to Korea
27
in part due to the sociopolitical inconsistencies an d contrasts that were on the

surface for the casual observer to see and study, but I am pleased that the dialectic
has been permitted to proceed and to resolve many of those inconsistencies.
● Writings on Korea
The Indigenization of Methodology

Brown, S.R., & Kim, K.J./ Social Science and Policy Research (Seoul), 3(3),
pp.109-139 / 1981
Values, Development, and Character: Appraising Korean Experience

Brown, S.R. / Korea Fulbright Forum, No. 1, pp.33-66 / 1984
Exploring Korean Values

Brown, S.R., & Kil, B.O. / Asia Pacific: Perspectives, 2(1), pp.1-8 / 2002
Available on-line:
http://www.pacificrim.usfca.edu/research/perspectives/app_v2n1.html
The Indigenization of Methodology (revisited)

Brown, S.R. / Journal of Human Subjectivity, 1, pp.1-21 / 2003
The Science of Subjectivity: Methodology, Identity, and Deep Structures

Brown, S.R. / Q Methodology and Theory, 11, pp.5-31/ 2005
Q Methodology
Brown, S.R. / L.M. Given (Ed.) / The SAGE Encyclopedia of Qualitative
Research Methods , Vol. 2, pp. 699-702 / Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage / 2008
Komelia Hongja Okim
1982: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Hongik University Metal Craft
1994: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Wonkwang University Korean Metal
1982-83, Fulbright Senior Exchange Scholar to Korea for Teaching and Research
on Korean Metal Techniques
1. I taught metal arts courses to sophomores,

juniors and graduate students at Hongik
University. My son Kevin and I lived
at Seo-Kyo Apartment very near to the
school.
2. At the beginning, I faced a little difficulty

teaching metal arts in the Korean language
due to the relative lack of professional metal terms and knowledge in Korea,
as it was a relatively new field at the college level at that time. However, my
students were impressed by my “hands-on” teaching methods and processes
and my being a female Korean-American professor.
3. In May 1983, two other visiting professors from America and I conducted
a one-day seminar/workshop at Seoul National University for seniors,
graduate students, and young faculty members from several universities.
This seminar/workshop event was the first in Korean history in the metal arts
field.
29
4. My son Kevin, who was 12 years old, attended Seoul International Foreign
School. He gained very practical experience, learning about Korean foods and
customs, and he also learned to travel many parts of the city by bus with my
students and friends. He was scolded many times by old people for not being
able to speak Korean. (People didn’t know he was Korean-Japanese, born in
America, and didn’t speak Korean.)
5. Before my departure back to America in 1983, I helped to organize a young

metal artists’ association called the “No. 3 (or Third) Metal Artists’ Group” (Je
Sam Geurup, 제삼그룹) among Hongik, Seoul National and Kookmin Universities.
During that time, mingling among students from different universities was very
unusual and forbidden.
The inaugural No. 3 Group exhibition was held in July 1984, and I was invited as
their advisor. This association is still active, prominent and strong today among
young MFA graduates from Seoul and other cities.
6. Before my departure for the US in

July 1983, over 25 graduate students
from three universities got together
to invite me for a farewell trip to the
Emille Museum (충청북도 보은 에밀레 박
물관). This is the Cho Ja-ryung Private
Museum of Korean Minsok (traditional
crafts); it has shamanist dance tools,
funeral ceremony equipment, paintings, and a large collection of huge old
Korean outhouse earthen jars (they were displayed outside). We learned a lot
about the Korean traditional religion of shamanism, traditional Korean crafts,
and customs of old culture and craft arts. The evening was a memorable
one, with young future metal artists, museum director Cho Ja-ryung, and
staff members gathering around a wood fire outside discussing future metal
workshops and seminars and planning future events. These concepts of joint
seminars, workshops and exchanges of ideas and techniques were quite rare in
Korea during those days.
7. From 1984 to 1998, because of my academic and professional influence and

Fulbright exchange programs, many of my students from Hongik and other
universities in Korea came to the US for a second MFA in American metal arts,
as well as other craft arts fields.
1994-95, Fulbright Senior Exchange Scholar to Korea
I introduced Korean students and artists to Western surface metal techniques

in copper alloy projects using different chemical patina techniques of brushing
on heated solution, burying in sawdust, and wrapping with clothes with many
chemical combinations to create different colors, including blue, green, brown, and
mixtures.
Through two invitational art exhibitions at Myung-Bo Rang (1988) and Hyundai
Gallery (1994) showing these patina surface embellishment processes, teaching at
Wonkwang University as a Fulbright exchange professor, and lecturing and giving
demonstrations to many other college students and professional artists in Korea, I
became very popular in the Korean metal arts field, and remain so even today.
Before my departure back to America in June 1995, I helped to organize a
three-day international workshop/seminar, combined with a short exhibition
of artwork created by art professors invited from England, America, and Japan,
together with Korean professors at Wonkwang University. Over 200 students and
faculty members from all over Korea attended this event. After the seminar, we
took a three-day bus trip visiting special craft villages and historical sites located
in the southern part of Korea. This large-scale international workshop/seminar
had a huge impact on the Korean metal art field, motivating many young Korean
students to go abroad for further education and develop their future professional
careers.
Before my departure from Korea in 1995, I also helped to establish the Ewha
International Metal Arts Association (EMAA), an organization comprised of Ewha
graduates who later went on to obtain metal art degrees from other art institutions
in Korea and to pursue their second major field of study. This art association held
its inaugural exhibition in Seoul’s Insa-dong neighborhood during my stay in
Korea as a Fulbrighter. This association is still quite active and holds exhibitions
regularly, featuring the works of women artists from Germany, Japan, Taiwan,
Canada and the US.
While in Korea, I traveled and visited many museums, cultural centers,
31
▲ Group photo from the workshop/seminar on the Wonkwang University campus.

All attendees stayed at the school dormitory.
and National Living Treasures, from whom I learned Korea’s traditional metal
techniques. Today, these special techniques are widely known as the Korean
Damascene Technique (pomok sanggam), an inlay of fine silver and gold wire or
foil on mild steel created by chiseling very closely in four different directions,
and geumbu overlay, which uses heat to fuse 24-carat gold onto silver jewelry and
objects. After returning from Korea, I held numerous workshops and seminars
introducing Korea’s unique traditional metal techniques to the metal art worlds of
America, Canada, Norway, England, Russia, Taiwan, Thailand, and China through
art centers, universities, summer arts and crafts programs, and professional metal
arts associations
In terms of metal and fiber arts programs in Korea, I actively participated
in inviting several well-known American university professors to Korea and
Korean professors to America, where they presented high-quality workshops and
seminars while introducing American educational systems and methods. My later
professional activities involved coordinating and curating for the Korean Metal &
Fiber Arts Traveling Show for three years through many university museums and
art centers in North America, including Toronto Art Center, Nova Scotia College
of Art and Design University (NSCAD), Northern Arizona University, California
State University―Long Beach, Oregon State University, the University of Iowa,
Iowa State University, Indiana University, Montgomery College, the Florida
Museum, Kutztown University, Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, and the
St. Louis Museum, as well as holding a Homecoming Exhibit at the Walker Hill
Art Museum.
In the late 1990s, six of my former students from Hongik and Kookmin
Universities decided to come to live in the Washington, DC, metropolitan area,
where I live and teach. Many of my former students have earned second MFA
degrees in America. Some returned to Korea and are teaching at universities or
working as active practicing artists. Two of my former students have been teaching
part-time at my college while practicing as active and successful metal artists.
All in all, my experiences of teaching and researching as a Fulbright Exchange
Scholar in Korea have given me a great deal of personal reward and professional
satisfaction, enhancing my academic career and professional endeavors by
expanding my global vision as an educator/artist. As a Korean-American educated
in both Korea and US, I gained experiences as a Fulbrighter in Korea that provided
me with a wider and more meaningful perspective on my own personal life, as
well as a global perspective, as I became deeply engaged in the various cross-
cultural events and academic programs.
The Fulbright program has helped me grow, mature, and contribute to the
field of education, the development of metal arts programs, and international
cultural exchange endeavors. I was honored and given an enormous opportunity
to become more creative with an open mind, international exposure, and a deeper
understanding of the importance of international peace initiatives.
33
James F. Larson
1985: Senior Lecturer Yonsei University Communication
My Experience of the Fulbright Multiplier Effect
My Fulbright experience illustrates the multiplier effect of intercultural educational

exchange about which Senator Fulbright himself spoke. To date, I have spent more
than one quarter of my entire life in Korea, pursuing interests made possible in
large part by a growing personal network of friends and colleagues. My Korea
experience started with my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer, teaching English
at Gangwon National University in Chuncheon (1971-72). The Peace Corps is
where I first met Fulbright’s current Executive Director, Shim Jai-ok, whom I next
encountered upon my return to Korea as a senior Fulbright grantee (1985-86) in
the Mass Communication Department at Yonsei University.
Those were the years when Korea was preparing to host the Seoul Olympics.
Both my research opportunities and my network of friends and associates with
Korea interests began to snowball. I attended numerous academic conferences
associated with the Seoul Olympics and co-authored a book, Global Television and
the Politics of the Seoul Olympics, with a Yonsei colleague, Professor Park Heung-
soo. At a 1987 conference in Seoul, I first met Miquel de Moragas, with whom I
would co-direct a 25-nation study of the 1992 Barcelona Olympics that led to our
book Television in the Olympics.
Another Yonsei colleague, Professor Choe Chong-ho, came to the United
States on a Fulbright grant of his own while I was teaching at the University of
Washington. He knew my interests and took the initiative to introduce me to Dr.
Oh Myung, who was at the time Chairman of the 1993 Taejon Expo. With Dr. Oh’s
invaluable assistance, I was able to research and write The Telecommunications
Revolution in Korea, published in 1995. Although the book dealt with Korea’s first
digital and electronic networks, it was my expanding personal networks in Korea
that most influenced my life and career. I designed and directed a large executive
training program for Korea Mobile Telecom (now SK Telecom) at the University
of Colorado in Boulder. About the time that 18-month program ended, a vacancy
opened up for the position of Associate Director of the Fulbright Commission
in Seoul, with responsibilities for both testing and technology. Back in 1996,
computer-based testing was just beginning, with large-scale activity in Korea
starting in 2000 with the computer-based TOEFL. Likewise, the arrival of the
internet promised to re-shape the nature of Fulbright’s study-abroad advising.
So while it may have been Korea’s spicy food and culture that first caught my
attention, as for so many others it was the growing web of personal acquaintances
and friendships that drew me in over the years. At Fulbright, I’ve had the privilege
of working closely over recent years with Mrs. Shim and Horace H. Underwood
as Executive Directors. Perhaps it was also destiny that brought me to Korea just
at the time this country was emerging as a world leader in broadband Internet,
and the IT industry more generally. I’ve stayed in touch with Dr. Oh Myung and
many associates in Korea’s telecom sector. The study of Korea’s rapidly evolving
information society has given me a challenging and always changing avocation.
That’s it: my personal experience of the Fulbright program’s multiplier effect.
All in all, through work, play, and my experience of Korea, I’ve been given an
extraordinary opportunity to follow my bliss.
35
Donald R. Ranish
1987: Senior Lecturer Kyung Hee University Political Science
My recollections of my Fulbright experience are extensive, significant, and still

boldly clear in my mind. My wife, son and I recall our arrival in Seoul in the
middle of winter in 1987―a cold and dark evening―and the long ride to the hotel.
Burdened with doubts and concerns about what to expect, as well as struggling
with jet lag, I did not know what would happen. How would my family and
I adapt? What would be the response from my academic and professional
colleagues? How would we adjust to the cultural and language barriers that we
perceived to be overwhelming and impenetrable?
The next morning, we were driven to the Fulbright office, a nondescript
building near the American embassy―not at all imposing or impressive. We took
the elevator to the Fulbright office. As we walked through the door, everything
changed. The dynamic energy was quickly evident. Staff members cordially
greeted us. Fred Carriere, then the executive director, was amazing, as were Mrs.
Shim and the entire Fulbright community, seeking to accommodate every question
or concern we had. All doubts, all worries, all fears disappeared.
Once we had settled at Kyung Hee’s Graduate Institute of Peace, with the
strong support of the Fulbright office as well as of the university, it was clear that
our lives would never be the same. We were so comfortable the year we were in
Korea. Although it was a time of political disruption and continuing tension over
American military forces in the Republic of Korea, not once did we feel threatened,
intimidated or concerned for our well-being. We lived in a small community
outside of Seoul. We interacted with the people of the village. We shopped in local
stores. We rode buses and taxis all over Seoul. We traveled by train and intercity
bus to almost all parts of the country, walked the markets and neighborhoods, and
practiced our primitive Korean. The more we embraced the people and the culture,
the more we became inextricably tied to the essence of a nation. We learned, grew,
and became better citizens of the international community.
A single experience cannot change the world or overcome misunderstandings
and miscommunication. I believe there is an inherent schism between the
American and Korean culture and national experiences that is not easily overcome.
This is true regardless of the strong bilateral relationship between the two
countries, the large number of Koreans who study in the United States, and the
vibrant Korean-American communities such as those found in Los Angeles and
New York. I never believed that I would change Korea or make a difference in any
profound way; however, Korea changed us forever. We are now more globalized
and sensitive to cultural differences and values, and we consider ourselves part
of a universal village. Senator Fulbright’s vision lives on in all Fulbright grantees.
I know this to be true; that vision lives within me each day. That is the greatest
legacy of our year there, and nothing will ever change that.
37
Henry Sanoff
1990: Distinguished Lecturer Seoul National University Architecture
Seoul in 1990 was very different

from Seoul today, particularly
since I was the first international
scholar invited to Seoul National
University’s Architecture
Department. At that time,
Westerners were often viewed
as being either in the military
or visitors from Utah, since the
Mormons were quite popular
and a major military base was located in Seoul. Since I was too old to be in the
military, young people often asked if I was from Utah. They also had a desire to
test their English speaking with me.
At SNU I taught a PhD seminar and worked with a group of students
translating Design Games, which was my third book translated into Korean.
During my several months in Korea, I lectured at different universities and
met many colleagues with whom I am in continuous contact. As a result of that
experience, many Korean professors came to work with me at North Carolina State
University as visiting scholars.
More recently, I lectured at Yonsei and several other Korean universities.
Dramatic changes had occurred
in Seoul in the preceding
twenty years, including new
urban development across
the Han River, an extensive
array of excellent international
restaurants, an expanded
subway system making all
parts of the city accessible, and
a new and impressive airport. Each visit to Korea included a traditional Korean
meal with former visiting scholars, academic colleagues, and students sharing
memorable experiences.
39
Charles K. Armstrong
1991: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Yonsei University History
1999: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Yonsei University History
The Fulbright program has been an exciting and integral part of my development
as a student and scholar. I have been privileged with a Fulbright award twice: first
as a graduate student at the University of Chicago, when I received a Fulbright
IIE grant to do PhD research in Seoul in 1991-92; and second as an Assistant
Professor at Columbia University, when I returned to Seoul as a Fulbright Senior
Scholar during my sabbatical year in 2000. Thanks to these grants, I was able to
spend extended periods living and doing research in Korea. This was, of course,
crucial for my scholarship, but these experiences also enabled me to get a feel for
the life and mood in Korea at these two critical moments in recent Korean history
and Korea-US relations. The program has always been an important facilitator for
the exchange of ideas and of mutual understanding between our two countries,
as Senator Fulbright intended. It has enhanced my understanding of Korean
invaluably and enabled me to establish personal and institutional connections that
have stayed with me throughout my career.
During my student Fulbright days in the early 1990s, I was affiliated with the
Asiatic Research Center at Korea University under the supervision of Professor
Choi Jang-jip. It was a time of significant transition on the Korean Peninsula: the
Republic of Korea was about to elect its first civilian President in 30 years, the
transition to democracy was giving rise to a burgeoning civil society movement
(which would be the subject of my first book1) , and North and South Korea signed
their most wide-ranging agreement on mutual cooperation in the history of the
divided peninsula. Ambassador Donald Gregg ably represented the United States
in Seoul at this crucial juncture, and the Director of Fulbright―in my eyes a figure
nearly as important as the US Ambassador―was Fred Carriere. Little did I imagine
that years later I would be working closely with both of them at the Korea Society
in New York, where Ambassador Gregg was President and Fred was Executive
Director! Not least, the program introduced me to my fellow student grantees,
many of whom would go on to be prominent scholars in Korean studies. Andre
Schmid, Laura Nelson, Tom Lee, Victor Cha and others whom I got to know at that
time have remained my friends and colleagues ever since.
The second time I came to Korea on a Fulbright was nearly eight years later,
sponsored by the Institute for Modern Korean Studies at Yonsei University.
Much had changed in the meantime. The program itself had moved from the
conveniently located but somewhat cramped offices in Anguk-dong to brand-new
facilities in Mokpo. The ETA program had just started, and I met the first batch of
eager American English teachers to come to Korea on that program. North-South
Korean relations had made considerable progress, and the Pyongyang Summit
between Kim Dae-jung and Kim Jong-il took place that June. Ten years later, much
has changed again in Korea and in the US, but the importance of the Fulbright
program for US-Korean relations is undiminished. I have been fortunate to play a
small part in this 60-year history.
1 Charles K. Armstrong, ed. Korean Society: Civil Society, Democracy and the State (London: Routledge, 2002).
41
Donald L. Baker
1978: Junior Researcher Seoul National University Korean History
1993: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Seoul National University Korean History
Twice Fortunate, Twice Grateful
I have enjoyed the unusual good fortune of going to Korea as a Fulbright scholar
on two separate occasions, once as a doctoral candidate in Korean history at the
University of Washington in the late 1970s and then again over a decade later, in
the early 1990s, as a professor of Korean history. Spending a substantial amount
of time in Korea as a member of the Fulbright community has made me a better
Korean historian, both because of what I learned from the Korean historians I met
in Korea and because of the material I found there that I would never have had
access to in North America.
When I first came to Korea as a Fulbright scholar, I was preparing to write
a dissertation on pre-modern Korean history. That means that the people I was
studying had been dead for centuries. Unlike those who study the history or
politics of late 20th century or early 21st century Korea, I didn’t need to go to
Korea to interview my subjects. Moreover, I might have been able to produce
an acceptable doctoral dissertation using only books and articles I could find in
libraries in the US. However, if the Fulbright program hadn’t invited me to Korea,
I never would have gotten to know so many of Korea’s top historians, scholars
such as Han Young-woo, Cho Kwang, and Keum Chang-tae, all of whom are
recognized as the best in their field in Korea, and all of whom offered me priceless
advice about where to look for historically significant data, and how to interpret
that data, that I never could have gotten just by reading their publications. The
guidance and insights I gained from my personal contact with those scholars―
contact made possible because of my Fulbright-funded stay in Korea―profoundly
shaped my understanding of Korean history and, I believe, made it possible for me
to do a better job explaining Korean history back on this side of the Pacific Ocean.
I should also add that although my research focuses on pre-modern Korea, I
also teach modern Korean history. Thanks to Fulbright, I was in Korea when some
of that history was being made. The assassination of President Park Chung-hee,
the rise to power of Chun Doo-hwan, and the Kwangju massacre of May 1980
all occurred soon after the Fulbright program brought me to Seoul for doctoral
dissertation research. As a result, my students today get more than just an
academic analysis of that pivotal period in modern Korean history―they also get
an eyewitness account.
When Fulbright invited me
back in the early 1990s, Korea
was a much more peaceful
place. So instead of watching
battles between pro-democracy
demonstrators and those who
were violently opposed to
democracy, I instead wandered
around the peninsula looking
for evidence of both traditional
spirituality and the ways in which that spirituality had been transformed in recent
decades. I could have found books in US university libraries on Korean Buddhism,
shamanism, Confucianism, and Christianity. But to actually understand what
Korean Buddhists, shamans, Confucians, and Christians do, I had to talk with
them and watch them engage in their various religious practices. A Fulbright
research grant made such direct contact and personal observations possible. The
result was a series of articles on various religious organizations in Korea today
and in the past, culminating in the 2008 publication of a broad survey of Korea’s
pluralistic religious environment, Korean Spirituality (University of Hawaii Press).
43
I would never have been able to write that book, informed as it is by personal
encounters with religious Koreans, if the Fulbright program had not invited me to
Korea to research Korean religiosity.
Without the Fulbright grants that brought me to Korea on those two different
occasions, I would not have been a very productive scholar of Korean history
and religion. In fact, I might not have been able to be an academic at all, since
the publications that earned me my university position all drew heavily on
what I learned during those Fulbright-funded research stays. And if I were not
a professor of Korean Studies, I would not be able to contribute very much to
the more accurate American understanding of Korean culture and history that is
essential for better Korean-American relations.
I am sure that the Korea Fulbright Program has had an equally positive impact
with the research opportunities it has provided to many other American and
Korean scholars. Over the last six decades, many American Fulbright scholars
have returned to the US with an enhanced understanding of Korea, and therefore
with an enhanced ability to teach and write about Korea. Over those same
decades, many Korean Fulbright scholars have returned to Korea from America
with an enhanced understanding of America that allowed them to write and teach
about America more accurately and effectively. So on this 60th anniversary of
the Korean-American Educational Commission, I would like to offer my thanks,
not only for my career but also for all the Korea Fulbright Program has done
through fellowships to me and to many others to promote friendship and mutual
understanding between the people of America and the people of Korea.
Jonathan C. Kramer
1995: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Chosun University Music
Reflections on the Korea Fulbright Experience, 1996
I received the Fulbright Fellowship following two summers in residence at the

Center for Traditional Korean Performing Arts (Gungnip Gugagwon) in Seoul in
1993 and 1994. The six-month fellowship gave me the opportunity to continue my
study of haegum sanjo under the tutelage of Professor Shim Im-taek in Gwangju.
As it happened, the professor teaching cello at Chosun University died a month
before my arrival in Gwangju, so I replaced him that semester, taking over a studio
of seven undergraduate cellists. So it was a real “East meets West” experience,
teaching Western art music while studying a highly complex traditional Korean
folk genre. I performed numerous recitals
in Gwangju, Seoul, and elsewhere while in
Korea, including, by the end, combination
programs with the cello and haegeum.
The six months of memorable ex-
periences were shared with my wife
Debbie and our two children―Brittney,
age 11, and Matthias, age one. People
were extremely helpful and generous,
45
and the children provided a common area of mutual interest―and they certainly
contributed to the adventure. Brittney picked up an impressive amount of Korean,
made friends with a number of Korean children, and had many sleepovers.
During a stay at Songwonsa Monastery, she asked the abbot, “What is the sound of
one hand clapping?” He laughed and said he didn’t know. Back in the US later that
fall, we hosted the same monk in Raleigh while he was on his way to the Atlanta
Olympics.
The six months in
Korea were extremely
important to my career.
Upon my return, I began
teaching courses in Asian
music at Duke University,
which I have continued
since; and I initiated a
number of programs,
concerts and courses at
North Carolina State
University that include Korean subjects. In addition, Korean music appears in a
number of case studies in the college textbook I am developing. Friendships made
more than fifteen years ago are still fresh, and the beauty of Korean expressive
culture continues to enrich my life and, through me, I hope, the lives of my
students.
Michael Devine
1995: Senior Lecturer Yonsei University American History
My selection to serve as a Senior Fulbright Lecturer on American history in 1995

provided my first opportunity to return to Korea for an extended visit since my
Peace Corps service 25 years earlier.
The changes in Korea over a quarter of a century were startling. My assignment
teaching history at Yonsei University placed me in the same Sinchon area of
Seoul that I had known during my Peace Corps service, when I taught English at
neighboring Sogang University.
In addition to teaching bright graduate students, a highlight of my Fulbright
experience was the opportunity to get to know several members of the remarkable
Underwood family―in particular, Horace H. Underwood, who a few years later
became director of the Fulbright program in Korea, and his father Dr. Horace
G. Underwood, a one-time president of Yonsei University whose illustrious
grandfather had founded that great institution in the late 19th century.
My friendship with Dr. Underwood led to collaboration with him on his
memoirs, recording his life growing up in Japanese-occupied Korea, his
imprisonment by the Japanese authorities in 1941 following the attack on Pearl
Harbor, his release and eventual service as a naval officer in the Pacific, and his
many years of involvement with Yonsei University as it grew into the outstanding
institution of higher education in the Far East that it is today.
Dr. Underwood also played an important role during the Korean War. He and
his younger brother Richard served as officers in the United States Navy and
47
Army, respectively, and as interpreters for several years at the peace negotiations
at Panmunjeom.
Dr. Underwood’s memoirs were published by Yonsei University Press in 2001
as Korea in War, Revolution and Peace: The Recollections of Horace G. Underwood.
A Korean-language version was published in 2002.
Alvin Magid
1997: Lecturer and Researcher Yonsei University Political Science
Some people collect stamps, others coins. Over the past 27 years, I’ve been
collecting Fulbright awards: three Senior Scholar honors (Belgrade University,
Yugoslavia, academic year 1983-84; Yonsei University, Seoul, Korea, academic
year 1997-98; National University of Mongolia, Ulaanbaatar, spring semester 2004)
and two Senior Specialist ones (Bratislava International School of Liberal Arts,
Bratislava, Slovakia, fall semester 2006; Faculty of Law, Ss. Cyril and Methodius
University, Skopje, Macedonia, spring semester 2010).
My Korea Fulbright was very special. My wife Sally and I traveled in the
country and “mined” Seoul, a truly wonderful city with its great subway system,
Art Center, museums, restaurants, outdoor markets, etc. In many venues we
enjoyed being with Koreans from all walks of life. Korean food remains among
my favorites worldwide: I got hooked on kimchi for life. We lived on the Yonsei
campus, affording us many opportunities to interact with Korean students and
staff. It was great teaching at Yonsei.
As a Fulbrighter, I began researching the question of North Korean survivalism.
I continued doing so for nine weeks in the summer 1999 as a Visiting International
Scholar in Kyungnam University’s Institute for Far Eastern Studies in Seoul. I
returned to Seoul for two weeks in the summer of 2000 to participate in various
conferences.
49
In due course, I published articles on North Korean survivalism in two English-

language Korean scholarly journals.
I continue to follow closely political developments on the Korean Peninsula and
the impressive attainments of Korean athletes in international competition, most
recently at the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. I never stop talking up Korea to my
compatriots all over the US I’m giving serious thought to making my next auto
purchase a Hyundai.
Young-Key Kim-Renaud
1997: Senior Researcher Seoul National University Linguistics
My Fulbright Connection
My relationship with the Fulbright program has been rather long and extensive.
In 1985, I went to Korea as a member of the US delegation selected by the US
Department of Education to attend a two-week Fulbright-supported International
Symposium on Korean Language Teaching at Yonsei University from June 24 to
July 5. This was a period when Korean studies and Korean language education
were emerging as part of the regular curriculum at US universities. In 1993,
I lectured in courses on Korea in a Fulbright Training Program for teachers
of English to Koreans in Seoul. In the summer of 1994, I joined a dozen other
professors selected among some 400 applicants from US universities for an eye-
opening study tour to Jordan to learn about “Islamic Culture and Civilization
Today.”
My most important Fulbright-supported work was carried out during the
academic year of 1997-98, when I sojourned in Seoul. I was comfortably and
warmly welcomed by Seoul National University, where I was given an office
with a beautiful view of the creek. Through language change, particularly in
honorific marking, I could glimpse how the society was changing. One thing that
never seemed to really go away was the importance of human relationships in
every facet of Korean lives. After returning to the US, I was called to serve on the
51
Fulbright Senior Scholar Review Committee for Japan/Korea for three years (1999-
2002). On February 21, 2002, I had the honor of delivering a keynote address at the
7th Annual Fulbright Reception sponsored by the George Washington University
Beta Omicron Chapter of the Phi Beta Delta Society for International Scholars; the
Office of Fellowships and Graduate Support; the International Services Office; and
Research and Graduate Studies. It was held under the title “Fulbright Now, More
than Ever,” the text of which is attached. I have been a happy lifetime member of
the Fulbright Alumni Association since 1999.
My interest in linguistics and
in different cultures of the world
was formed rather early in my
life. It has only intensified as I
have come to live a multicultural
life in a faraway land that I
have adopted as my own. It
did not take me long to realize
that learning about others and
trying to explain my own language and culture were in fact excellent ways of
learning about myself. The Fulbright program, to me, epitomizes a belief in peace
and harmony among different nations and peoples, and is even more crucial in
the current atmosphere, where force―more than dialogue―and walls―rather
than openness―seem to reign. In many ways, the program is the most successful
and significant public initiative of foreign policy developed by the US in the last
half-century. As a Korea-born scholar who has led her professional career at US
universities for decades, I think the Fulbright program has helped me to seek,
see, and appreciate learning about new cultures and peoples and, through that
experience, to rethink and rediscover my own roots and identity and to reexamine
how I may contribute to my adoptive country and society. It has been a one long,
exciting and rewarding journey.
James Perkins
1998: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Seoul National University American Literature
Snapshots of My Best Day in Korea
Just as the mountains are the backbone of the peninsula of Korea, so the family,
steeped in the vestiges of a Confucianism that took stronger root in the rocky soil
of Korea than it did in its native China, is the backbone of Korean society. For as
the mountains protect this tiny land and ameliorate the fury of storms the seas
bring from three directions, so the enclave of the family turns inward and protects
itself as well as the society in times of trouble and unrest.
Koreans are a friendly and caring people, but their friendliness is a public
matter; it does not usually extend to an invitation for a foreigner to participate in
a family event. So I was honored and a bit awed when one of my students at Seoul
National University, where I was teaching during the fall semester of 1999 as a
Senior Fulbright Professor, asked my wife and me to join her family on a Sunday
outing in the country northeast of Seoul.
Snapshot #1
We are standing near the Gangnam subway stop on the Green Line in Seoul,
hoping that we got the instructions right. Since we speak and read no Korean,
we have had wonderful days wandering about Seoul looking for things. It hasn’t
53
mattered. We are new in the country, and everything we see, whether it’s what
we planned to see or not, is new and interesting. Whenever we pull out a map, a
crowd gathers to help us―a crowd eager to try out English. It is a bit chilly here
in the shade. Soon Ms. Lee and her parents arrive (her sister, who is still in high
school, had to stay home and study; Korean young people work very hard and
take their schooling seriously), and we are off to the mountains northeast of Seoul.
Snapshot #2
We are seated in a beautiful country restaurant, Jane and I on one side of the table,
Ms. Lee and her mother on the other. Ms. Lee’s father is not in the picture. He
is holding the camera. Like most Korean men, he works quietly and hard in the
background to make things happen, to provide for his family. Between us on the
table are an array of dishes, a seafood soup, and many varieties of kimchi. The
food is spicy and delicious, and I hope my fork-trained fingers will allow me to get
through breakfast with metal chopsticks. The tiny muscles in the back of my hand
tire, and toward the end of the meal I begin to drop squid.
Snapshot #3
This is like our trip to England. We have just eaten a big meal, and now we are
hiking along a mountain road with the Lees. Ms. Lee’s mother and father are
very proud of her. They went to Seoul National University in the days when it
was difficult to get through a semester because of student protests against the
government. We talk about the school, about Ms. Lee’s plans, and about the impact
of the Asian financial crisis. We do not talk about Ms. Lee’s mother’s health. The
rocky spine of the protective mountain looms above us. Finally, we pause on rocks
in the midst of the swift, cold waters of a mountain stream, and Ms. Lee’s mother
serves us ginseng tea.
Snapshot #4
We are at the family farm, a small vegetable patch overseen by Ms. Lee’s father’s
nephew. Here, as elsewhere in Korea, we are struck by the fact that every square
meter of arable land is under cultivation. Today, they are harvesting radishes and
cabbage that will find its way into kimchi jars. There are two Koreas not the south
and north, but Seoul and everywhere else. Standing here on this patch of ground,
looking over the small, well-tended fields of other farmers, I think that if I could
not see the Lee’s car standing on the road, I might very well be in some other time
altogether.
Snapshot #5
We are eating again in a rustic, outdoor restaurant with tables under trellises
surrounding open wood fires in concrete rings. The food is wonderful. Ms. Lee’s
mother asks the waiter to bring my favorite Korean dish, pajeon, a sort of green
onion crepe. We are looking out on the Bukhan River. Its waters rise in the foothills
of the Diamond Mountains in North Korea. A few miles south of here, it joins with
the Namhan River to form the Han River, which flows through Seoul to the West
Sea at Incheon. The waters of the Namhan rise on Mt. Sobaek to the south. Koreans
believe that these two rivers, one from the north and one from the south, joining to
flow through the capital, are the symbol of what should be a united country. But
I am not thinking about politics now, or of the reach of water or the strength of
mountains. I am watching the logs burning in the fire circle in this lovely outdoor
bower and thinking about families, especially the Lees.
Snapshot #6
We are driving home through the comparatively light Sunday evening traffic in
Seoul. We are quiet. Ms. Lee is nodding off, worn out by the day, by the semester,
by the struggle she has waged to get where she is, and by her deep concern for her
mother. I imagine other return trips, Ms. Lee’s sister along, everyone singing and
laughing. The Lees are fine people, and they have given me a special gift: my very
best day in Korea.
55
Richard D. Weis
2003: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Hannam University Fine Arts
A fifth floor studio at Hannam University in Daejeon was home base during my
six-month Fulbright in Korea in 2003. My open-door policy attracted students from
adjacent studios in the Fine Arts Department and created a wonderful ongoing
dialogue. When I returned from my daily explorations with drawings to post
on my walls, the students were noticeably curious. By the end of the six-month
period, I had over 40 works and many friends.
I came to Korea equipped with a list of Korean artists who had attended the
Vermont Studio Center. With the help of Professor Shin Jung-deok, and the
invaluable assistance of Ms. Kim Ji-eun of the art history faculty, I began setting
out to meet many of the prominent and upcoming
contemporary artists in the country. Traveling much
of Korea, I interviewed and exchanged ideas with 22
artists in their studios and spent significant time with
at least 50 others. I visited Professor Kim Hyun-dae at
his studio in the Young-un Museum, as well as Gwon
O-sang, Moon Beom, Nam Cheol, Koo Kyoung-sook,
Lee Sang-gill, Lee Min-joo and Jin Ik-song in their
▲ Sculptor Nam Choel, one
studios. I returned frequently to the pottery village in of the early modernist
Mt. Gyeryong National Park near Gongju and spent sculptors at his rooftop
studio in Daejeon, with
time with several families there. These contacts led to Richard Weis
a 2004-05 residency for Jin Ik-song at my home campus, Green Mountain College,
and inspired a Hannam professor to apply for a Fulbright research award in the
US. He visited our campus as a guest lecturer during his Fulbright year.
A very special memory from Korea involved an impromptu visit with the
widow of pioneer modernist sculptor Kim Chong-yung, arranged by her son. One
moment we were visiting the Kim Chong-yung Museum, and the next we were
spirited away to her nearby apartment where, over tea, we discussed what she had
seen as art flourished after the war years. Through her eyes, we were able to sense
the creative spirit of a wonderful people in a difficult time.
While at Hannam University, I was involved in discussions with the Center of
International Relations about developing a short-term summer program for non-
Koreans to introduce them to Korean culture. In 2004, I returned with six students
for the first of Hannam’s Korea Summer Studies Programs, and I have returned
twice more since then. A 2004 Fulbright Alumni Initiative Award increased
interchange between Korean art students and the art students on my campus. My
involvement with international activities led to my appointment as Director of
International Programs at Green Mountain College. I am proud to say there was
a substantial increase in the international activity on campus during my tenure,
with more students going abroad and significantly more international students
attending our campus.
▲ Artist Professor Ahn Young Na with Richard Weis
57
Currently, I am listed on the Fulbright Specialist roster, and I have hopes that
I will be returning to Korea or other locations abroad to continue working as an
artist/educator through the Fulbright Program. This spring, I retired from full-time
teaching to devote more time to my studio work. Those who have known my work
through the years have recognized the influences from my time in Korea, and I
feel as if I am seeing the world through fresh eyes. There is a new sensitivity to the
expressive potential of the materials with which I work as a result of my Korean
experience.
Robert C. Morgan
2005: Senior Researcher and Lecturer Chosun University Modern Art
The fine arts and the study and investigation of art history on all continents, in
all cultures, and under varied circumstances are the air I breathe and the reason
I feel such immense delight in relation to my work. I believe that artists have the
potential to offer a more positive alternative to the normative realities of politics,
meeting the complex challenges of the present and seeking a better world. My four
months as a Senior Scholar with the Fulbright Foundation in the Republic of Korea
revealed an enriched intellectual and cultural terrain in which the manifestation of
purposefully endowed experiences with artists was realized. My research, lectures,
and exchanges with artists included contact with traditional artisans, painters,
sculptors, conceptual artists, dancers, and musicians. These immensely gratifying
encounters occurred primarily in Gwangju and Seoul. Since 2005, I have returned
to Korea on three occasions, often reconnecting with students, interviewing artists,
lecturing at conferences, exchanging ideas with scholars, visiting exhibitions, and
writing critical essays on contemporary Korean art and culture. I continue to see a
wealth of creative possibilities among artists in Korea, as I stay in touch with this
moving intellectual and emotional climate of individuals who are seeking a better
world and stretching the boundaries in understanding the human condition as a
worldwide global consciousness. With the relatively new challenges of advanced
communication technologies, Koreans continually reinforce the necessity of
59
bringing the virtual world into closer contact with tactile experience, and thus
maintain the balance of yin and yang, the righteous path of the Tao. In doing so,
there are many Korean artists who project a steady course by acknowledging
the presence of nature and intrinsic human values in everyday life. This highly
enlightened point of view offers great encouragement as a point of strength in
balancing the weaknesses that exist in other parts of the planet. My Fulbright
experience in the Republic of Korea opened the threshold to recognize important
spiritual realities, coming to terms with the imbalances fomented in the wake of
selfish consumerist lifestyles. It convinced me of the mountain of work ahead of
me in my travels, research, writing, and general work as an artist, critical thinker,
and art historian.
Maureen Fleming
2006: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Seoul Institute of the Arts Dance
I am an American choreographer/performance artist and came to Korea with

Fulbright in 2006 and 2007 to both lecture and conduct research. I am now in
my fifth year as an Artist-in-Residence at the Seoul Institute of the Arts, teaching
dance, non-verbal performance and collaboration classes both for dancers and
actors, as well as continuing to perform internationally. I have been blessed by the
abundant opportunities that the Fulbright Scholars Program has provided. I have
created new works for stage and video, including the evening-length works “Waters
of Immortality and Other Works” and “Effulgent Wings,” and have developed
Fleming Elastics, an original training method incorporating movement and voice
to increase strength, flexibility and vocal presence.
In 2009, I organized intercultural projects that have since involved Korean
students in performances of my choreography with students at Brown
University and Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), and I have taken Seoul
Institute students with me as interns for full-scale professional performances in
Boston, Cincinnati and Brazil. I believe these experiences have created positive
opportunities in giving students a broader understanding of global culture, which
I feel is a very important aspect of the Fulbright experience. Often, students return
more interested in studying Korean arts because they realize what an important
resource this study is for their development as a whole person.
Another unexpected development that I had during my experience in Korea
61
is that I found photography. The Seoul Institute of the Arts is a top school in the
field of photography in Korea, so I started studying and began taking photos of
myself. I organized “Dances from Home,” my first photography installation, in
New York City in August 2009; this also involved over 25 years of collaborations
with renowned dance photographers including Lois Greenfield and Spencer Tunic.
However, I may be the first dancer to sign her own name to her photo image
and sell it as a work of art. I believe this is an empowering new and sustainable
resource for dance artists: the possibility of presenting photography installations
in conjunction with dance performances. On September 11, 2010, “Dances from
Home” will be presented in conjunction with a new presentation of “Waters of
Immortality and Other Works” at SUNY Oneonta in New York.
I think that leaving the US allowed me to create a breathing relationship with
America. During my Fulbright residency in Korea, I performed in the Fall for
Dance Festival at New York’s City Center; the renowned Jacob’s Pillow Festival;
and the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston. I have been able to step back
and see things more objectively, which, in turn, has influenced my art. Since
coming to Korea, I have had increased opportunities on both sides of the globe. I
am also currently in the process of creating a new evening of performance art that
integrates photography and video with
live performance, as well as integrating
voice to take my work to a new level.
One of the most important things I
have learned in Korea is how to turn
“chaos” into creativity. I sense that there
is a level of chaos that is accepted as
normal due to the turbulent history that
makes Korea what it is. I have found
that decisions are often put off to the
last moment, creating an unknowing
and a feeling of not being in control
of crucial decisions in one’s life. This frustration, at its best, procures an energy...a
seed for transformation. I have found that mastering this process of transformation
and turning it into creation is the key to gaining the respect that opens doors
in Korea. I believe this is a phenomenon unique to Korea, and perhaps other
countries still living in the wake of war.
The Cheonan incident, for me, is an example of the chaos created from the
unexpected, and it is, of course, linked to the Korean War experience. I feel it is
important to recognize that chaos can be a weapon that can also create destruction
instead of clarity. It appears to me that it is important for all of us to become aware
when we are creating a state of chaos in someone’s life by making or not making
a particular decision, or other activities that lead to destructive chaos. If we can
become keenly aware of this in our interactions with others, I feel we are giving
meaning to the deaths of these men, who could have been any of the students we
have known and loved. This awareness is a choice that can hopefully bring us all
closer to unity.
63
Henry B. Sirgo
2007: Senior Lecturer Yonsei University Political Science
Legacy of a 2007-08 Fulbright Senior Lectureship
Dr. Chung Kyung-chae, an urban planner, enlightened me during my service as

Fulbright Senior Lecturer at Yonsei University during the 2007-2008 academic
year. He graciously guided me through his ancestral home in Bangsan-dong,
Siheung, and subsequently invited me to write the foreword to his manuscript on
environmental policy in Northeast Asia. Following my return to the United States,
we communicated primarily via e-mail, but also, on at least one occasion, via
telephone. The manuscript is being considered for publication by the Royal Asiatic
Society of Great Britain and Ireland-Korea Branch.
I have long been interested in comparative political analysis across political
jurisdictions, and particularly in the realms of gender, governance, the functioning
of political parties and environmental policy. I participated in a day of oil spill
cleanup on a beach in Korea following the collision, in December 2007, of a vessel
owned by Samsung Heavy Industries and an oil tanker. In Cameron Parish in June
2010, I participated as a member of the Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana in
a beach cleanup in anticipation of possible forthcoming damage from the British
Petroleum oil rig catastrophe. Comparisons of both oil spills featured prominently
in lectures on environmental policy in both sections of my State and Local
Government course late in the spring semester of 2010.
My experiences at Yonsei University made possible my paper “The Public
Governance Programme of the Organization for Economic Co-Operation and
D e v e l o p m e n t / K o r e a Po l i c y
Centre (OECD) and Other Public
Administration and Public
Policy Opportunities in Asia,”
submitted to the 2009 Meeting
o f t h e S o u t h we s t e r n S o c i a l
Science Association in Denver.
I lectured in the Department of
Political Science & International
Studies at Yonsei University,
but met Professor M. Jae Moon of the Yonsei University Department of Public
Administration when I attended a program on administrative discretion. Prof.
Moon, whose publications on e-government are frequently cited and who travels
to the United States every year for the annual meeting of the American Society for
Public Administration, arranged for me to make a Power Point presentation on
executive branch reorganization to the OECD. At other OECD functions, I made
the acquaintance of ambassadors to Korea from Denmark and Indonesia.
Materials acquired from an OECD program proved an excellent resource
as I mentored Mr. Micah Boudreaux in his capacity as Undergraduate Scholar
Participant representing the McNeese State University Department of Social
Sciences in “A Program for Student Scholars in Search of Excellence,” which was
held on April 28, 2010. The title of his project was “How Does Indonesia Civil
Service Compare with United States?” I have been invited to participate in a panel
on governance in Korea by Professor Richard Feiock of Florida State University
at the 2011 Meeting of the Southern Political Science Association (SPSA) in New
Orleans. At the 2009 SPSA meeting in New Orleans, I chaired a panel entitled
“Comparing Presidential Nomination Processes in South Korea and the United
States,” and at the 2010 SPSA meeting in Atlanta I served as chair/discussant on the
“Korean Electoral Behavior” panel. The legacy of my Fulbright in Korea is a rich
one.
65
George Katsiaficas
2007: Senior Lecturer Chonnam National University Social Movements
My Fulbright grant sponsored me in Gwangju, where I was able to interact with

people whose understanding of the US was often refracted through the prism
of US support for Chun Doo-hwan in 1980. This tragic choice, the genesis of
modern anti-Americanism in South Korea, continues to animate resentment and
discussion, especially as antagonistic US relations with North Korea continue into
the 21st century. Despite the political issues dividing governments, the hospitality
and friendships I experienced were incredible. During my tenure at Chonnam
National University, I never personally experienced any problems of a political
nature. Instead, I enjoyed the warmth and critical collegiality of my Korean
counterparts, and I continue to cherish the memories of my Gwangju days.
Danny Wedding
2008: Distinguished Lecturer Yonsei University Psychology
My students at Yonsei were exceptionally bright, and teaching there was a genuine
joy. After I returned to Missouri, I was surprised and pleased to learn that the
Department of Psychology had nominated me as the Yonsei “Teacher of the Year,“
and on the basis of their nomination and student evaluations I was selected for
this award, which was accompanied by a cash prize of 1,000,000 won, which I will
invest in an airline ticket to return to Seoul next year to visit my Yonsei friends.
I’ve always been friendly to visiting
students and international guests, but
since my Fulbright experience I’ve
gone out of my way to be friendly and
hospitable and to seek out opportunities
to assist and support international
colleagues who visit the University of
Missouri.
67
Helena Meyer-Knapp
2008: Senior Lecturer and Researcher Kyung Hee University Peace Studies
BEGINNINGS
March 3
I spent the day in Seoul today
being “in-processed“ by Fulbright
and getting a cell phone. It’s a
used phone and has an account
that costs $10.00 or so per month.
I don’t need a cell phone much,
but it’s a safety device in a country
where I really can hardly get a
word of language to cross my lips
and I cannot read easily at all yet.
When one travels, the names assigned to bus stops seem pretty random―“Such-
and-Such Elementary School,” for example. But I made my way home successfully
via a subway and bus route that no one had shown me. An adventure.
March 6
I woke up this morning to realize that I have been here ten days. Time really does
fly. I’ve done my first class―ten bubbling students, and more to come next week. I
may promise more fun in class and more participation than some of my older and
rather more severe colleagues. Last week’s formal graduation photo shows you the
full array, missing only Chong Sik Lee, a distinguished Korean-American scholar.
I am looking forward to meeting him.
March 17
I hope that neither my old Japanese friends nor my new Korean ones will be
offended by my instinct to make patterns that compare the two nations. Humans
make patterns all too easily, as my statistics co-teacher at Evergreen used to say.
But like an Asian who sees deep similarities between the French and the Germans,
I find I am making patterns linking the Japanese and Koreans.
A Similarity: The banking systems of these hugely important global trading

companies. They have a difficult time allowing foreigners to actually use their
home-grown banks―the VISA logo on an ATM means nothing. After all, there are
Korean and Japanese VISAs, and then there are those cards whose provenance
simply cannot be ascertained. In Korea, it’s even the case that an ATM that “speaks”
English may very well not accept alien cards. And service in the banks is the same,
too. Take a number and wait your turn. Perhaps 40 minutes.
Differences: There are many. Today’s concerns the food―not the spices, but
the aesthetics. KFC and Starbucks are everywhere. Mickey D’s as well. And they
look similar. I’m talking about the local food. Korean food comes in lots of small
dishes, reminiscent of Japanese food, but the dishes themselves are not pretty. My
Fulbright confidante says, “No, the Koreans are practical.” And that’s true. Some
of the serving dishes have a fine aura―old, ceramic, blackened, and, on the right
day, sizzling with hot rice. But most are institutional china. Chopsticks are metal
here, and, very practically, they come with spoons.
ENDINGS
June 5
Last year, when I began talking about coming to Korea, quite a few people
wondered, “Why Korea?“ Now, in these more crisis-laden times, the reasons a
peace studies specialist might be here are more obvious. But today’s e-mail is
69
going to be about the mundane and not the dramatic. There will be more military
tests and more diplomatic drama. Still, I am reasonably sanguine myself, and like
most people in South Korea, I just go about my daily life.
When I first arrived, this country was brown and grey―frozen grasses, trees
with no leaves, and even the evergreen shrubs had a burned quality to them.
Huge numbers of small patches of ground looked desolate and abandoned. Bare
earth and rocks. Now, four months later, it’s all changed. Those bare patches of
ground turned out to be dozens and dozens of small vegetable patches, and I’ve
commented several times already on Korean passions for flowers. Now we’re
through the peonies and into roses―banks and banks of red climbing roses.
I gave a lecture this week to students in hotel management, entitled “Touring
Seoul with the Eyes of a Peacemaker.” The current national agenda is to sell Korea
as a shoppers’ paradise. It is, in the sense that there’s lots to buy and it’s cheap.
But they are missing the distinctiveness of Korean shopping―those riverside
markets and arcades I talked about. Local retail everywhere. They want to send us
to a vast underground mall. It’s vast, all right, but underground, and the vastness
cannot be seen from any given passageway. The tour guides are also missing the
distinctiveness of Korean scenery―the farming, for instance. Rice paddies are
everywhere―even between the city and the airport. At the industrial scale, it’s
remarkable that so much farming is still happening within the confines of city life.
At the local scale, it’s humane, quite lovely, and incredibly tidy.
June 19
I am sure I will be going back
to Korea some time, perhaps
sooner rather than later. They
have invited me to consider
being an “international
scholar,” and I have realized
that there are things I could
teach students at GIP about
research and analysis,
including ways to approach
data unclouded by emotions,
while remaining connected to rigorous scholarly traditions. More importantly, my
own work stands to gain a lot from doing more here.
In Seoul this week, Rob and I spent a lovely four days ensconced in a tiny
hanok, a traditional guest house I have come to love. Small pond outside the back
door to the room. Table and chairs right there and evening light to sit by. (Plus
bugs―not so nice the second night.) We wandered art museums and temples. We
bought shiny shoes for the UK kids and glittering jewelry for me. We went on a
boat ride on the Han River as a farewell to a beautiful body of water. And I gave a
pretty successful talk at the Fulbright headquarters about the research. Then back
to GIP to pack and clean up the details of life―grades for the students, fifty more
questionnaires to process, one last dinner with the wonderful Chong Sik Lee, and
packing four months of life back into the suitcases it arrived in.
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Seung-chan Choi
2008: Senior Lecturer Korea Advanced Institute Marketing
and Researcher of Science and Technology
Reflection on a Fulbright Experience
I had visited my parents in Seoul many times in the past. However, it was a totally
different experience to visit Korea as a Fulbright scholar. Now I was representing
the US. My role was to connect academics in the two countries via teaching and
research. The past visits were mostly private and short, without many official
interactions or responsibilities. But this time, it was official, with a long-term
commitment. It was a real pleasure to teach classes at Korea Advanced Institute of
Science and Technology (KAIST), where the students were extremely bright. The
student-faculty relations were much more devoted and lasted much longer than in
the US. I was able to work with a prominent scholar at KAIST on a joint research
project. It was very collegial and cordial, a process that resulted in a paper that is
currently under review at a prominent academic journal.
Beyond the official activities, however, the most valuable aspect of the Fulbright
experience is the fact that I gained an entirely new perspective as a foreigner
staying in the land in which I was born and raised. Many things I saw, heard, and
felt were different from what I used to know. Streets were familiar yet somehow
different from my memory. The people looked familiar yet were different from
those I used to know. I attended several cultural events and performances of the
traditional performing arts, some of which were arranged by the KAEC. They
were totally different experiences from what I would have felt as an insider. This
was like discovering the other side of the moon for the first time. This feeling was
amplified when my family members briefly joined me. Exploring the countryside,
including Jeju Island, with my children, who were born in the US and are both in
their twenties, I was able to see things through their eyes. And I was able to see
what I had not been able to see―the culture, the people, and its history. For me, it
was a rediscovery of Korea.
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Sugwon Kang
2008: Senior Lecturer Sogang University Political Science
When I applied for a Fulbright lectureship in 2007, I was already in retirement.

I had qualms about entering this competition, knowing that my success as
an applicant would deny a younger applicant the chance to have a valuable
professional experience. Once I had won the lectureship―which surprised my wife
no less than myself―I could but hope that my return voyage out of Korea would
be as satisfying as I knew my trip over would be, full of hope and anticipation.
I taught at Sogang University in Seoul 2008-09 as a Fulbright Senior Scholar in
the Department of Political Science. Then I was invited last spring to return in the
fall as a visiting professor of history teaching US history, the position I currently
hold. As I look to my upcoming return home at the close of my second year in
Korea, which feels to me like an extended Fulbright appointment, I have the happy
conviction that there is indeed a place in the Fulbright program for an oldster with
a passion for learning.
Did I say “learning”? For me, learning and teaching are but two sides of the
same coin, for the passion for one largely explains the passion for the other. And
when there’s no passion for teaching, the students are the first to know it; they
know when they’re being cheated. It is the teacher’s own thirst for knowledge that
brings excitement and zest to the classroom, there being nothing more thrilling
to students than the realization that they are in some sort of chase alongside their
professor.
Spending two years in the twilight of my professional life teaching Korean
students has been a true privilege; I cannot imagine anything else I might have
done during this time that would have been more rewarding. Watching some of
these famously passive, incommunicative and timid Korean youngsters slowly
transform themselves into lively and inquisitive budding scholars, capable of an
occasional free-for-all in the presence of their professor, all in the course of one
semester, is certainly an experience to cherish. And that’s the reward that awaits
any future Senior Fulbrighter who has something to share and knows teaching for
what it is: a noble calling.
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Robert D. Grotjohn
2009: Senior Lecturer Chonbuk National University American Literature
and Researcher
My first teaching job was at Chonnam National University in Gwangju, South

Korea, from 1981 to 1984. Except for a few weeks in 2004, I hadn’t visited Korea
since the 1980s, but I have a lifelong connection
to the country because I met and married my
wife of 27 years when I was there in the 1980s,
and my son was born there. I have watched
from a distance as the country moved from
an authoritarian dictatorship dominated by
ex-generals to an active democracy, from
economically developing to developed, from
an exporter to an importer of shoes and shirts.
I received a Fulbright as a Senior Lecturer
in American literature at Chonbuk National
University in Jeonju for the 2009 school year.
Last spring, I was able to watch the Lotus
Lantern Festival parade in Gwangju for
▲ The photos are from the day of
the parade. The women in white the first time in 25 years. I remembered the
and blue piled out of the back of
the truck, practiced and joined the
parade, with the lanterns glowing from the
parade. candles inside them, as a magical brightness
in the dark downtown streets. Last year, the magic had diminished. That seemed
a sign of my age: the magic of one’s twenties may dissipate by one’s fifties. Then I
realized that the change wasn’t in me, or at least not entirely; it was in the streets
themselves. In the 1980s, there were few streetlights; in fact, neon was illegal
because of the energy expense. Now, downtown Gwangju glows with neon. What
seemed a disappointing indication of my aging actually was an encouraging
indication of Korean economic progress. The lanterns hadn’t become darker; the
country had become brighter, and in many ways. In the early 1980s, the country
suffered under a repressive authoritarian regime; now, there is a flourishing
democracy. In the early 1980s, it was unwise to mention in public the Gwangju
people’s uprising of May 18, 1980; now, there is a People’s Democracy Park that
celebrates the citizen-heroes of the uprising for the whole country. In the early
1980s, there was little freedom of the press; now, presidents and politicians are
openly criticized in the media and throughout the active Korean cyberworld. In
the 80s, I knew one professor with a car; now, I know no professor without one.
In the 80s, I never saw a tractor on the Honam Plain; last year, I never saw an ox
at all, except in the movies. The magical lanterns may have been dimmed by neon,
but that neon illuminates the magic of the “Miracle on the Han.”
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Soojin Kim Ritterling

2009: Senior Researcher Dulsori Arts and Culture Music
Gangneung Danoje Festival
The Fulbright experience has been positive in every respect. Living in Korea
has provided me with a global view of Korean music that I would have missed
without the support of Fulbright. I have been surprised at the level of international
participation and conscience of Korean music. It was unfortunate that I missed
many of the yearly festivals due to the H1N1 precautions in 2009; however, the
relationships created while contacting and interviewing other Korean music
enthusiasts and professionals have been immeasurably valuable.
My Fulbright experience has enabled me to live within the culture of my
research. The thrill of experiencing everything first hand cannot be described
in words. I feel that the overall product of my research will reflect this unique
experience. I have been very fortunate to make professional contacts and
friendships within the area of my study that will help in the completion of this
research and will assist me as I continue my work in the field of multicultural
Korean studies.
Most notably, the adventure to the Gangneung Danoje Festival has been one
of the most fun and outstanding experiences I have had. The Gangneung Danoje
Festival was designated Important Intangible Cultural Heritage No. 13 by the
Korean Government in 1967 and one of the Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible
Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO in 2005. The first written record of its rituals
appears in the 3rd century Chinese record Sanguozhi (Records of Three Kingdoms)
by Chenshou (233-297), which describes the rituals and celebrations of the ancient
Korean people. One of these was Mucheon, where sacrifices were offered to
the god of heaven and people gathered together to drink and dance. The very
same festival in current times is the Gangneung Danoje Festival in Gangneung,
Gangwon Province.
According to Korean folk
scholar Lee Bo-hyung, the
Gangneung Danoje Festival
has been “passed down
in its original form.“ This
festival is unique, having
a religious ritual for the
tutelary deities that combined
Confucian sacrificial rites
and shamanic rituals as
well as a non-verbal mask
dance drama, the Gwanno
Mask Drama. Under the
Society for the Preservation
of the Gangneung Danoje
Festival, three masters in
religious rituals, shaman
rituals, and Gwanno Mask Drama have taught and guided succeeding generations
to carry on this festival. The Gangneung Danoje involves three main deities: the
Mountain God of Daegwalryeong, Kim Yu-shin; the Deity Guksa Seonghwangsin
of Daegwalryeong, Beomilguksa; and the Goddess Guksa Yeoseonghwangsin of
Daegwalryeong.
In 2010, the Gangneung Danoje Festival began with the Sinjubitgi (brewing of
the sacred liquor) on May 18 (April 5 by the lunar calendar) at Chilsadang, the
ancient government office. Sinju (sacred liquor) is made with rice and malt given
by the Mayor of Gangneung. While Confucian officiants mix the ingredients, a
shaman officiant performs songs and dance accompanied by the florid rhythms of
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percussion players.
On May 28 (April 15 by the lunar calendar), Confucian rituals and shaman
rituals were offered along with the sacred liquor to the Mountain God of
Daegwalryeong and Guksa Seonghwangsin at their shrines atop Daegwalryeong
Mountain. The food and the sacred liquor prepared for the altar were shared by
hundreds of participants. After they shared the meal, a sacred tree was taken
down by a Confucian officiant accompanied by shamans and musicians, and the
observing people decorated branches of the tree with long, colorful pieces of silk
fabric with their wishes written down on them. The Confucian officiant carried the
sacred tree, followed by all the participants, and began the procession through the
narrow, rough mountain road. Finally, the crowd headed down to the city to offer
the Bonganje ritual at Guksa Yeoseonghwangsa, located in Gangneung. The sacred
tree was enshrined inside of Yeoseonghwangsa. Bonganje is a ritual for enshrining
Guksa Seonghwangsin with the Goddess Guksa Yeoseonghwangsin as a wedded
couple during the Danoje. After the ritual was offered, ritual food was shared
again by hundreds of observers. The events of this day began at 10 a.m. at the top
of Daegwalryeong Mountain and concluded at 7 p.m. in the city.
Through these two events, I have been touched by the people of Gangneung
and their kindness and hospitality in accepting others and sharing their pride in
1,000 years of tradition. It was very special and meaningful beyond my ability
to express, a lifetime experience that I would like to share with my colleagues
and students in the United States. I am looking forward to the main events of
Yeongsinje, Jojeonje, Songsinje, Gwanno Mask Drama, and Gangneung Nongak, as
well as other festive events that will be held in Gangneung from June 12 to 19, 2010
(May 1 through May 8 by the lunar calendar).
American Alumni
[ Junior Researchers (U.S. Student) ]

David McCann
1973: Junior Researcher Seoul National University Korean Literature
1974: Junior Researcher Korea University Korean Literature
As a Fulbright grantee in 1973-74, I sat in on Korean literature classes at Seoul

National University and Korea University, met writers and publishers, started
translating Seo Cheong-ju’s poems, attended hearings in the trials against a group
of writers, and went with my father to one of the sessions when Kim Chi-ha was
on trial. I obtained a Korean driver’s license and had to pretend not to understand
Korean at all when a policeman stopped us past curfew on our way through City
Hall Plaza, just one minute from Fulbright House. There were Fulbrighters from
Japan who came through, with Ed Wright the affable and informed host. Charlie
Goldberg, another Fulbrighter, gave a seminar in one of the rooms on the third
floor, a seminar in anthropology for graduate students, which he conducted, to my
utter amazement, in Korean for two hours at a stretch.
I remember joining the writers and editors associated with the journal Changjak-
gwa Bipyeong (창작과 비평, Creation and Criticism), at some of their post-editorial
meeting meetings in the evenings. I would mostly sit and listen as they discussed
works, writers, and the political and social situation in Korea. One writer they
were all critical of was Seo Cheong-ju, whose political views many found worse
than offensive. But then the poet Shin Kyeong-nim, author of that astonishing,
boldly democratic collection Farmer’s Dance, spoke up to say, “Yes, indeed,
Midang Seo Cheong-ju’s political views were objectionable, but his early poems!”
83
Shin went on to cite the poem “Self-Portrait” as a poem that remained central to his
own sense of the poem as a statement of that principle.
I was fortunate to meet a number of poets and writers while I was in Seoul
those two years: Pak Mok-wol, Cho T’ae-il, Kim Chi-ha, Kim Ch’un-su, Kim Nam-
jo, Pak Chae-sam and, eventually, Seo Cheong-ju. My wife and I visited Seo and
his wife over in Gwanak, at their home, and at one point sang a few of Kim Min-
gi’s songs with the poet’s son. Many years later, in 2008, I briefly returned to the
house with some of the experts who were working on the rehab project to make
the house into a memorial for the poet. It was sad to see the state of disrepair into
which it had fallen and to recall the visits there. One of the poems in Urban Temple,
my collection of sijo poems, recalls the visit:
Midang’s House
At the end there is nothing.

Metal gate, hinges broken.
At the end there was hunger.
Someone hired cooked meals and cleaned.
At the end, just the two of them;
outside the gate, the old pine.
My memories of the two years are filled with many joyous moments, especially
as my wife Ann and I made our way around the city with our three-year-old
daughter Kate. I also do realize how privileged I was to be able to meet so many
of the teachers, writers, publishers and others whose work engaged the issues
of that time. I remember them, their seriousness of purpose, and their joy at the
engagement.
Edward J. Baker
1974: Junior Researcher Korea National University Korean Studies
1975: Junior Researcher Korea National University Korean Studies
My Fulbright Experiences
I spent two years as a Peace Corps Volunteer teaching English at the Seoul
National University College of Education while my wife, Diane, taught English
at the College of Education’s attached high school. These were transformative
years for us. This is when we became deeply interested in and attached to Korea.
We still have a number of good friends who were our colleagues or students. (My
colleagues have all retired, and even some of my students have now retired as
well.) We remain part of the extended family we lived with in our second PC year
and have seen them frequently and recently. Father passed away some time ago,
Mother is 95 and going strong, the children have grown up and married, and their
children are now married and beginning to have children.
During my PC days, I got to know Dr. Edward Wright, who was then Director
of Fulbright Korea. When Ed learned that we wanted to stay in Korea for a while
longer, he invited me to work for Fulbright as an English teacher, teaching as
before at Seoul National University College of Education and adding the Hankuk
University of Foreign Studies. This continued an already good experience. During
these years, I began to develop an interest in Korean politics, to learn what the
university students were doing, and to observe the way my colleagues were
85
pressured to try to keep their students from demonstrating against President

Park’s maneuvers to allow himself to run for a third term.
During this period, a group of Americans began meeting regularly to prepare
a petition to the US government to protest its support of the Park regime. We
prepared a petition, and five out of fifty of us signed it as the steering committee
of the “Group of 50”: Reverend George Ogle, later deported for political reasons;
Herb White, who was teaching labor subjects at SNU (as a Fulbrighter, I believe);
Faye Moon, an activist and the wife of the famous Reverend Moon Dong-hwan;
me; and someone whose name I can’t recall at the moment. We succeed in
getting two meetings with Ambassador Porter, whose main concern was getting
a complete name list―which, of course, we didn’t supply. We pointed out that
the presence of numerous brand-new Dodge Power Wagon trucks with the
USAID shield on their doors, bearing loads of riot police to the campuses, made a
mockery of the US Embassy’s claim that the US was neutral. Ambassador Porter
resourcefully “solved” this problem. He had the trucks taken into the Yongsan
base and repainted as Korean National Police vehicles! Our petition survives in
the Suitland Maryland National Archives, and several young Korea scholars have
made copies of it.
In 1969, Ed Wright offered me a job in the Fulbright Office as counselor to
Koreans who wanted to study in the US but were not Fulbright grantees. The
office was then located in downtown Seoul (Seosomun) in Fulbright House, where
most of the grantees lived on the upper floors. Since we wanted to stay in Korea, I
took the job, although I feared that the Korean I had worked hard to learn would
be eroded, because everyone in the office spoke excellent English. I was mistaken
about the office atmosphere. The staff took me in as a colleague and spoke Korean
with me most of the time. In fact, by the spring of 1970 my spoken Korean had
probably reached its peak.
The big event for Diane and me was the birth at Severence Hospital of our son,
Hayden, who is now 41 years old!
So my first experience with Fulbright Korea was as an employee rather than as
a grantee. During the two years from 1968 to 1970, my interest in Korean domestic
politics and the role of the US in Korea really began to grow, starting with the
occurrence of the “East Berlin Spy Case” and the movement to oppose amending
the constitution.
Then I went to finish my law degree at Yale, spending one semester under an
exchange program with Professor Jerome Cohen’s East Asian Legal Studies at
Harvard. Then, instead of practicing law, I decided to become a graduate student
at Harvard in Korean history under Professor Edward W. Wagner, the founder of
Korean studies at Harvard and in the US.
This led me to apply to Fulbright for a doctoral fellowship, which I got. I came
back with my wife, Diane, and son, Hayden, to spend two years doing PhD
research and living in Fulbright House in Seosomun.
This was in 1974, a year and a half after President Park declared Yushin, and
I was privileged to be able to have a grant for two years. This was probably the
most formative period of my development of a serious interest in Korea. At the
very beginning I was interviewed, as I think were all the new grantees, by George
Lichtblau, the US Embassy’s Labor Attaché. He warned me in no uncertain terms
not to get involved in Korean politics (water off a duck’s back). Stunned, we
(the Fulbright grantees) observed the Park regime prosecuting and sentencing
to death the poet Kim Chi-ha (of course, this made Mr. Kim one of the most
famous Koreans in the world), executing eight convicted defendants in the 인혁당
(People’s Revolutionary Party) case the day after the sentences were confirmed by
the Supreme Court, deporting Reverend Ogle for standing up for those men and
their family (incidentally, their convictions have been overturned in the last few
years), bringing arrestees regularly into the Counter Intelligence Corps (military
intelligence) across the street from Fulbright House, and decreeing a series of
emergency measures that even included the logical possibility of students being
executed for cutting class for political reasons (EM 4). What I’ve just recited is only
a fraction of the repressive measures that were being taken. Meanwhile, the US
government stood silently by.
In the spring of 1975, the KCIA forced advertisers to withdraw their ads from
the Dong-A Ilbo, which continued to publish with large blank spaces. Soon,
ordinary citizens moved to put in advertisements that supported freedom of
expression. The Fulbright grantees placed an ad as well, supporting freedom of
expression and signed “16 American friends of Korea,” or words to that effect.
After thorough consideration, we decided not to sign our names, fearing that we
might endanger Korean colleges.
87
For me, at least, the most important event of that spring was a meeting with
Kim Dae-jung. He was under house arrest, as he had been since being spared
during his kidnapping. Doug Reed, a former Peace Corps Volunteer who was Mr.
Kim’s English teacher, asked the Fulbright grantees if we would like to meet Mr.
Kim. We all replied in the affirmative, and soon thereafter Doug took us in the
middle of the day to Mr. Kim’s house in Donggyo-dong. Although he couldn’t
leave his residence, his family could, and outsiders could enter at least part of the
time.
This meeting had an electrifying effect on me. Thereafter, and until his death in
August 2009, I was never out of contact with Mr. Kim.
I could go on to discuss the visit of Congressman Donald Fraser, the most
active legislator in the human rights area, which later led to me working for his
investigative committee, as well as Kim Dae-jung’s exile in the US, including a
year at Harvard, and so forth. But this is not the place to write a book. The key
Fulbright-related point is that Fulbright Korea enabled me to spend the rest of
my life involved in Korean studies and Korean politics. I should add that at the
same time, I did get a lot of research done, working with two eminent professors
(Kim Yong-sup, late Joseon agricultural history, and Park Byoung-ho, Korean
legal history). With Edwin Gragert, I also collected thousands of pages of land
records starting with the beginning of the Japanese period. Life goes in unexpected
directions, and work on Korean human rights issues and for the Harvard-Yenching
Institute prevented me from ever finishing my dissertation.
For our family, the high point of this Fulbright grant period was the adoption in
June 1975 of five-year-old Meejin (aka Elizabeth), who will turn 41 in September!
I am grateful to the Fulbright Korea program for launching me on and enabling
me to have a very satisfying life related to Korea, although I’m sure I have not
followed the expected path.
Laurel Kendall
1975: Junior Researcher Asia Research Center at Korea University Anthropology
Thank You, Fulbright Korea: The Obvious and the Less Obvious
Some things are obvious:

a Fulbright grant gave me
an opportunity to fulfill
my dream of doing an-
thropological field work
in Korea and to return
with graduate training to
pursue my curiosity about
the Korean female shamans
I had encountered a few
years previously as a US
▲ Participant observation: Laurel Kendall at a kut in 1978
Pe a c e C o r p s vo l u n t e e r.
Receiving a “Fulbright” also gave me an important shot of confidence that I
might be able to do field work, write a dissertation, publish a book, and be an
anthropologist. The Fulbright community gave me the encouragement to present
my earliest professional work to an audience that was interested in all things
Korean and ready to give constructive criticism, and it was through the Fulbright
network that I published early articles in Korea Journal. I recall the generosity of the
Fulbright office when my fellowship ended and I remained in Korea on another
grant, organizing my field notes and outlining my dissertation on Fulbright-issue
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furniture, flexing my ideas and learning from my colleagues at Fulbright forums,

some of us subsequently joining forces to organize symposia and edit volumes. I
also recall many kindnesses on the part of Fulbright staff when I returned to Korea
on other projects over the years. Although not at that time “a Fulbrighter,” as an
alumna I was always made to feel a part of the Fulbright family―and in Korea, I
really needed a family.
Some Fulbright associations were quirky and serendipitous, but no less
valuable for that. Last spring, while interviewing collectors of shaman paintings
in an attempt to put together a history of how they had come to be thought of
as art, I spoke with the director of a small private museum outside of Seoul who
reminisced about going to flea markets in the 1960s and 1970s in search of (then)
inexpensive and wonderful bits of Korean folk art. I had these memories, too.
When I asked about other collectors who had been interested in shaman paintings
in those early days, one of the people he remembered was “an American man at
the Fulbright place.” “You mean a tall American who was crazy about antique
furniture?” I asked. “That must have been Dr. Wright.” Affirmative. This small
encounter was one more reminder of how the Fulbright world I knew in the 1970s
was plugged into a world of Korean scholars, publishers, and passionate amateurs
bent on preserving, reviving, and popularizing Korean folk culture, nearly all of
whom attended one event or another at Fulbright House. Who would have known
at the time that Zozayoung (Cho Ja-yeong), who popularized Korean folk art,
would today be commemorated with street tiles down an Insa-dong alleyway?
Who would have imagined that the Yangju Byeol Sandae Nori troupe, rescued
from near oblivion by Dr. Lee Du-hyeon (Yi Tu-hyŏn), would become the nucleus
of an international folk theater festival performed in a geodesic dome theater
dedicated to the perpetuation of their art? I recall helping to escort the troupe to
a Royal Asiatic Society performance, everyone crammed into Ed Wright’s padded
van. It is a small but happy memory. As I begin to look at the culture scene of the
1970s as history, I am profoundly grateful that the Fulbright world allowed me the
opportunity to observe a little bit of it first hand.
Carter Eckert
1981: Junior Researcher Korea University History
As I write today, Harvard is celebrating its 359th commencement. Scattered

among the many graduates of the class of 2010 in the arts and sciences at both the
undergraduate and graduate levels are a considerable number of young men and
women who have studied or even concentrated in some aspect of Koreans studies
during the course of their academic career. Their career paths will vary. Some will
go into business, others into government, and still others into the arts, but in 2010,
as in other years, not a small number will go on to further graduate study centered
on Korea. And some will also take their first big step, newly inscribed doctoral
degree in hand, in a professional academic career in the field of Korean studies,
joining the growing number of scholars who have followed this path since Edward
W. Wagner, generally regarded as the founding figure of Korean studies in North
America, received his own doctoral degree at Harvard and began his faculty
appointment here 42 years ago in 1958.
Today’s young scholars of Korean studies can look forward to a bright future.
Interest in the field is high, more and more universities have added or are adding
Korean studies positions to their faculty, and many of the larger institutions like
Harvard have established Korean studies centers within the university community
to support students and faculty in the field. Indeed, funding for undergraduate,
graduate, and faculty study, research, and publication has never been more
abundant, thanks in no small part to the emergence of organizations in South
Korea such as the Korea Foundation that have made it their strategic purpose to
assist in the development of Korean studies programs abroad.
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Such was not always the case. When Ed Wagner began his career in the late
1950s, or even when I started graduate work in Korean history about 20 years
later, the interest and infrastructure described above scarcely existed. There were
few if any jobs on the horizon, and even if one gritted one’s teeth and determined
to forge on in the blind hope that somehow, somewhere, a job opportunity would
eventually appear if one could get through the eight or so years of graduate study,
there was little in the way of public encouragement and financial support to help
one actually get to that point.
But there was Fulbright/Korea. And what a difference it made. Without
Fulbright support, I, like many if not most of my peers at that time, would most
likely have had to abandon the idea of field research, if not continuing as a scholar
in the field itself―it was just too expensive without that support. And the support
that Fulbright provided was not just financial. Having brought us to Korea and
provided us with comfortable housing and a stipend for food and other necessities,
the Fulbright office, which in my time was headed by the superb team of Mark
Peterson, Fred Carriere, and the legendary Mrs. Shim, was also a welcoming
home away from home and a center of valuable information and assistance on
everything from pots, pans, and laundry to useful and important contacts in
Korean academic, corporate, artistic, and government circles, depending on what
one needed and where one wanted to go. More than that: Fulbright/Korea was
also an intellectual gathering place, where one could meet and mingle with other
scholars of like interests, Korean and non-Korean alike, hear presentations of
new research, and even tentatively present one’s own work to a group of people
who were really and truly interested in what one was doing. Particularly in those
earlier days of Korean studies, it is impossible to underestimate the significance of
Fulbright/Korea not only in keeping the field alive but also in laying the basis for
the thriving field we see today. Thank you, Fulbright/Korea, and congratulations
on 60 years of excellence!
Il Young “William” Byun
1988: Junior Researcher Korea National University Finance and Law
Development: Economic, Personal…and Chili Peppers
My Fulbright year was spent as a researcher inside the Ministry of Finance. The
ministry at the time was at the leading edge driving the industrial policy that was
powering Korea rapidly from a simple trade economy to a more multi-layered
one, while at the same time trying to cope with the transition from a command
economy structure (where they were doing the commanding) to a more generalist
policy―one within the background context of Korea’s nascent democratization
process at the time.
My term was the first time an outsider had been allowed inside the otherwise
closed government ministry in such a year-long capacity, and for me, as a
development economist and lawyer, it was a truly unique “inside view” of
one of the Asian Tigers. The year was a tumultuous one, from being inside the
government offices during the weeklong violent protests against former President
Chun Doo-hwan, to seeing his dramatic apology and departure to a monastery,
to going to Manila when Korea prepaid their last Asian Development Bank loans
and switched to creditor country status, to assisting a inter-ministry task force on
the control of monetary policy formation (only in Korea would such an otherwise
esoteric economic point result in several street demonstrations!). Personally, too, it
was a big departure from growing up in the US Midwest, as Gwacheon at the time
was a bit remote, and the lifestyle there still very local.
To my office colleagues, who were mostly highly proud and nationalistic young
93
bureaucrats in the ministry, it was an intriguing and at times uncomfortable jar

to their thinking to engage in daily Socratic debate with a “foreigner” who always
seemed to take the devil’s advocate view. While common in US law schools, it was
an unheard-of departure from their Confucian training up until that point. For
many of them, too, it was one of their first encounters with a Korean-American,
who seemed so similar to and yet so different from them, and our mutual curiosity
led to very personal and deep friendships over the years. Both parties being of
similar ages, these experiences gave us very personal and poignant mirrors into
what alternative lives and paths that we may have otherwise led (“If I’d emigrated/
stayed, that could have been me”), and such thoughts, if not spoken, were always
in our minds in that reflective after-glance.
One insight into the unintended consequences of democratization and
industrial policy: during the previous year, due to pressure from the US to open
Korea’s agricultural markets, the government had encouraged farmers to diversify
from staple crops to higher-margin vegetables such as…chili peppers. Well, when
the government suggested chili peppers, everyone switched to growing them, and
in the following year there was a significant glut of chili peppers. In the farmer’s
thinking, since it was the government’s “guidance” that had led them to grow the
chili peppers, the government was obliged to buy their excess at support prices.
Just as adamantly, the government wanted to introduce free market pricing
mechanisms, and it refused. After the usual rounds of demonstrations with
massed clashing waves, Molotov cocktails, tear gas, etc., a face-saving compromise
was finally adopted whereby some support was provided. But where to put all
these additional chili peppers? Some of them went into new overseas aid programs
to which Korea was just switching over (from aid recipient to donor), and some
South Asian countries may have been a bit puzzled at the sudden donation of mass
quantities of chili peppers. The rest somehow ended up in that year’s government
cafeteria menus, which were possibly some of the most painfully spicy on record―
and which happened to coincide with the remainder of my Fulbright term.
Elizabeth Underwood
1996: Junior Researcher Yonsei University Sociology
Flying into Kimpo Airport in the summer of 1996, I realized that my relationship
with Korea and with the United States was forever going to change. Although I
had been born and raised in Korea (by American parents also born and raised in
Korea), thanks to the Fulbright foundation my relationship with Korea was now to
become my own.
As a graduate student in sociology at the University of Illinois in Urbana-
Champaign, I had initially embarked on a study of family demography, the field
in which I took my qualifying exams. But as I approached the idea of writing
a dissertation, I realized that my real desire was to explore the experiences of
Western missionaries in Korea around the turn of the twentieth century. Although
this was in part my own family’s history, it was an issue that perplexed me,
particularly as I compared what I knew of that history with the literature on
similar encounters. Too often, it seemed, such encounters were seen only from the
perspective of how Westerners impacted “the other.” Rarely did scholars consider
the ways in which Koreans, and the experience of being in Korea, influenced those
Westerners, and I knew, from my own family, that there was nothing “one-sided”
about those encounters.
Much of my research into the impact of Korea on the missionaries could be
conducted with materials in the United States, but I wanted to confer with Korean
scholars, to access Korean materials, and, frankly, to think about this encounter in
95
Korea. As a parent and graduate student, however, the prospect of finding a way
to do so seemed prohibitive. By funding my research in Korea, Fulbright provided
me not only with finances for my research, but, more importantly, with an identity
as a serious American scholar, an identity which gave me much-needed confidence
to make the best use of the time I had been given for research.
In retrospect, particularly in a typically busy semester in my current position of
Associate Professor of Sociology at Eastern Kentucky University, the idea of nine
full months for self-guided research, plus the opportunities of research assistants
and access to scholars at Yonsei University, Seoul National University, and
beyond, seems unimaginably luxurious. But as I arrived in Seoul, my “hometown,”
I was terrified. How could I best use this gift of time for study? Would I find the
materials I needed? Would my language skills be sufficient? And perhaps the
biggest question of all: would I be able to write? But being in Korea accompanied
by Alison, my then four-year-old daughter, provided me with a fabulous lived
connection with my missionary ancestors. They, too, had combined parenting with
work in Korea.
They, too, had struggled with issues of their child’s cultural identity and a
desire to help that child bridge the “cultural divide.” In fact, it was as a parent that
I was best able to come to identify with my Korean neighbors and, in turn, with the
past. Although this may not be universally true, I have found that in parenthood
we are forced to acknowledge the common humanity we all share. What I found
in my research was that this was true for many of my ancestors, and other early
missionaries in Korea as well.
Perhaps the greatest benefit I received from the grant was precisely the
opportunity to make my own life for myself with my daughter in that land of my
childhood. Had I not had that opportunity, provided by Fulbright, to take my
daughter with me, I’m not at all sure that I would have had that insight.
Kate Hers
2000: Junior Researcher The National Center for Korean Performance and
Traditional Performing Arts Visual Art
Fulbright Reflections
It has been ten years since I traveled to Seoul on a Fulbright Junior Research
grant. It was my second time back since I was trans-racially adopted in 1976. I
was awarded a scholarship as a performance artist to develop my artistic work
in relationship to Korean traditions, and I had already made contacts with the
National Center for Korean Traditional Performing Arts, where I had done a
residency in 1997 during my first visit.
My life during my Fulbright was full of turmoil, struggle, and crisis. However,
it was also a time of learning, enlightenment, and self-transformation. In 2000, it
was still a great effort for overseas adoptees to live in Korea. We had just gotten the
right to the gyopo (Overseas Korean) visa, which allowed certain overseas Koreans
from the 1.5 generation, second generation, and so on to get special residency
status with evidence of Korean ancestry. However, adoptee support organizations
based in Korea were quite nascent. G.O.A.’L (Global Overseas Adoptees’ Link), for
instance, had just begun officially in 1997. Back in the day, it was tough looking
Korean and not speaking any. Without the support of the Underwood family, I do
not know how I would have survived my time there.
I took language courses at the Korean Language Institute for a few months and
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started to try to make work. This was a very complex and awkward point in my
life. I was extremely young, I had just graduated from art school, and I had not
yet developed my artistic practice out of school. I was trying to be an artist, but I
was not sure of what I should be making. I was so overwhelmed just by living and
working in Korea. I was in search of a Korean identity―something that I assumed
was fixed and “authentic.” I never found that, and rightly so.
Later, I realized I had been taken in by stereotypes and clichés about the “Far
East”: mysterious, exotic, and raw. Now that I am older and less brainwashed by
Western colonialism, Korean identity to me is not so easy to explain; its fluidity, its
evasiveness, and its fierceness all make for a complicated mishmash of emotions
and relationships. Being adopted had made it even heavier to understand and
more difficult to be accepted.
At this point, I can see that being Korean can be without boundaries, as any
culture should. Otherwise, we become fraught with stereotypes and prejudices,
because “as you know, Koreans are just like that.” Thus was born the frightening
and damaging model minority myth. I find it much more provocative and
empowering to recognize that as Koreans, we cannot be straightforwardly labeled.
We have so many different skills, talents, occupations and interests. We hold
different political positions, religions, and lifestyles, and as a diasporic people,
we live scattered all over the world, holding different passports, languages, and
cultures. Nevertheless, where I would not mind being typecast as a Korean is in
being extremely multi-dimensional and tolerant of others.
Deberniere Torrey
2004: Junior Researcher Sogang University Comparative Literature
and Yonsei University
Five Years Later: Reflections from the Finish Line
If not for my Fulbright year in Seoul, I would have had to switch courses midway
during my doctoral studies. The Department of Comparative Literature at Penn
State, where I was starting research on the influence of Western Catholic thought
on pre-modern Korean literature, was happy to facilitate my taking supplementary
Korea-related courses at other American universities for a semester or two. But
what I didn’t learn until later was that the particular courses I needed were not
offered anywhere in North America at the time. To continue my intended plan of
study, I would need to spend a year in Korea sitting in on university courses. The
sponsorship of the Korean Fulbright Commission made this possible. And it did
much more by providing everything necessary for the transition to a year in Seoul,
and by giving me an affiliation that opened doors.
Just a few days after arriving in Seoul in August 2004, I made contact with a
number of professors at Sogang University, and I was soon auditing five classes
and participating in two study groups to spread my net as wide as possible while
I had the time and energy. This gave me the initial exposure I needed to better
define my course of study, and by spring I was able to narrow my load down
to the two most necessary classes and to commute between Sogang and Yonsei
99
Universities with no administrative

hassles. Although I had grown
up in Korea, the framework of
the Fulbright fellowship allowed
me a more professional base of
involvement with Korea and better
opportunities to connect what I was
doing in the US with the Korean
academic community.
There were many serendipitous
meetings with people who pointed
me along and expressed support,
including one Fulbright colleague
▲ Nathan and I at my childhood home in Gang-
who facilitated some of my key won Province, dressed for a congratulatory
contacts. Just the week before I party one year after the wedding in the US.
left Korea the following summer,

circumstances fell into place for me to meet an important scholar in my field
who happened to be visiting Seoul, and who generously agreed to join my
dissertation committee as a special member. He had also been a Fulbrighter in
Korea many years before, and his show of support, which later proved crucial to
the successful completion of my degree, was a continuation of the attitude I found
throughout the Fulbright community that year. Indeed, in addition to practical and
administrative support, the Fulbright Commission provided a warm and energetic
community of fellows. There were many stimulating conversations and events, as
well as friendships that have continued to be a source of pleasure. The members of
the staff at the Fulbright Commission were truly gracious in their assistance, and
knowing there was always somewhere to turn for the solution of practical issues
freed me from many worries.
After I returned to the States, my studies carried on with a bit less momentum
than I had enjoyed during the year in Seoul. But one “interruption” had to do with
meeting a kindred spirit who had joined my department while I was in Korea. It
must have been destiny, because we not only had adjoining desks, but even shared
the same advisor. And this new guy, who wasn’t Korean, even liked squid and
octopus! So we courted over my spicy ojingeo and his eggs and octopus, and ended

up getting married at Penn State two years ago. One of my Fulbright fellows made
it to the wedding―with all four kids, no less.
As of this writing, I’m happy to announce the successful defenses of our
dissertations. By the time this is printed, I should be officially finished with my
degree. (And there were days when I was convinced I would never finish.) Nathan
and I are camped out in Middlebury, Vermont, for the time being while Nathan
lectures at the college and I continue with a long-term translation contract that was
one of the many things made possible during that year in Seoul with Fulbright. I’m
looking forward to applying to positions in Korean culture and literature when we
go on the job market in the near future.
On a lighter note, here’s something from a newsletter I sent out to friends and
family during my Fulbright year. I was describing all the things that were falling
into place for my academic salvation:
Another providential trend I’ve noticed is that I frequently acquire a piece of

information―person, historical event, etc.―just prior to meeting a scholar who
mentions the very thing, which means I can nod confidently and look intelligent,
whereas just a couple of days or weeks before I wouldn’t have had the slightest
idea. I feel a bit like the hero of a comic adventure who, in the confusion of a mad
chase, happens upon an object that turns into just the tool she needs to avert the
next catastrophe. I suppose I could think of these cases as “narrow aversions of
ignorance.”
To Fulbright, for helping me stay on the upside of this adventure, and for
strengthening my ties to Korea.
101
Franklin Rausch
2008: Junior Researcher Korea University History and Religion
Community, Korea, and Fulbright
My wife and I were excited but also nervous about my coming to Korea on a
Fulbright. While I can get by in Korean, my wife only knew a few phrases. How
could I concentrate on my studies while helping her adjust to the country and take
care of our one-year old son?
Our fears turned out to be unfounded. The Fulbright staff kindly helped us
transition smoothly into life in Korea, and we enjoyed the friendship of fellow
Fulbrighters. Much of my wife’s concern melted away when a Korean friend
came to visit, not only bringing gifts for our family (including a lot of toys for our
son), but lunch as well! Her lack of Korean proved no obstacle to making friends;
she found many at the playground among the mothers who wanted to practice
English. I also was fortunate in that through Fulbright, I was able to enter into a
community of Korean scholars who helped me greatly with my research. (I hope I
was of some use to them, too!)
Our time in Fulbright reminded us of the importance of community and of how
the kindness of others can ease the manifold difficulties of life. We hope to live out
that lesson here in the United States. We still carry warm memories of Korea and
the community we found there, and we share them with our friends and family.
Once I finish my dissertation and obtain my PhD, I hope to share them with my
students as well!

Katherine Lee
2008: Junior Researcher Seoul National University Archives Ethnomusicology
I must admit that I was already quite familiar with the Fulbright Building well
before I was blessed with the opportunity to become a Fulbright junior researcher
(2008-09). In 2001, I went to Korea to study the Korean language at Yonsei
University as a Blakemore Foundation fellow. One of the first trips I made with
new friends in my class was to Mapo-gu to see a Fulbright Forum. Although Mapo
is only a stone’s throw away from the Yonsei campus, we still managed to get lost.
Asking for directions with our rudimentary and faltering Korean language skills,
my friends and I navigated back and forth along the same side of the street before
we were finally able to locate the Fulbright Building. We arrived a few minutes
late and took our seats in the sixth floor conference room. Although I was a bit
flustered, I was immediately drawn into the talk and captivated with the artwork
that was presented. The speaker was the late Andrea Rosenberger (1973-2008)1 ,
who was a fiber artist conducting research on the effect of historical Korean textiles
on contemporary Korean fiber art.
My friends and I stayed for the buffet reception, introduced ourselves to
Andrea, and ended up meeting several people who shared similar interests in
1 Andrea Beth Rosenberger tragically passed away on October 26, 2008, due to natural causes. She was a
graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the Cranbrook Academy of Art, where she received her
B.F.A and M.F.A., respectively. Rosenberger, a Korean adoptee, was awarded a Fulbright research grant to
Korea to study Korean fiber arts in 2001. She worked at Dell as a senior designer.
103
Korean culture and the arts. After that first forum, I was hooked. I signed up to
be on the mailing list, and dutifully managed to attend the Fulbright Forums on a
regular basis that year. Getting to the building became less of an adventure, and I
even settled upon a favorite route: straight out of the Gongdeok subway station,
past the restaurant with a giant crab on its façade, and through the alley with the
tiny and quiet restaurants populated with the occasional ajeossi. In retrospect, I
suppose that I enjoyed attending the forums because it was a chance to learn about
new areas of research being explored in Korea and to engage in dialogue about
Korea. With my grueling daily schedule of language studies, it was refreshing
to be able to hear presentations in my native English and to converse with other
graduate students and researchers. And without fail, the impressive spread that
was prepared for the reception afterwards always managed to have some morsel
of Americana that satisfied any cravings that I may have had for food back home.
After I finished the Yonsei Korean language program, I started working full
time in Seoul, and I found it more difficult to attend the forums regularly. But after
living in Korea for a number of years, I soon found myself befriending quite a few
Fulbright grantees through various networks. Later on, some of these friends came
to give forum presentations themselves, many of which I made time to attend.
When I returned to Korea in 2008 as a researcher and went to the Fulbright
building to “check in” for the year, I observed that the area around the Gongdeok
rotary had changed significantly. New bakery cafés were now sandwiched into
prime locations, and some of the old landmarks, like the giant protruding crab,
were no longer to be seen. Knowing how quickly the topography of Seoul changes
in the name of progress, I was not surprised, but I was a little saddened not to scan
some of the visual cues that had been
imprinted upon my memory.
And as it turned out, the Fulbright
building itself underwent major
renovations during my research year. The
old sandstone face of the building was
replaced with a granite exterior. This was
a project that took several months, but
▲ The Fulbright Korean Studies Dissertation
by the time I was about to leave Korea
Support Group (FKSDSG) and our last
in late October 2009, the scaffolding had meeting in June 2009

▲ Fellow Fulbright grantee Aimee Lee and myself with Kenya Casey
(Emory University)
disappeared, and the building was restored and looking fresh from its face lift.
There was one thing that I came to realize in my last meeting with the staff and
Mrs. Shim at the Fulbright office: in the midst of change and the rotating cycles
of new and departing grantees and scholars, the staff at the Korean-American
Educational Commission have remained a grounding presence in my experiences
over the years. They are the ones who are in the office day in and day out, fielding
and answering our questions, dealing with our issues, processing our stipends,
and overseeing a tremendous amount of paperwork that facilitates our momentary
sojourn so that we may be privileged enough to just focus on our research. When I
gave my own Fulbright Forum talk in May, I noticed that members of the Korean
staff had prepared some of the dishes for the reception; the staff also served food
to the attendees and cleaned up afterwards. I was touched by their generosity and
their graciousness, especially since the normal hours of the workday had been
well exceeded by that late hour. The KAEC staff are the people behind the scenes
who ensure that the massive operation that is Fulbright Korea flows smoothly
and continues to develop and grow. Many of them have had longstanding ties
to Fulbright themselves. They often go unnoticed, because this is how they
themselves perhaps prefer it, and because we sometimes forget to remember
the anchors of support that remain steadfast in place as we embark on fledgling
105
journeys and get caught up with the business and busy-ness of research and life in
Korea.
With sincere gratitude, I would like to thank all of the staff at the KAEC for
their professionalism, their dedication, and their warmth.

American Alumni
[ English Teaching Assistants (ETA) ]

Fred Yeon
Grant Profile Host
2001: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Pyoseon Commercial High School
My time as an ETA in Jeju Province was poignant in terms of my understanding of

my heritage as well as my connection to the Korean people and culture. While my
time teaching at a co-ed commercial high school in a remote corner of Jeju Island
was challenging, it was the charisma of my students and the faculty members that
yielded the most formative memories that I have from my time in South Korea. I
also worked as a Summer Coordinator for the 47 incoming grantees in 2002. Both
of these experiences allowed me to embrace challenges in a humbler and more
positive way. I am thankful for my time as a Fulbright Scholar.
P.S.: One of the best moments in my life was when I assisted the Brazilian national
soccer team when they played on Jeju Island, since I was born and grew up in
Brazil. As they would become the Korea/Japan World Cup champions, this was
one of those moments that linger with you through life.
109
Charles B. Chang
Grant Profile Host
2003: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Jungwon High School
How Has Fulbright Korea Impacted Your Life?
As a Fulbrighter in Korea, I found exactly what I was seeking as a young college

graduate: a dynamic balance of learning and teaching in an international
context. My grant year was a spirited medley of English teaching, Korean study,
Taekwondo, volunteering, and interpersonal exchange with community members,
and although it left me with hardly any time to myself, it was wonderful. My
Fulbright experience shaped me in many ways: it sparked a number of linguistic
research ideas, including the line of work I am currently pursuing in my
dissertation; it brough t me closer to family I had not seen for years; it made me
much more of a global citizen
sensitive to cultural and personal
differences; and it showed me
how important it is for people
of all backgrounds to participate
in these sorts of international
exchanges. Moreover, I really
grew to love the host country. It
is no accident that I have been
back to Korea almost every year
since the end of my grant!

JohnDre Jennings
Grant Profile Host
2004: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Icheon High School
OH KOREA
What you mean to ME

Korea
Distant in mind
near in heart
smiles remind me of the beautiful skies
and cloudy rains
the view could touch you deep inside
do you remember?
small friends
American people, black faces
strange language barely known but understood
I am sitting near a distant pond in

Gyeongju
town of ancient wisdom
when smells of a beachy river
fill my eyes with tears
and I think of the difficult lifelong memories
that make m e stronger
I wanna cry out to the distant
temples Cry out to my GOD
while listening to the ancestors’ wisdom
111
If I could I would
draw dancing fairies
in the mist of Korea’s tallest mountain
as I stood on the peak
and whispered
beautiful sayings to them
ask them to tell the
coming angels of
Joy, Peace and Laughter
I remembered- I remembered
one day one beautiful day
while sitting silently in the mist
of the clearest view
that one could see
my hair was wild and bushy
My spirit was wild
And the colors were purple
orange and blue
bright bright blue
as time traveled
again and again for me
I think of some African berries
Oh they taste like the sweetest wine
hmmm.
Being drunken in this bliss
is OK just fine
to me and my body
cause I am happy
no more sad songs
love stories
gone wrong
only the light of my
grandmother’s whispers
caught in this reality of a dream
I am
Oh Korea Morning Calm

you are my haven away from the hells
I face in the parallels of a strangeness
I have never known
You are truly a blessing.....

Aimee Jachym
Grant Profile Host
2004: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Gumi High School
Korean Kids & Orphanage Outreach Mission (“KKOOM” or “꿈”)
Korean Kids & Orphanage Outreach Mission (“KKOOM” or “꿈”), a U.S. 501(c)
(3) nonprofit organization, was founded in September 2007 by Fulbright Korea
ETA alumnae Aimee Jachym (2004), Erika Senneseth (2004), Lauren Derebey
(2005), Colleen Kohashi (2005), Leanne Stein (2005), and Robin Kim (2006), all of
whom taught at secondary schools in Gumi, North Gyeongsang Province, and
volunteered at Samsungwon, the orphanage there, during their ETA grant years.
KKOOM is an all-volunteer endeavor that exists to improve and enrich the lives
of orphans and other children living in orphanages and group homes in South
Korea through first hand engagement with donors, volunteers, orphanage staff,
and children. KKOOM is funded overwhelmingly by individual donors, many of
whom are connected to the Fulbright Korea program.
Before KKOOM was founded, the “Gumi ETAs” hosted ad hoc fundraising
campaigns around the Christmas holiday in 2004, 2005, and 2006, delivering
clothing, toys, umbrellas, and school supplies over that three-year span. The Gumi
ETAs also launched the first ever “spring parties” at Samsungwon in the spring
of 2006 with a legendary spaghetti dinner. The staff and kids at Samsungwon still
talk about how delicious Colleen’s “special spaghetti sauce” was. The first spring
party was an important step of “cultural exchange”―it was the first time foreigners
(non-Koreans) were ever allowed to cook in the Samsungwon kitchen! Before that,
local volunteer teams had come by to prepare gimbap and other Korean foods for
the kids, but the kids had never had a hearty, genuine American-style spaghetti
113
dinner. We have since found out that there may have been a “secret backup plan”
to feed the kids dinner that night in the event that our efforts fell short. That plan,
however, has never been revealed, and we have cooked several meals for the kids
since then, including tacos, hamburgers, and several styles of spaghetti. Also made
legendary at that first party was the American-sized ice cream sundae. We bought
large tubs of ice cream, toppings and chocolate sauce and sugar-infused the kids
for hours. It was an overnight sensation, and now there are very few KKOOM
events that don’t involve ice cream. With that said, we should note that KKOOM
does readily supply toothbrushes on at least an annual basis, and we do offset
those calories with high-energy activities.
One of the things that has been most rewarding for us as Fulbright alumnae
running KKOOM is the constant connection and interconnection we have
been able to maintain with Korea and Fulbright Korea, despite our inability to
travel there frequently. For instance, the Samsungwon orphanage staff are well
acquainted with the “한미교육위원단” and call all of the Fulbright ETA volunteers by
their full title, “한미교육위원단 원어민 선생님”―which is impressive, given that many
ETAs’ schools do not refer to ETAs by the correct name. Many KKOOM volunteers
and supporters have also served as ETA Orientation Coordinators (13 in three
years), so the inter-relations between KKOOM and Fulbright Korea are somewhat
inseparable, even to the point that the orphanage staff ask about Summer
Orientation planning and when the new ETAs will come to Samsungwon. We’ve
also now seen KKOOM grow to the point where it is being cited in application
materials as a reason why people want to come to Korea on Fulbright ETA grants.
Around the Internet, you can find blog posts about and videos of our annual
holiday party, which is an overnight affair where we invite volunteers―many of
whom are Fulbright ETAs and junior researchers―to come and host an all-day
party, complete with pictures with Santa, a gingerbread house-making contest,
and individual gifts for all.
Another point of pride for KKOOM is that we have expanded beyond Gumi
and now support orphanages in several other cities, including Seoul, Daegu,
Deoksan, Seogwipo, and Seosan. We have been able to do so by partnering with
volunteers and identifying specific needs that the children and orphanages have.
As a matter of policy, KKOOM does not give money directly to orphanages or
orphanage staff; rather, it uses its funds to purchase goods, via its volunteers,

directly for the children at
the orphanages. To date,
more than 50 Fulbright Korea
alumni have been involved in
KKOOM-sponsored events
and projects at orphanages
throughout Korea. Volunteers
in Korea can now apply for
KKOOM “volunteer-led
project” funding through
an application process we
▲ Joan Lee, Erika Senneseth, Laura Tschop, Kimberly
launched in the winter of 2008. Cheong, Aimee Jachym, Leanne Stein
KKOOM hopes to continue
expanding its network of volunteers and trusted orphanage contacts so that it can
replicate the very specialized work it does at Samsungwon at other orphanages
throughout Korea.
Finally, the most exciting news for KKOOM is that we are in the midst of
launching an International Education Program, which will connect kids at Korean
orphanages directly with native-English speaking tutors and teachers in America
via Internet video conferencing. KKOOM plans to develop and implement its
own curriculum, which will be taught by trained volunteers and delivered to
the kids via a KKOOM-provided computer―this is a great testament to the true
globalization of our world and the kind of change Korea has undergone in the 60
years of Fulbright Korea history. In addition to the English education component,
KKOOM also plans to provide an opportunity for orphans to visit the US on a
short-term KKOOM-led study tour. Initial seed money has been secured, and those
plans are under development.
Since its inception, other ETA alumnae―Kimberly Cheong (2007), Jessica Lee
(2007), Joan Lee (2007), Amber Rydberg (2007), and Laura Tschop (2007-08)―have
also served on the KKOOM board of directors. The KKOOM board members of
past and present, all proud ETA alumnae, currently live throughout the US and
Mexico and serve in their communities in such capacities as lawyer, vice principal,
foreign service officer, university administrator, teacher, grad student, and future
doctor. To learn more, please visit www.kkoom.org.
115
Alexis Stratton
Grant Profile Host
2006: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Jungang Girls’ High School
My experience as an English Teaching Assistant with Fulbright Korea was a

profound one that continues to have an impact on my life years after my grant
period ended. Not only did my work at Yeosu Jungang Girls’ High School, Camp
Fulbright, and the ETA Orientation Program reconfirm my intense desire to teach
(as well as give me teaching experience that has been invaluable in my career), but
the cultural knowledge and understanding I gained during my time in Korea also
vastly changed and expanded my worldview as well as my interests.
I’m currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing, and the time I spent
in Korea has given me plenty to write about―particularly regarding cultural
differences and similarities, philosophies, and so on. At the same time, I feel I am
better able to master the academic challenges brought on by my literary studies,
particularly when trying to understand multiple perspectives, differing views
on gender, class, culture, race, etc., and the theories and literature that I read
and discuss in my courses. Additionally, the teaching and pedagogical training I
received helped prepare me for my work as a teaching assistant and, in the future
(or so I hope), as a professor.
Furthermore, there are a number of (smaller) things I would not be doing
right now were it not for my time in Korea. For example, I’m currently taking
Taekwondo at a dojang right here in Columbia, SC; I regularly visit the Korean
market and have, over the years, experimented with Korean cooking (sharing it

with friends, of course); I’ve learned Korean and have had Korean friends and
conversation partners who have enriched and are enriching my life; and, for better
or worse, I have a constant and intense desire to return to Korea whenever possible
(I hope that’s in the cards for my future). Korea continues to fascinate and elude
me, and I’m grateful I’ve had the opportunity to experience Asian culture, grow
close to my homestay family and coworkers, and teach classrooms full of giggling/
sleeping/attentive/cell phone-using students.
Although I’ve tried here, it’s almost impossible to put into words the vast and
lasting impact that my life in Korea has had on me. There are the obvious, tangible
effects, but I think it’s the intangible ones that will stay with me the longest―the
opening up of a world and a place that was (and yet sometimes still is) far beyond
me, the memories and changes that have left a mark on so much of what I do and
who I am.
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Sara Shin
Grant Profile Host
2006: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Cheonan Dujeong Elementary School
and Cheonan Yonggok Elementary School
My Reflection
Going to South Korea through the Fulbright program was one of the most
memorable experiences of my life. It wasn’t always easy living with a Korean
family and working with Koreans, but I grew tremendously from the experience.
I learned more about myself, and I also learned how to work closely with people
from a different cultural background. Although I was born in the States, I’m
ethnically Korean and my parents are from Korea, and so I have always been
interested in Asia, and specifically North Korea. During my stint in South Korea, I
was able to travel around Asia, and I even peeked into North Korea while standing
in a boat on the Yalu River, which separates China and North Korea. My time
spent in and around Korea reaffirmed my desire to do work related to that part of
the world.
I firmly believe in the mission of the Fulbright program―to better relations
between the United States and other countries by using education as a tool.
Having participated in the Fulbright program in Korea, I can attest to the value
of providing Americans with the opportunity to be exposed to different cultures.
Both the Fulbright participants and natives of the host country learn to work
and live harmoniously with each other despite their different backgrounds and

lifestyles. A unique aspect of the Fulbright program that makes it stand out
among other teaching programs in Korea is that Fulbright ETAs are not assigned
a rigorous teaching schedule, but are instead encouraged to engage in activities
beyond the classroom and serve as cultural ambassadors for the United States. In
the process, Fulbright fellows are able to learn more about the host country and
engage in new and enlightening experiences. Specifically in Korea, the Korean-
American Educational Commission prepares Fulbright participants well for their
year in Korea by being a constant resource for all things Korean, recommending
everything from good Korean language programs to must-eat Korean foods.
In the same way that more communication and interaction tend to draw
people closer, greater exposure can bring countries together. The more Americans
and Koreans learn about each other through mutually beneficial cross-cultural
programs like Fulbright, the better the relations between these countries will be.
At this point in history, as countries become more interdependent and globally
minded, we must make an even greater effort to invest in such relationship-
building programs if we hope for a world in which nations are more committed to
thriving together than bringing each other down.
▲ Sara Shin with fellow Elementary ETAs participate in a winter language program 2006
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Michelle Lee Jones

Grant Profile Host
2006: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Hannam Middle School
My ETA grant with Fulbright Korea has helped make what once felt like a pipe
dream of pursuing graduate studies in Korean history into a concrete goal that
I will accomplish step by step. I was happy to be placed in Gwangju, since I
was able to learn more about the uprisings of May 18, 1980, and had numerous
opportunities to improve my knowledge of Korean history.
Despite my eagerness to study and live in Korea, I remember being very
nervous about living with a host family for a year. Ultimately, this was one of the
most important and special experiences made available to me by Fulbright. My
host family really helped me see Korean culture from a perspective that I couldn’t
have experienced if I had lived on my own. I learned about family traditions,
care for the elderly, women’s issues, generational gaps, the 386 generation, youth
culture, and more. I bonded emotionally with my host family and was able to
share Korea with my American family and America with my Korean family. Years
later, I am still a monthly pen pal to my host brothers, and I hope that by the time
they are in college, I will be in graduate school in Korea!
At ETA orientation, I was able to meet amazing peers and increase my
awareness of global educational inequities during a project in Burma that I helped
start with friends Margaret Mahoney and Anurag Gupta. ETAs from the Fulbright
Korea classes of 2006 to 2009 volunteered time during the winter break to train
teachers in Burma, bring resources to libraries, and raise funds for special projects
to improve a school. We also shared our project at the Gwangju International

Center and at international fairs. Being able to contribute to a school in Burma only
made us more passionate about our work in Korea and the impact ETAs can have
on education worldwide.
I still maintain a close relationship with Korean and American friends made
during my grant, and we’re all using our Fulbright network to motivate one
another and pursue the goals we set during our grant. I am so proud of the ETA
class of 2006-07 and the strides we’ve made in the past few years to take what we
learned in Korea and apply it to our careers.
▲ Michelle Lee Jones first weekend with her ▲ This was taken in my 2nd year in Korea
homestay family when my mother came to visit me. It was
so special sharing my love of Korea with my
mom, and spending time with both mother
figures who encouraged me to accomplish
my goals during the grant.
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Laura Tschop
Grant Profile Host
2007: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Galsan Elementary School
Everything I needed to know I learned teaching in South Korea. My two years

living in Galsan, South Korea, taught me a lot about how to be a successful teacher.
Teaching every student in my school reminded me of the importance of having
different expectations for different students and knowing how to put this into
practice effectively. I learned how to differentiate for different grade levels and
class personalities. I realized it’s okay not to have all the answers. Over the course
of two years, I learned how to reuse and perfect lessons so that they were executed
the way I wanted them to be the first time. Often, the most significant learning
took place outside of the classroom walls. Even a moment can be meaningful.
Kindness from strangers in a new
place makes that place seem a little
more like home.
Now, as an elementary school
teacher in the United States, I often
think back to my teaching experience
in South Korea. I am so grateful to
the school staff, the teachers, and,
most importantly, the students. They
gave me a unique experience with
▲ Galsan Elementary School, Decemeber 2008,
another culture’s education system. I Kindergarten students learn about winter
holidays and pose for a picture.
will forever be indebted to them for
teaching me how to teach.

Nicole Guarino
Grant Profile Host
2007: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Ara Middle School
I was fortunate enough to spend two very different years in Korea through
Fulbright: one as an ETA and another as the Executive Assistant at the KAEC
offices. People will sometimes ask me which year was “better,” expecting me to
choose either the busy city life in Seoul or the more quiet pace of Jeju, but each
year presented its own challenges and offered its own rewards. Working with
energetic and earnest students, knowing and loving a Korean homestay family,
learning the inter-workings of the Fulbright Scholarship Program and basic
diplomacy, befriending Korean and American grantees, professors, students,
teachers and coworkers―all of these made me reconsider my career track as a
mathematics teacher in the US. I never thought I would become interested in
international relations or foreign languages, but here I am today, hoping to start a
career in international education or continue working for government sponsored
exchanges like Fulbright. The program in Korea established new interests, goals,
and friendships, and I am forever thankful.
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Laura Johnson
Grant Profile Host
2007: English Teaching Yeongcheon Girls’ High School
Assistant (ETA)
I find that Americans’ awareness of Korea is peripheral at best. Most people know
that we fought in the Korean War, and that North Korea has been a “bad news”
kind of place for decades. Sadly, that’s where it ends. I’ll admit that I did not know
much beyond that when I first arrived in Chuncheon in July 2007.
I spent a year gathering experiences and stories. I traveled, spent time really
getting to know my students and co-teachers, and taught myself to commit to the
moment. As I told my Korean family and friends about my life back home, I was
always mentally recording...and editing...and writing. I was learning too much
and discovering too many things to let anything
be forgotten.
I did a great deal of actual writing while in
Korea, but now that I’m back in Colorado I find
that I prefer telling stories aloud. My studies were
in English, specifically linguistics and creative
writing, but when I left college I still didn’t know
how to tell a story so as to bring people the truth
of the experience.
Now I tell stories about Korea every day, and
they feel true and real. Korea is in my blood now.
I hope that those who hear me speak can better
understand South Korea, the vibrant, fierce little
country that I still consider a home.

Kenny Loui
Grant Profile Host
2008: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Youngil High School
Being an ETA, Making a Difference
The Purpose of the Fulbright ETA
What is the purpose of the Fulbright English Teaching Assistant? I think that is
a question that most―if not all―new ETAs find themselves asking after the end
of their first semester, if not sooner. I did, at least, after my own first month of
teaching…
According to the Korean-American Educational Commission (KAEC), the role
of the ETA is as follows:
Your role as an ETA is to teach conversational English as a native English-

speaking teacher in a Korean…school. However straightforward this may seem,
your role as a teacher is a great deal more dynamic and complex…. You are also
a co-worker, a friend, a consultant, an expert, a novice, and, of course, a cultural
ambassador. (ETA Teaching Manual 2008, pp. 8-9)
In brief, the purpose of the ETA is to teach conversational English to Korean

students. But unlike native English-speaking teachers from other programs, the
Fulbright ETA is also expected to play the dual role of English teacher and “cultural
ambassador.” So what happens when an ETA begins to question his or her role―
specifically, the validity and value of his or her role―as an ETA? I can’t speak for
other ETAs, but in my own case, doubts about my “effectiveness” as an ETA have
stemmed primarily from students’ initial attitudes and behavior.
125
I had many expectations―both good and bad―prior to my arrival in Korea.

But for the most part, I naïvely thought that most of my students would be very
well-behaved and attentive in class, and that I would encounter few behavioral
problems, if any. My first time walking into the classroom, however, I was greeted
by several sleeping students and others chatting amongst themselves―even as I
was trying to introduce myself! Of course, this experience is not representative of
all my classes, but it still serves as an illustration of how reality can significantly
differ from one’s preconceptions.
My Reasons for Becoming an ETA
In the months prior to graduation, I had a few options from which to choose,
including the Fulbright English Teaching Assistantship, a fellowship for Korean
language study, and a full-time job offer from the FBI. Needless to say, deciding
among the three was difficult, and after much thought and deliberation I chose
both to take a break from studying and to turn down what was, for all intents and
purposes, my “dream job” in order to accept the Fulbright grant. As an ETA at a
Korean high school, I hoped to satisfy my desire of making a direct and positive
impact on the lives of others sooner rather than later. But after a semester spent
dealing with sleeping and rowdy students, I began to have doubts as to whether I
was making any difference at all.
Class 1-3: Redemption

With regard to student misbehavior, the overall situation began to improve
slightly during the spring semester due to a variety of factors―including, but not
limited to, altering the way I conducted my lessons (learning from mistakes made
during my first semester) and bonding more with my students. On that note, I
would like to briefly mention the students of Class 1-3, whom I taught during my
second and final semester at Youngil High School. Class 1-3 could be considered
my lowest-level class in terms of English proficiency, as well as the highest in
terms of disorderly conduct―at least initially.
I’m still not quite sure how to explain it, but during the course of the semester,
Class 1-3’s behavior improved for the better―improved, in fact, to the point of
becoming the most well-behaved class of all the ones I taught during my grant
year. As I mentioned before, their English level was not as high as that of the other

classes. But what Class 1-3 students lacked in English proficiency, they made
up for in diligence, and because of that, I did everything I could to ensure that
their motivation levels remained high―chatting with them in and outside of the
classroom, encouraging them to “keep up the good work,” and urging them to
continue to “do your best.”
The Student-ETA Relationship

Each ETA has a different philosophy and approach to fostering relationships
with his or her students. In determining the type of relationship I wanted to have
with my own, I evaluated my dual role as an ETA―namely, as a teacher and as a
cultural ambassador―and ultimately decided to emphasize my role as a cultural
ambassador.
Although I had only 16 class hours to teach each week, I found myself
doing a lot of “overtime” work: my typical workday was 8 a.m. to 7 p.m., and I
occasionally stayed until 10 p.m. on certain days. Youngil High School essentially
became my life for one year. For better or worse, I was and always have been a
workaholic, but being a workaholic was not my only reason for staying at school
so long each day. I also wanted to talk with and get to know my students better
(even the “troublemakers”), and the only time to do that was during the breaks in
between classes, as well as during lunch and dinner. I genuinely enjoyed the time
I spent with my students outside of the classroom―learning about their interests,
motivations, and dreams, and relating to them on a one-on-one level. I also did
what I could to liven up their long days of seemingly endless study by walking
the hallways during the breaks, chatting and telling jokes. In brief, my students’
welfare was my number one priority.
Endgame: Did I Make a Difference?

All in all, my year as an ETA was an enriching experience, to say the least. I had
the chance to serve in a mentor role for several students, helping them discover
their dreams and develop plans to pursue those dreams. I also helped students
prepare for essay and speech contests and, in so doing, improved (hopefully!)
their confidence with English. In my lesson plans, I worked hard to emphasize
community service and volunteerism as well.
During my final month of teaching, I had students give presentations on “global
127
issue” topics of their choice, ranging from school violence to global warming. My
objective was to get students to think about the important issues and problems
facing their communities, both at the local and international level.
One student’s presentation, in particular, I will never forget―not because of the
amount of effort she put into researching her topic or practicing her speech, but
because of the way she concluded it. At the end of her presentation, Jo Sun-hee,
a student from Class 1-6, told her classmates, “It is our responsibility to save our
world.” A few other students’ presentations, in which they used their particular
global issue to discuss their dreams and aspirations for the future, had messages
as insightful and as moving as Sun-hee’s, which touched my heart:
• Lee Kwan-hun (Class 1-2), whose dream is to someday become the Korean
Minister of Education, criticized Korea’s education system and its emphasis on
“studying as the only way to success,” and noted that although “earning lots
of money and getting a good job is the goal of most students…success in this
world should be [defined as] having kindness and humanity.”
• An Young-joo (Class 2-7), who wants to become a doctor, shared with the class
her desire to help others regardless of their socioeconomic status: “It makes my
heart hurt to see some doctors cure only patients who have money.”
• Bae Ji-eun (Class 2-5) wants to be a pharmacist so she can “help many sick
people.” She doesn’t want only to “give medicine to people,” but also to “share
[their] sorrows and joys.”
• Jo Ye-eun (Class 2-2) said that she would like to work with UNICEF some day
so that she can “help poor children and give them visions.” She ended her
presentation by saying, “I think helping others is the most important thing in
our lives.”
I concluded my teaching year with a final goodbye to the faculty and students
in the school auditorium (plus a very elaborate surprise party from Class 1-3―
complete with cake, balloons, confetti, and a “farewell/thank you” speech
presented by the students). That day put to rest any doubts in my mind about
whether I had made the right decision in choosing to become an ETA. I left Youngil
High School realizing that I actually had made a difference in these students’ lives.
That being said, I still wonder whether it was I who had the greatest impact on my
students, or they on me.

Jane Lee
Grant Profile Host
2008: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Cheonan Ssangyong High School
ONE
I vividly remember my first week at Cheonan Ssangyong High School. Each day
for five days, I impatiently waited in the gyomusil (teacher’s room) to walk into
each of the 12 new classrooms filled with 40 new faces. It was like I was child
again, waiting to open a gift under the Christmas tree. I was enthusiastic and eager
to meet the students. That Wednesday morning, as I slid open the door to Class
1-8, I was immediately greeted with applause and one very loud student blaring
the words “Hello, Jelly!” That was my first encounter with Kim Min.
Kim Min always yelled in class. It was the same frequency whether he was
asking to use the restroom or telling me that my dress was too yellow and that
it made me look like a banana. His dream was to be a professional rock singer,
and he was notorious at school for experimenting with his hairstyle. At the end of
each lesson, I usually commented on how his hair looked even crazier that week
than the last. I went so far as to have pictures of cartoon characters ready on my
desktop to display to the class. All the students found our rapport very amusing.
I used this as an opportunity for the students to practice their English, holding
weekly debates on who looked worse, Kim Min or Jelly.
One Friday afternoon, Kim Min’s homeroom teacher, Mr. Jang, approached me
during the cleaning break to tell me about Kim Min’s disappearance. Unbeknownst
129
to me, he had been gone for two whole days. The homeroom teacher and Kim
Min’s parents were at a loss. Neither party knew what he was doing or where he
was sleeping. It was at that moment that my role as a teacher became merged with
the role of guardian. I felt an obligation to protect and provide security for this
student. I didn’t know how, but I knew that I needed to find Kim Min. Luckily, he
did not know I had his number, and he picked up my phone call that afternoon. I
casually asked him to hang out with me on Saturday, bribing him with pizza and
a visit to the noraebang. He reluctantly agreed.
Kim Min, his best friend Han Bin and I met at noon in the Mr. Pizza across from
Yawoori Mall. For four hours, we discussed everything from 2NE1’s newest song
to Mr. Jang’s baldness to family life. I shared some of my experiences growing up
in New York, and the boys shared stories about their lives in Cheonan. They both
felt immense pressure from their parents over school, grades, and future goals.
Kim Min expressed his desire to quit school, move to Seoul, and become a rock
star. I assured him that whatever profession he pursued, he would need at least a
high school degree, and that English was a very useful skill to have in the music
industry. It was through this conversation that I was further convinced of my role
as a guide to help Kim Min find his way. He trusted me.
By the time we finished our trip to the noraebang, it was about 6 p.m. and the
sun had begun to set. As their guardian for the day, I asked the boys when they
would be heading home. Kim Min got very upset at the question and stormed off
to the nearest pool hall. I didn’t immediately chase after him. Knowing well that
he would not listen to words, I needed to show him through action. So I acted on
a simple fact that had I learned through Fulbright: the way to a Korean’s heart is
through rice and kimchi. I went to my favorite bokkeumbap restaurant to order
takeout. I took the food back to the pool hall. Inside, I held out the bag to Kim Min
and said that even if he wasn’t going to go home that night, he should take care to
eat well. I added that it would be nice to see him on Monday. As I handed him the
takeout bag, I saw Kim Min’s eyes watering. I felt hope.
On Monday morning, I gathered my things from my desk to head to class. As I
made my way out of the gyomusil, I saw Kim Min and his father walk toward the
office. As I was about to turn to corner, Kim Min stopped and, for the first time,
bowed and called me “Teacher.” The day I was leaving for America, I received
a text message promising that he would stay in school and graduate. We have

remained in contact since my departure. Kim Min writes to tell me about his
newest hairstyle or the newest teacher he supposedly hates. I recently received
an e-mail saying that he would be interested in going to college. Next winter, I
will go back to Cheonan to watch Kim Min graduate from Cheonan Ssangyong
High School. I went into my Fulbright teaching year with one goal: to impact one
student’s life. This one is Kim Min.
131
Brian Wylie
Grant Profile Host
2009: Elementary English Cheonan Ssangjeong
Teaching Assistant (EETA) Elementary School
Is the experience of a Fulbright

ETA free of difficulty? Certainly
not. In between making new
friends at Orientation, meeting
the Korean family in whose
home you will be living for
a ye a r , a n d wo r k i n g w i t h
students and teachers who are
as eager to learn about you
as you are about them, there
▲Family picture on Geoje Island are challenges―challenges
inherent to living in another
country, to not sharing a language or understanding the nuances of a different
culture, to being a part of a new, Korean family and to feeling disconnected from
your own back home. But sometimes a funny thing happens, right when you are
otherwise overwhelmed with the misunderstanding and being misunderstood.
It starts with being reminded, maybe through an e-mail or a phone call, or while
simply daydreaming, of something from home that makes you wish you were back
there. Hopefully, you then have a brief moment of clarity, when you accept that it
is okay to miss those things and to be overwhelmed at times, because you know
that you will return home sometime soon. But most importantly, you also realize
that you will likely never have another opportunity like this, and neither will most

of the people you’ve met or will meet in your life. So you resolve to try again to
be an adopted Korean son, daughter, sister, or brother, to have the patience that
you should with cute, if rambunctious, seven- to twelve-year-olds, and even to
eat kimchi for breakfast―and you end up learning something, just as I have, not
only about Korea, but also about yourself. And that makes all the challenge worth
it. And, in the words of one very wise Executive Director, if you can survive the
challenge of living with a Korean family for a year, then you can survive just about
anything!
133
David Libardoni
Grant Profile Host
2009: English Teaching Geumsung Middle School
Assistant (ETA)
When we think of the relationship between the US and Korea, we tend to focus
on the big picture―our military alliance, economic partnership, and mutual
interest in a secure, prosperous East Asia region. But what Fulbright has done for
six decades, and will hopefully continue to do for dozens more, is to strengthen
our relationship on a much smaller yet no less important scale. Fulbright is about
people, plain and simple. The exchange of ideas that happens every day between
American citizens and Korean nationals, teachers and students, and researchers
and scholars contributes to a deeper understanding of each other and each other’s
culture. What we share are stories, values, interests, dreams, and passions, some
with similar characteristics and some that are vastly different. The interactions
are face-to-face, giving us the chance to find common ground, appreciate our
▲ETAs at a Kia Tigers baseball game ▲My Taekwondo class in Naju

differences, and ultimately shape a much more human perspective on what
America and Korea represent. As Americans living and learning in Korea, we
are challenged to be cultural ambassadors, a title that carries much weight but
not a clear job description. We must embody something greater than ourselves
yet still stay true to our individuality. It is a delicate balance, and as a Fulbright
English Teaching Assistant I faced this challenge every day in and outside of my
classroom. When I look back on my Fulbright experience and my time in Korea, I
remember the people I met the most and the understanding we achieved together.
That is my relationship with Korea, and it is my hope that those I formed close
bonds with along the way will have the same relationship with the United States.
135
Elizabeth So
Grant Profile Host
2009: Elementary English Teaching Assistant (EETA) Seowonju Elementary School
I’m an Eonni
One hot day in mid-August, after six weeks of a busy and demanding orientation,
my fellow ETAs and I gathered for our homestay announcements at the Fulbright
Building in Seoul.
During this time, the 70 ETAs were in a room, sitting in rows of desks arranged
as though for a standardized test, and the general nervousness was also like that
experienced before a test. The small space made it difficult for our orientation
coordinators to distribute the thin, long strips of paper with details of our year-
long abode, and each time I saw an OC filing sideways down my row, my heart
fluttered at the thought of the homestay revelation. I felt a little bit like an eager
puppy at the pound, awaiting adoption: “Oooh, please pick me, pick me! Please
put me with a nice family, with kids!”
I did receive my slip soon enough and skimmed across the different phrases
and codes. My family information included: “Girl (9), Elementary School 2nd
grader. Girl (9), Elementary School 2nd grader.“ Was this a typo, a slip of the
Ctrl+P keys, or did I really have the awesome luck of being placed with twin little
sisters?
One of my goals for my program year was to experience jeong, the Korean
concept of a deep bonded relationship that English words cannot adequately

explain. After months of living with one another, I know my host sisters will
always be dongsaengs (younger sisters) to me. I know that for many years to come,
I will miss the twins and the spontaneous dance parties we performed with cell
phone ring tones; hearing them call out “Eonni, eonni!” as soon as they got home
from ballet academy, eager to show me their new dance moves; being chastised
for my hatred for jjajangmyeon; and always counting on them to explain facets of
Korean life and answering questions about my home country.
Perhaps I realized the depth of our bond when I heard that one hostsister,
having been told to select an English name for her hagwon (private educational
institute), decided to choose my name. The Fulbright experience of living and
growing and teaching and
learning has been best
illustrated by my interactions
with my two host sisters.
How better could I learn
about Korea than from young
children? My host parents
would often tell me, “We are
so lucky to have you live with
us,” to which I would always
reply, “No, I am truly the
▲ Elizabeth So with her homestay sisters at their home
lucky one!” in Wonju
137
Carolyn Straub
Grant Profile Host
2009: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Oh Sung Middle School
희 망 [Hui:mang]
희망. It means “hope.” This may sound clichéd or overly dramatic, but it is true.
Coming to Korea has given me hope for a different life. The person who arrived
in Korea is not the same person who is leaving Korea. The life I expected to lead
when I arrived, that plan, has been ripped apart and thrown out. What living in
Korea has taught me is how to embrace the world outside my comfort zone and
treat each day as an opportunity for discovery.
I remember the first time that I stepped inside a real Korean middle school
classroom. Thirty-five students stared back at me expectantly. There was cheering,
there was yelling, there was a lot of attention―and I was scared. Having come
from years of debate and public speaking training, I wasn’t expecting stage fright!
But there it was: fear. Learning to teach at my school was a lesson in acting: how
do I pretend that I am confident and ready to take charge? Even when leaving the
classroom, I had a new family at home to meet, learn about, and interact with.
At first it was exhausting―working so hard at school to entertain and engage the
students, and then working hard at home to be the perfect guest. But despite the
work, both have been incredibly rewarding.
It’s been nearly one year since I came to Korea, and while I am infinitely more
comfortable than I was, I am still confronted daily with new and interesting

situations. Just last week, I was walking to class, and when I arrived there were
no students. Little did I know at the time, but apparently all of the classrooms had
changed that week! Then there was my taxi ride to the train station yesterday―I
guess my blonde hair makes me a bit conspicuous, and my driver decided that it
would be fun to practice English on the ride over. While this sounds harmless, we
almost got into two wrecks! I have stories about learning to brave the bidet, getting
lost in Seoul, sharing my iPod with strangers on the bus, and discovering favorite
haunts.
Every day I live in Korea is an adventure
full of surprises and spontaneity. No day
goes by without something unusual and
fun happening. Although I came to Korea
with a plan for the future mapped out,
I am leaving with a blank page. While
looking down at a blank page would have
scared me before, it excites me now. I do
not know what my life will be like when
I return to the States, but I hope to bring
back a lifestyle that embraces the unknown
and the uncomfortable, because for me, a
life without surprises and adventures is no
life for me. And so thank you, Korea, for
giving me 희망 by opening up a world of
possibility.
139
Sarabeth Craig
Grant Profile Host
2009: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Gumi High School
During my first lesson of the semester, I instructed my new students not to call
me “Teacher.” If an American high schooler yelled “Teacher!” to get my attention,
it would sound rude, I explained. I realized it was the opposite situation in Korea,
where calling a teacher by their name without the formal “Teacher” title after it
would be very disrespectful, but I couldn’t help the fact that it hurt my ears to be
called “Teacher”! “Just call me Sarabeth,” I said, assuring them that this really was
my preference.
As the year progressed, some students called me by my name, but the majority
could not get past their Korean instincts and inevitably threw up their hands and
called out, “Teacher! How do you spell...?” To my surprise, the title grew on me.
After watching students interact with other teachers, I subconsciously began to
understand the implications of being called “Teacher.” In Korean culture, where
everyone is referred to according to their relationship with the speaker―an older
brother or sister, an aunt or uncle, senior or junior―being called “Teacher” is an
honor.
Eventually, I stopped correcting students who called me “Teacher,” and I began
to take it as a compliment. In fact, it made me smile. When they called me “Teacher”
in Korean, I felt even more flattered. I couldn’t be more different from them―
white skin, blonde hair, perfect English, and a childhood experience dramatically

different from theirs. But when they called me “Teacher,” I felt that they saw past
those differences and respected me―perhaps even looked up to me. In so many
ways, I respected my high school students as much as they respected me. As a
high school student in America, I would never have dreamed of spending more
than six hours at school, sacrificing swim team, gymnastics, piano lessons and
painting, all so that I could study a second language required for acceptance to a
good university. I have been inspired by them to sacrifice for my own dreams, to
pursue my goals with fervor, and to not be afraid of giving more than is required.
The approximately 900 students I have taught and learned from during my 2009
grant year in South Korea have also given me a deep appreciation for my life up
until now. Simply because I speak English, I have been handed opportunities my
students only dream of. Never once have I taken an English ability test to prove
my written or conversational capacity. Never once have I thanked my teachers for
teaching me to read and write in English, perhaps the most important language in
the world today.
My early days teaching in Korea left me full of pity for my students, watching
their agonizingly long days of studying that will not reduce the stress of their
inevitably competitive future. Building relationships with my students taught
me this was the wrong attitude. They don’t feel sorry for themselves; they just
look ahead determinedly. Never in my life have I encountered students like these.
141
Ironically, never in my life did I think I would enjoy the role of “Teacher,” either.
My experiences have led me to consider pursuing education in my future, a future
that seems to have infinitely more doors now than it did before I arrived in South
Korea. The doors were always there, but I needed my hard-working students to
call me “Teacher” about 1,000 times before I realized it. This powerful title will
always be special to me, an imprint on my life that cannot be erased.

Sarah Slagle
Grant Profile Host
2009: Elementary English Teaching Assistant (EETA) Hanbat Elementary School
It’s Like They’re Cheering Me On
I was standing alone in the shaded concrete jungle that is the Daejeon train station
when I really got to thinking about what I was doing and how I got here. I thought
to myself, “How am I here? Where am I going?” In literal terms, I was going to
Gwangju to celebrate another Fulbrighter’s birthday at a Kia Tigers game. But in
that moment, I was focused on the bigger picture. I was casually going by myself
to a city about two hours by train from my neighborhood, in a country whose
language first appeared to me as pictures and scribbles of men with hats (the “ㅎ,”
of course). When I first started, I felt like “Annyeonghasimnikka (안녕하십니까)” was
the longest word possible―and it only meant “Hello.” Yet ten months into my year
as a Fulbright ETA grantee in Korea, my trip to Gwangju was as easy as walking
down the street to the supermarket.
When I first got to my placement, I felt uncharacteristically anxious about
traveling by myself. During college, I had traveled solo in Europe and loved it―
the freedom of choosing where to go and what to do is great. But what I didn’t
realize until arriving in Korea is that I had relied heavily on linguistic similarities
and a decent knowledge of European history and geography. Although there is
“Konglish” to help newcomers get by, many words like “room,” “reservation,” and
“ticket” are not guessable. If you don’t know, then you just don’t know, and that is
143
frustrating. I felt like I couldn’t be a fully independent person in the beginning.

Two things helped change this. First, my Korean language skills shot up to a
level where I didn’t have to charade my way through daily life. I learned the words
for getting one ticket for a specific time on a certain day, and so on. I also figured
out how to make a motel reservation over the phone or in person. If I go into a
restaurant, I know enough food names to choose the thing that I really want to eat
rather than one of the “not eel” options. All of these communication improvements
have added monumentally to my happiness. The second thing was somewhat
unexpected, yet really appreciated. The Koreans I meet seem to be cheering me on.
Yesterday I was at a school dinner, and while I was pouring water for some older
teachers, Hwang Teacher commented that I acted like a Korean. Other times, I get
told that I use chopsticks well and speak Korean really well. Whether these things
are true or not is beside the point. The Fulbright Korea ETA orientation taught me
how to get on the good side of Koreans, and it’s paying off. Even the middle-aged
cashier at Daejeon Station smiled respectfully at me when I checked the price with
her: “오천원요?”.
Having this two-way flow of respect has encouraged me to have deeper
relationships with people I meet in Korea, and also to seek out Koreans who have
moved to the US when I go home. I now feel at ease around Korean people, and
I do my best to allow them to feel more comfortable around me as a foreigner.
And while I can’t expect to transform relations between Koreans and Americans
completely, I do feel that my role as a Fulbright ETA has allowed me to impact
perceptions of “the other” on both sides. This was most made clear to me when my
parents visited this spring and put their travel photos on their Facebook pages.
People who originally didn’t know Korea from Japan were discussing everything
from bibimbap to the new, electronic touch maps in the Seoul subway.

Sarah Walker
Grant Profile Host
2009: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Yeongheung High School
Teacher, On Call
Korean students say and do outrageous things. Girls almost pass out from
overexertion after watching a Justin Bieber music video. Boys offer mementos of
their own gray hairs, plucked just a moment before by their obliging friends. I
once had a student explain that because American troops successfully completed
the Incheon water landing, I am an invader, and thus owe him reparations of
continuous chocolate. But these things do not only happen inside my classroom
or during the school day. This is the essence of my Fulbright experience: I am a
teacher constantly and willingly on call.
I came to Korea as an academic, ready to share my knowledge and be the best
cultural ambassador in Fulbright Korea history. But what I hadn’t planned on was
what would become my enthusiasm for the most straightforward goal of the ETA
program: to shape the lives of my students and allow them to shape my life in
return. I hang out with them when I’m not on duty because I have learned that the
best teaching experiences come from granting students a monopoly on my time.
In early November, I wanted to spend more time with my students, and so I
voluntarily instituted office hours once a week during evening self-study. Many
studentsat first all boys―came and went, but a certain group of five to seven boys
became a loyal gang. We played Bananagrams, had dance-offs, and arm-wrestled.
Once, I lost a bet and had to free-hug the first student I saw in the hallway, who
145
happened to be a nervous first grade boy. “Teacher, why…?” he began. Instead

of explaining in Korean, my office hours boys only laughed. When girls started
coming, my classroom also became a place where hearts were broken, and I took
on the night job of romance counselor. I know these boys were using this time
as an excuse to avoid self-study. But their English conversational ability became
something to behold as they “avoided” studying. And I gained a posse.
The first snow of the winter started on a Wednesday night two days before the
end of the fall semester. Around 11 p.m., I received a text message from one of my
office hours boys. “Are you seeing?” it read. “This is first snow!” The message left
me feeling euphoric, both because of the snow and because he knew to send it,
even at that hour. There was poetry to it that got to me a split second before the
content did: “Are you seeing? This is first snow!” His second-language grammar
belonged in an e.e. cummings poem.
The next day at school was a day of barely contained ecstasy for my students,
who rushed outside between periods, and during periods, to throw snow at each
other with their bare hands and classroom dustpans. I promised one student a
snowball fight at lunchtime. First he told me that he couldn’t in good conscience
throw snow at a teacher―and then he shoved snow in my mouth. After our fight,
both of us drenched in wet snow, he bought me a can of coffee and showed me
how to rub it against my face for warmth. “Teacher, today was funny. Thank you,”
he said, with a degree of brevity not easily faked in a second language. When I
went back into the teachers’ room, my stringy hair and muddy pant legs garnered
more than a few curious looks. Other teachers sleep during their lunch breaks.
I live every hour, every day as a teacher―a role for which Fulbright trained me
well. Nothing makes me giddier than when my students ask if we can go to Mr.
Pizza on an evening off from self-study―if I foot the bill, of course. There’s never
been a better day off than when I came to school anyway on physical test day and
watched my kids sprint and push-up and sit-and-reach their way to glory. At such
times, I find myself bowled over by love for them. The moment I realized that my
students were the best thing about my Fulbright year, twenty hours of teaching a
week hardly seemed fair. What was I supposed to do with the rest of my time?

Rachael Maureen Williams
Grant Profile Host
2009: English Teaching Assistant (ETA) Jeong Myung Girls’ High School
A New Kind of Family
I had no expectations upon arriving in Korea. I knew very little about the country
beyond what I had learned from basic study of the Korean War. Apart from the
alphabet, hangeul, I didn’t know the language, and I had never tasted Korean food.
To the amazement of my fellow ETAs, I had never heard of the K-pop sensation
Rain, and I had never watched the beloved Korean drama “Boys over Flowers.”
I have no family history here, and I know few Korean-Americans. However,
because of an innate desire to travel and challenge myself with new experiences, I
decided to come to Korea as a Fulbright ETA.
My new life in Korea began on July 5, 2009. I arrived in Seoul with 70 other
Americans who shared my job title of English Teaching Assistant (ETA). Although
we would be together for the next six weeks, we would eventually separate and
travel to different parts of the country, teach in different schools, and live with
different families. Over eleven months have gone by since that separation, and
in that time I have shared many stories with my colleagues. From sharing, I have
learned several things about my life in Korea so far: 1) middle school girls are
probably the most difficult students to teach conversational English to; 2) the
members of my host family are very caring and generous people, and I am lucky to
147
have them; and 3) living as a foreigner in Korea is very difficult, but the experience
is even more rewarding.
As a foreigner, I face many challenges each day. I am constantly reminded that
I don’t belong in this country. I have red hair and blue-green eyes, and at 141 cm,
my height is overwhelmingly regarded as above average. Beyond the physical
attributes that set me apart from the homogeneous Korean population, I can only
speak very basic Korean. Although I can usually understand what is happening
and being said around me, I cannot express my own opinions or desires.
Thankfully, I live with a family whose members want to speak English and share
their culture with me. My Korean family has included me in everything that they
do: birthday parties, family outings, Chuseok, and other family activities. I am
very lucky that at the end of the day, I can go home to people who have grown to
understand me.
Since my time with Mr. Kim, Mrs. Jang, and their family, I have become
grateful for the hospitality they have provided to me. I am always included in
family events, and when I have been sick, they have taken care of me as though
I were one of their own children. My host family understands American culture,
and so they know that I need to have personal space and freedom to do things
independently. The balance between family and personal time is what I appreciate
most. In America, independence is important to every individual. Because my host
family can recognize this, it has allowed me to grow closer to them during the time
that we do get to spend together. When we spend time with their extended family
I feel a sense of kinship that reminds me of my family at home. Although my host
family is very different from my family in America, their care and understanding
have me regarding them less as my host family and more as my Korean family.
I think that the homestay experience is one of the most important factors of
my experience here in Korea. I have been very happy with my new family, which
has made my overall experience here more positive. On days when teaching is
difficult, I can tell my host mother about it. When something good happens to me,
I always want to share it with them. I have missed my American family very much,
but because they couldn’t be here with me, I am grateful that I have a Korean
family who can.

American Alumni
[ Short Grant Program Participants ]

Gary J. Kaasa
Grant Profile
1984: Summer Seminar Grantee
It was early spring of 1984. I remember the phone call as if it were yesterday. A
student aide came to my classroom and told me that someone from Washington,
DC, was on the phone and asked if I could take the call. I knew immediately
that it was the Fulbright Commission and that I had been accepted for a summer
Fulbright Grant. I left my third hour class to go to the social studies office.
The Fulbright representative and I had a long conversation about the grant. No,
I had not been accepted to India, the country for which I had applied; however,
I had been accepted to the South Korea program and was urged to accept the
tremendous opportunity. I did so on the spot, knowing that grants of this nature
were extremely rare for public high school educators. Being a recipient of a
Fulbright Grant gave me a sense of accomplishment and professional validation.
My association with the Fulbright Commission and all the experiences and
knowledge that came with the grant added to my degree in anthropology and my
teaching experiences at the high school and community college levels, changing
my teaching forever. Of course, the experience in South Korea was incredible.
From Busan to Panmunjeom, from Seoul to Jeju, from the anthropological study
of the Korean culture and society to the economic insights of this emerging power,
the seven-week Fulbright program was highly organized and insightful. Especially
enlightening was the high-powered access to Korean economists, educators,
historians, and political and religious leaders. It was an educational experience of
the highest level, and over the next fifteen years I passed on my knowledge and
experiences to thousands of students.
151
The summer program in Korea was not the only Fulbright experience that
altered my life and teaching career. Below is an account of career alterations
brought on as a ripple effect from the Fulbright grant:
• Because of my Korean ex-

periences, I began teaching
economics and Advanced
Placement Economics rather
than history.
• For several years, I served on
the panel to select Fulbright
grantees in Arizona.
• Through Fulbright contacts,
I was elected to serve on the
Arizona Council for the Social
Studies.
• With contacts made through
the Council for the Social
Studies, I was offered the
opportunity to edit and
develop a curriculum for
a book, produced by the Arizona Historical Society, on the Arizona State
Constitution.
• Because of my Fulbright and Council experiences, I was selected to serve as
part-time Social Studies Coordinator for the 1,000-teacher school district in
which I taught.
• I was able to visit Japan because airfare to another Asian country was part of the
Fulbright summer program to Korea.
• In 1987, I led a team of school district educators to Japan as part of an
educational tour made up of teachers and curriculum specialists from the
western United States.
• The South Korea program was my first overseas travel and the beginning of
many overseas travels, including trips to China and Tibet. Asia continues to
have an allure for me. I am visiting Mongolia this summer.

• Upon retiring from teaching ten years ago, I established a political consulting
firm that has advised many of the most influential political leaders and
organizations in the state. I believe the experiences and background resulting
from the Fulbright Grant provided a strong foundation for this opportunity.
When evaluating the success of the Fulbright program, there should be a

consideration not only of the academic knowledge of the host country gained, but
also of the positive influence it has on the professional growth of the individuals
involved. For me, that was an essential part of the experience.
153
Kyong-Mal Kim
Grant Profile
1988: Summer Seminar Grantee
Having gained unimaginable experiences meeting great and distinguished people

through the Fulbright Travel Abroad Program, ten years later I became a principal
advisor to then South Korean President Kim Dae-jung in 1998, while he was
meeting with President Bill Clinton during the Korean economic turmoil known
as the “IMF Crisis,” as well as the Se Ri Pak period. After the Presidential meeting,
President Kim Dae-jung sent an aide to convey a message to me: “This was the best
Presidential meeting I have ever had in my life. This was because of your advice.”
I was born in Japan and educated there and in the USA, and Fulbright was a great
learning experience for me.

Alumni
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Alumni

Senior Lecturer/Researchers ························ 9

Junior Researchers (U.S. Student) ················ 81

English Teaching Assistants (ETA) ·············· 107

Short Grant Program Participants ··············· 149

As an editor of the Korean Fulbright Alumni

Dr. Sung-Wook Jung

Junior Researchers (U.S. Student)

English Teaching Assistants (ETA)

Short Grant Program Participants

Yongsan. Beside teaching various classes at Yonsei University and Sungkyunkwan

I carefully prepared for this opportunity. Drexel University in Philadelphia

Fulbright Research Fellowship. He said, “You will encounter a totally unexpected

Surprise North-South Announcement, July 4, 1972

At 10 a.m. on July 4, Pyongyang and Seoul announced three national principles

I remain interested in investigating negotiations. Another topic I was curious about

Edward John Shultz

Remembering Life in Fulbright House

distinguished scholars, and occasionally peers, delivering research reports, events

in part due to the sociopolitical inconsistencies an d contrasts that were on the

The Indigenization of Methodology

Values, Development, and Character: Appraising Korean Experience

Exploring Korean Values

The Indigenization of Methodology (revisited)

The Science of Subjectivity: Methodology, Identity, and Deep Structures

1. I taught metal arts courses to sophomores,

2. At the beginning, I faced a little difficulty

5. Before my departure back to America in 1983, I helped to organize a young

6. Before my departure for the US in

7. From 1984 to 1998, because of my academic and professional influence and

1994-95, Fulbright Senior Exchange Scholar to Korea

I introduced Korean students and artists to Western surface metal techniques

▲ Group photo from the workshop/seminar on the Wonkwang University campus.

My Experience of the Fulbright Multiplier Effect

My Fulbright experience illustrates the multiplier effect of intercultural educational

My recollections of my Fulbright experience are extensive, significant, and still

Seoul in 1990 was very different

Twice Fortunate, Twice Grateful

Reflections on the Korea Fulbright Experience, 1996

I received the Fulbright Fellowship following two summers in residence at the

My selection to serve as a Senior Fulbright Lecturer on American history in 1995

In due course, I published articles on North Korean survivalism in two English-

Snapshots of My Best Day in Korea

▲ Artist Professor Ahn Young Na with Richard Weis

I am an American choreographer/performance artist and came to Korea with

Legacy of a 2007-08 Fulbright Senior Lectureship

Dr. Chung Kyung-chae, an urban planner, enlightened me during my service as

My Fulbright grant sponsored me in Gwangju, where I was able to interact with

A Similarity: The banking systems of these hugely important global trading

Reflection on a Fulbright Experience

When I applied for a Fulbright lectureship in 2007, I was already in retirement.

My first teaching job was at Chonnam National University in Gwangju, South

Soojin Kim Ritterling

Gangneung Danoje Festival

[ Junior Researchers (U.S. Student) ]

As a Fulbright grantee in 1973-74, I sat in on Korean literature classes at Seoul

At the end there is nothing.

pressured to try to keep their students from demonstrating against President

Some things are obvious:

furniture, flexing my ideas and learning from my colleagues at Fulbright forums,

As I write today, Harvard is celebrating its 359th commencement. Scattered

Development: Economic, Personal…and Chili Peppers

bureaucrats in the ministry, it was an intriguing and at times uncomfortable jar

▲ETAs at a Kia Tigers baseball game ▲My Taekwondo class in Naju