편집자 주     본지에서는 전세계 외국인 독자들을 대상으로 한국의 역사와 문화를 정확하게 소개하기 위해 김정기 변호사의 칼럼을 영문판으로 연재를 시작합니다.

한국의 역사와 문화에 관심있는 전 세계인들에게 도움이 되길 바랍니다.

한국어 독자들은 한국어로 번역된 화면이 보이므로 반드시 사이트 상단에서 원문보기로 설정하셔야 영문판으로 보실수 있습니다.
 

 

 

​☆김정기 총장 주요 약력☆
 

● 학력
- 뉴욕주립대학교(StonyBrook) 정치학과 수석졸업
- 마케트대학교(Marquette) 로스쿨 법학박사
- 하버드대학교(Harvard) 케네디스쿨 최고위과정
- 베이징대학교(Peking) 북한학 연구학자

 
● 경력
- 제8대 주상하이 대한민국 총영사(13등급 대사)
- 2010 상하이엑스포 대한민국관 정부대표
- 아시아태평양지방정부네트워크(CityNet) 사무국 대표
- 세계스마트시티기구(WeGO) 사무국 사무총장
- 밀워키지방법원 재판연구원 
- 법무법인 대륙아주 중국 총괄 미국변호사
- 난징대학교 국제경제연구소 객좌교수
- 베이징대학교 동방학연구원 연구교수
- 국민대학교 정치대학원 특임교수
- 동국대학교 경영전문대학원 석좌교수
- 숭실사이버대학교 초대 총장

 
● 저서
- 대학생을 위한 거로영어연구[전10권](거로출판사)
- 나는 1%의 가능성에 도전한다(조선일보사)
- 한국형 협상의 법칙(청년정신사)
- 대한민국과 세계 이야기(도서출판 책미듬)

(NewsKorea=Seoul) Digital News Team = My Story 3 - ● From a 'Star' English Instructor at Prestigious Universities to Studying Political Science at State University of New York at Stony Brook

"After summiting all 14 peaks, I felt a sense of emptiness, thinking there was nothing left to do. I decided it was time to start something new, having achieved my goal."

This is what mountaineer Um Hong-gil, the first person in Asia and the eighth in the world to conquer all 14 peaks above 8,000 meters of Mount Everest, said in an interview when he entered university 25 years after graduating from high school.

I was more moved by this statement than by his ascent of Mount Everest or his completion of all 14 peaks. Living in a world where we often get intoxicated by small successes, I realized that we have much to learn from those who, instead of resting on their laurels, find the courage and determination to climb even higher mountains.

From the age of 20 to 23, I thrived as an English instructor at Korea University, Yonsei University, Sogang University, and Ewha Womans University. At 21, I wrote American TOEFL for Dong-A Publishing, and at 22, I authored MBC FM 60-Minute English for MBC. At 23, I founded Georo Publishing Co., Ltd, a leading brand in university English, challenging the then-blue ocean market for college English. After publishing Georo Vocabulary 33,000 and Georo Reading 400, I entered my prime as students flocked to my lectures, drawn by my name alone. Unbeknownst to me, I had become a celebrity in the university scene.

Becoming a star lecturer at prestigious universities didn’t happen overnight. The many days spent struggling with books and the relentless effort to seize every opportunity were things that others didn't see. How much anxiety I felt to make sure I didn’t miss those chances, too.

At that time, I thought I had achieved a significant level of success. More than 600 per class filled lecture halls to hear me teach, calling me "teacher," and I felt like I had advanced further in life than others. Indeed, there might not have been a higher level of success as a university English lecturer. It was easy to think that, without any struggles, I could live a fulfilling life. However, that was all. Outside the university, I was nothing.

One day, walking through a crowded university district, students occasionally greeted me or nodded as they passed by. I felt a deep loneliness. Who was I? Just an English instructor teaching university students. Nothing more, nothing less. I wasn’t their friend, nor a true teacher.

Though there were many peaks to climb in life, I was content at the summit of a small hill, distracted by minor achievements. I had convinced myself that I had lived ten years ahead of others, but I wondered if that would hold true ten years from now. While other young people were heading to vast lands and the sea, I was confined to a shell, rolling along the shore, thinking this was the world.

After finishing my lecture at the university, I sat in the library, not to read, but to inhale the smell of the books lining the shelves. As I reflected on my place in the grand flow of human culture, I stood up. Suddenly, new peaks appeared before my eyes. It was as though, like mountaineer Um Hong-gil, who, after summiting Annapurna, couldn’t yet digest his accomplishment but was already fired up to climb Dhaulagiri, new mountains now stood before me. Those who live intoxicated by small successes or consumed by the mundane cannot see the grand peaks before them. But those who do see them cannot help but climb higher, like Sisyphus, always striving and challenging themselves.

At the peak of my success as a university English instructor, I suffered from an insatiable hunger. A feeling that I shouldn’t live this way, a fear of stagnation. When a person falls off a cliff, there’s nothing to do but climb back up. Most stories of success after failure fit this pattern. However, descending from the summit to challenge a new peak isn’t easy. I decided to take the difficult path once more.

I needed new hope, new goals. I was still young in my early twenties, with the determination and courage to achieve anything I set my mind to. And I quickly found that goal, or rather, I remembered it. "Study"—something I had momentarily forgotten due to poverty, but something that had always occupied a corner of my heart. It was not the conventional path many followed, but to move forward from my current position, education was essential.

In academic terms, I was a late learner. While my friends and seniors were in university, I was already a well-known English instructor at major universities. When they graduated and took their first steps into society, I finally became a university student.

Leaving the position of a prominent university English instructor was not easy. But compared to the suffocating feeling of not seeing a clear path ahead, I realized I could let go of even this small success. I decided to start the studies I had delayed. I was going to retrace my steps and climb the staircase to a wider path. Now, I had enough money to study without regret.

I immediately gave up my teaching position and prepared for the high school equivalency exam, as I didn’t have a high school diploma. After two months of review, I passed the exam, earning the equivalent of a high school graduate’s credentials. Later, I received an honorary diploma from my alma mater, Masan Central High School.

The direction of my studies was clear. Since childhood, my academic interests were political science and theology. Though I wanted to study both, realistically, I couldn’t. Theology seemed something that could be pursued later, when I had more life experience, as I believed it was normal to study it once my understanding of life had deepened. The study I wanted to do immediately was political science. After completing my studies in political science at the State University of New York  at Stony Brook, I was accepted to Harvard Divinity School, offering me the chance to study theology, but I regretfully had to forgo it due to lack of scholarships.

I approached political science not as the foundation for becoming a politician but as a broader field of human studies. It’s a comprehensive social science, a starting and ending point for all the humanities. Political science begins with understanding humans and aims to improve the quality of life. The history of politics, its processes, forms, functions of institutions, and political thoughts are all interconnected with almost every field of social science. This infinite stimulation of my imagination was what drew me in.

However, politics itself often carried a sense of disillusionment, particularly in Korea. The term "politician" conjured up images of cynicism and contempt. But the people who created such politicians were also Koreans. Therefore, the backwardness of Korean politics must be seen as part of the overall cultural state of Korean society. This issue also captured my attention. Understanding the problems of Korean politics and finding ways to address them became my primary interest. Political science, in my dream, was about understanding our situation and improving our quality of life.

Then, where should I go to study? I had ruled out Korean universities from the start. The field I wanted to focus on, international politics based on American political science, made it clear that studying in the U.S.—the heart of international politics and democracy—would be immensely beneficial.

I had also ruled out Korean universities because, from my experience as a lecturer, I found them disheartening. To me, students appeared to be compensating for years of suffocating exam pressure in high school, trying to reward themselves for their struggles with campus excitement. I found this atmosphere far from conducive to academic growth. I saw anti-intellectual superstitions prevailing under the chaos of political banners. How could genuine learning thrive in such an environment?

At that time, as a Korean citizen with an annual GDP of $3,000, I couldn’t afford the astronomical tuition of Ivy League schools, so I applied primarily to top public universities. Despite the handicap of my GED background, I was accepted to all five universities I applied to: University of Wisconsin at Madison, University of California at Santa Barbara, University of Texas at Austin, University of Minnesota at Twin Cities, and State University of New York at Stony Brook.

Among these, the University of Wisconsin at Madison’s political science program was highly ranked (7th in the nation at that time), but I ultimately chose Stony Brook University. For someone who dreamed of becoming an elected official, I felt the name "New York" would be more recognizable to voters. In the 1980s, when few Koreans were studying in the U.S., New York was an alluring name, and I was no exception.

Stony Brook University is the top-ranked flagship institution among the 64 colleges and universities within the State University of New York (SUNY) system. Among over 4,000 degree-granting universities in the United States, it was ranked 58th in the 2024 U.S. News & World Report rankings, with its Political Science program particularly notable at 28th place.

The Honors College, which admits only the top 3% of incoming freshmen (approximately 100 students out of 3,500), is renowned for its Ivy League-style elite education for a select group of students. These students are typically valedictorians from their high schools or have achieved SAT scores of 1500 or higher, on par with the average scores of Harvard admits.

Each year, more than 1,000 graduates, comprising over 20% of the 4,500-strong graduating class (including transfer students), go on to pursue advanced degrees at law schools, medical schools, and graduate programs, becoming lawyers, doctors, and Ph.D. holders. Additionally, four colleges of Cornell University, an Ivy League institution—namely, the College of Veterinary Medicine, the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences, the College of Human Ecology, and the School of Industrial and Labor Relations—are part of the SUNY system. The Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT), renowned for its fashion programs, is also a member of this system. Furthermore, SUNY Korea, located in Songdo, is the first foreign university in Korea established by Stony Brook University. In this way, Stony Brook University became my intellectual foundation and alma mater.

My journey to the U.S. was no different from the time I boarded a train from Masan to Seoul in Korea. In front of me, there was always a new beginning waiting. Of course, that beginning was something I had chosen and created for myself.

I knew it would be tough, but life at an American university was harder than I had imagined. In my early twenties, I had made a name for myself as an English instructor at a university in Korea. However, the first barrier I encountered upon arriving in the U.S. was, ironically, the English language itself. I had to admit that teaching English and living in an English-speaking environment were two completely different things. This is also where the critical flaw in English education in Korea lies. This experience eventually helped me become a well-known author of college English textbooks.

The State University of New York at Stony Brook campus felt like a federal prison. The design was reportedly by the same architect. However, no matter how impressive the campus was, it would have felt like a prison to me anyway. I was a bookworm, following a routine of moving from the dormitory to the library, and from the library to the classroom, with no time to experience the essence of American culture or deal with any cultural clashes.

The first class at Stony Brook began. As I tried to calm my excited heart, I couldn't help but feel eager with anticipation: “Who is the professor going to be? How do lectures work in American universities?” Everything was a mystery. When the professor finally entered the room, he quickly scanned the students and began speaking in a fast-paced manner. "Oh my god, what did he just say?" I couldn’t understand what he was saying.

Throughout the entire first class, I understood only a few words and phrases. I couldn’t grasp the outline of the lecture. I was so focused on trying to understand that I ended up sweating the entire hour. The first class was such a disaster that it set the tone for the rest of the day.

I never thought it would be easy to study political science with American students who were used to a presentation and discussion-based learning style. Coming from a culture that didn’t emphasize individual creative thinking and opinions, I wasn’t sure if I could even follow the professor’s lectures, let alone share my thoughts. However, the bewilderment I felt in that first class went beyond anything I had anticipated.

It was embarrassing to realize that, as a top English instructor in Korea, I couldn’t even understand English… But being embarrassed wasn’t going to solve anything. I decided that I couldn't just follow the same study habits as American students.

The next day, I committed to preparing for each class according to the schedule. I diligently searched the library for related books and read them to prepare for class. Even though my American friends said there was no need to read those books, I read them anyway. After a while, the librarian started greeting me as soon as I walked in. By immersing myself in political science terms and expressions, I gradually started to understand the lecture content. After relentless effort, like sharpening iron into a needle, I finally passed the first hurdle.

However, Introduction to American Politics (POL 101) was a tough subject, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up with my American classmates. The content of American politics and history was so familiar to them, but it was completely foreign to me. I made it a habit to sit in the front row for every class. I set up a recorder on my desk and recorded the entire lecture. After class, I went straight to the library, replayed the recording, and summarized the lecture in my own way.

Listening to the recordings didn’t make it easier to understand the parts I couldn’t catch during the lecture. I kept replaying those sections. My American friends seemed to think that my study method was inefficient, and they would occasionally offer advice, trying to comfort me.

"Try using a different method instead of such an inefficient way of studying."

"Wouldn’t it be better to read another book instead of writing down everything from the lecture?"

"How are you going to study when you spend all your time writing notes? You’ll never have time to relax."

They were right. It did take a lot of time to transcribe the lecture notes, leaving me with little time for other studies. My American classmates, who were learning the material more efficiently, probably thought my study method was slow and frustrating. While everyone else seemed to be sprinting ahead, I was lagging behind like a slow turtle, but I didn’t know of any other way.

Then, something incredible happened. A few days after the midterm exam, it was time for American Political Science 101 again. The professor walked into the room and immediately called my name.

"Mr. Kim? Please stand up."

I stood up in confusion, not understanding why he was calling me.

"Mr. Kim has set a new record in my 30 years of teaching political science. He got a perfect score, 40 out of 40. This is the first time I’ve seen such a score. This is amazing!" The professor was Howard Scarrow, who would later become my political science mentor.

The class erupted in applause, and more than 300 classmates cheered for me. Like the saying "dripping water wears away a stone," my persistent and consistent efforts had paid off, and the applause that day motivated me to graduate at the top of my class in political science.

There weren’t many students who paid attention to the tired-looking, unshaven, and unkempt Korean student who sat in the front row every day with his recorder. Who would pay attention to a sickly, gaunt-looking Asian student? But then, I did something no one had expected—I achieved a perfect score.

The study method that my American friends had once ridiculed eventually gained recognition. Those who had criticized me for my "turtle-like" study habits now lined up to borrow my notes, and as the exam approached, I became the first person they sought out for study tips in the political science department.

Political science became fascinating. My professors were impressed by my deep interest in the subject, my imagination, and my reading habits. I aimed to approach problems specifically and thoroughly, while also trying to see the bigger picture of political science. If I ever found myself in the political arena, I wanted to contribute not just to improving government functions, but to addressing the broader future of both the nation and humanity.

When I graduated from the State University of New York at Stony Brook at the age of 29, I received the honor of being the only summa cum laude graduate among 150 political science graduates that year.

I may not adapt quickly, but I work hard and consistently. I rarely get discouraged or give up prematurely. I just do my best at my own pace, and eventually, the path becomes clear.

Life is like a marathon. The road ahead is long, and if you’re too impatient, you’ll only burn out. It’s important to manage your pace. In a marathon, there are times when you must go full speed, but there are also times when you need to slow down and catch your breath. Similarly, when facing difficulties in life, it's crucial not to give up but to approach the problem with a calm, steady mindset. Whether it's work, study, or life, when things get tough, if you approach the problem in a simple way, you’ll inevitably find a new solution.

☆ Author:  Atty Jeong-kee Kim ☆

● Education
- Bachelor of Arts in Political Science, Summa Cum Laude, State University of New York at Stony Brook
-  Doctor of Jurisprudence, Marquette University Law School
- Senior Executive Program, John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University
- Research Scholar in North Korean Studies, Peking University

● Experience
- Consul General of the Republic of Korea in Shanghai
- Commissioner General for the Korean Pavilion at the 2010 Shanghai Expo
- CEO, Asia-Pacific Local Government Network for Economic and Social Development (CityNet)
- Secretary General, World Smart Sustainable Cities Organization(WeGO)
- Law Clerk, Milwaukee Circuit Court, USA
- Senior Attorney-at-Law, Dr & Aju LLC
- Distinguished Visiting Professor, World Economy Research Institute, Nanjing University
- Research Professor, Institute of Oriental Studies, Peking University
- Distinguished Professor, Graduate School of Political Science, Kookmin University
- Chair Professor, Graduate School of Business, Dongguk University
- First President of Soongsil Cyber University

● Publications
- Georo English Studies Series for College Students [10 volumes] (Georo Publishing)
- I Challenge the Possibility of One Percent (Chosun Ilbo)
- The Art of Negotiation (Cheongnyonneongsin Publishing)
- Korea and the World (Chekmidum Publishing)