Category Archives: Work

This week, I am happy to be geekin’ it up at a four-day technology training workshop delivered by the Knight Digital Media Center at the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism.

Basically, it’s a boot camp to help journalists pull their newspapers, magazines and TV stations out of the Dark Ages.

Today, we learned Twitter and how to create a blog post. (Don’t laugh. Not everyone is as hip as you, okay?) We also made these cool maps. Tomorrow, we’ll be doing videos, slideshows and podcasts. I’m learning plenty.

There’s a fascinating conversation on where journalism is heading. Tracy Record of the West Seattle Blog spoke about her project — this little blog about a neighborhood that exploded into a 24/7 news service that regularly scoops the local papers. The website brings in enough ad revenue to support her family. As journalists who only hear stories of doom and gloom, our minds were blown.

What’s the role of traditional journalism today? Can it survive in the age of blogs and citizen journalists? What needs to change?

Iono.

Anyway, that’s where I am this week. More handbag talk when I get back.

P.S. The lamp stand in my hotel is made out of a bong. I love Berkeley.

- Singing “Oops!… I Did it Again” to myself in the corner.

- Taking 50 pictures of people taking pictures.

- Randomly screaming.

- Saying goodbye to everyone in Korean. (I don’t speak Korean.)

- Sobbing on the way home because Matt wouldn’t take me to the after-party at a karaoke bar. (There was no after-party.)

- Drinking four glasses of water upon Matt’s insistence.

- Ahem, it.

That was one good company party.

I’m on the radio.

Today, I was a guest on the radio show ILL RATED on Radio Korea in Chicago. You can listen to me here chattin’ up KoreAm.

Despite what you may think, I really do hate when the spotlight turns on me. As in me the live person. (Me the byline, on the other hand, loves attention!) So this freaked me out a little. But in the end, I think it turned out……………not bad.

Oh yeah. How I became a voice for Korean America? Hahaha. Don’t even ask.

So my magazine, KoreAm Journal, isn’t doing so well in the cash department. It’s gotten to the point where a group of staffers are trying to Save KoreAm.

I personally never wanted to stand on the rooftops with this announcement because, well, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve always been awfully determined to put up a sparkly front. I cringed when a fellow editor proposed that we tell the community about our situation and our pay cuts (THAT’S why I had to wear the same dress to three weddings in a row, OK?) and I don’t really know why. Maybe I was still in denial, but I’m sure it’s deeper than that. Perhaps I’m more Korean in nature than I thought.

What I know (and must accept) is that our Save KoreAm campaign is necessary. And I know that KoreAm Journal serves as a critical voice not only for Korean Americans, but for all Asian Americans. And I know — oh, I know — that despite the rough patches our staff has plodded through these past couple of months, we are continuing to work tirelessly (well, actually, I’m pretty tired) to produce a magazine that’s crammed with depth, relevance and wit. And we have big, BIG! plans for the future. *coughawebsitethatdoesntsuckcough*

If, of course, we get the support we need right now.

So here is my plea. Save KoreAm. For me, I suppose, but really, for all of us.

Maybe this post shouldn’t be flashing across a website titled MY REAL NAME, but oh well. We’re all doomed, anyway. The decay of paper journalism is catching up to the best of us. It’s quick and it’s paralyzing. Lately, I’ve been questioning my skill set more than ever before. Do I have what it takes to make it? And what the heck does “making it” mean anymore?  What, if anything, makes me special?

A long, long time ago, writing used to be my thing. Everyone had a thing. Some people did law, some did medicine, some did computers, some did banking. Your thing is what you’re good at and what you choose to do for a major chunk of your life. I loved my thing. It became a part of my identity.

Then blogs started taking over the universe and it was awesome because, hey, more reading procrastination material, but it was also like oh, you’re a writer, too? Oh, that’s cool. I guess. There was something about this whole EVERYONE CAN WRITE! movement that made me uneasy.

And now that I see so many established news outlets slashing their staffs, I can’t help but think this sucks. At 26, I’m still rather young, but I’ve been in the journalism game for more than 10 years (high school counts!). There had always been something esteemed and noble about being part of this small circle of reporters, but I don’t really feel that anymore. Instead, I feel hidden and uninspired.

And when it comes to my career, I’ll admit it. Most of all, I feel threatened. It’s a whiny, bitter sort of feeling. As I struggle to keep my head above water in this big new sea of writers, I’m just like, what the heck? This is my job. You don’t see me whipping out a scalpel and using my “natural talents” to perform brain surgery — why don’t you stick to your own job, too?

But of course, that’s just selfishness talking. For society’s sake, I think it’s wonderful to have this whole army of (lame word alert) netizens keeping the world in check. I just wish they were a little less good.

Hi. What’s up? I’m good, thanks. You? I’m a little delirious, which is pretty normal. What’s up?

I’ve been working a lot lately. OK, maybe not that much, but a lot. Fifteen hours this weekend. Yes, of course I calculate that kind of stuff. How would I effectively complain about it otherwise?

I complain a lot. I don’t think I’m that annoying. Just a little. Ever since I joined the workforce, I complained about having to be a part of it. This weekend, I was telling Matt how I can’t wait to be a stay-at-home and he’s like a stay-at-home what? And I’m like, oh I don’t know. Just a stay-at-home. And he’s like THERE’S NO SUCH THING.

I realized my problem. I’m a slacker and an overachiever bottled into one. In my head, I want to do everything (and my desires are fierce), but when everything is laid out in front of me, I want to do nothing. It’s pretty sad, this slacker-achiever existence of mine.

But somehow, I know that the achiever part of me will always win this great battle. No matter how much I strive to live the life of leisure I’ve always dreamed of (wake up. do bar method. maybe write in the blog. maybe try to cook something. nap.), I’ll always get these random impulses to do unleisurely things, like, say, become the editor of a magazine. These impulses have occurred throughout my life and I just can’t stop them. It is a curse, yes, but it’s also one of my greatest blessings.