Personal Story
About a year ago, I presented in front of 30 at San Francisco State University on HIV in the “General Microbiology & Public Health” class.
It was scary, I do admit. Nerve-wracking, because most in the audience were non-Koreans, while just a few years ago, I was still on the island where I was born and raised all my life.
Indeed, my hometown is a tiny island.
But my dream wasn’t tiny, and I thank my parents for this. Working out of a very small (my mother is the only assistant there) clinic (my father is an MD of Asian Medicine), they worked very hard for over 20 years, rain or shine, to open all doors of opportunity for their children.
More than anything, however, I learned so much from them. For one, my father always let me be—because he himself lived that way. Starting out as a med student in a prestigious med school in Korea, he was the pride of the family until he decided to change his career (to Asian Medicine) after he fell utterly for it in his second year.
It isn’t difficult to imagine how fierce the opposition must have been, but my father persisted, and he is very happy today as he sees the value of his work. He is serving the community—the elderly women who can no longer stand upright (decades of hard life and labor, as my island is notorious for its harsh nature) and migrant workers from developing nations who work as farm hands.
Thus, it is not an overstatement to say that all the islanders know us.
And I am so proud because we are known for the right reasons. For one, we are not profitable, but that is the point. My parents never over-charge, up-sell, or prescribe any unnecessary treatment. Instead, we often allow the patients to pay later after harvest (free of interest, of course). And we are also known for our contribution. My father, for instance, treats the elderly women who were or are female divers (listed by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity), pro bono. And he visited an impoverished islet to treat the elderly (the only residents on that abandoned island).
In many ways, my father doesn’t think twice about sharing and giving because of his own story. He lost two younger brothers. One passed away as a child, as proper medical care wasn’t provided on time, while my other uncle passed away as a grown-up.
As such, he gives it all. For one, he has a heart problem. More than 20 years of pulse reading took its toll (to “read” pulse, a doctor shouldn’t breathe to take the pulse).
All these, I grew up seeing. And all the values that my parents cherish—empathy, compassion, and caring for the community—are also mine.
Because of this, I searched for ways to serve the community. I met with many mentors and studied all imaginable areas (Public Health to Infectious Disease Epidemiology, Marine Science, Neuroscience and others), all of which are about health, saving lives and helping.
And this, I will continue for the rest of my career and life. In many ways, this spirit of contribution is a family legacy; for one, in my family, we have five MDs including my father. Meanwhile, my grandfather started a bus company, which to me is an infra trade that supplied that much-needed mobility (affordable) to the people of my hometown island. And even after retiring, he didn’t stop contributing, starting the island’s first citron farm, and training many fellow farmers to establish more. Now, citron is a cash cow for us, and we even export it to the mainland and other nations.
As such, I also tried to live up to this legacy. For example, I volunteered to join the medical corps for my military service. There, because we served a battalion of engineers who handled heavy machines, we often treated patients with severe finger injuries and other traumatic wounds. Additionally, I gave my 100% while in charge of preventing the spread of COVID-19 at our 300-soldier-strong base (later, our base was commended for maintaining near-zero infections).
My effort traces back even further. Even as a teenager, I knocked on the doors of research centers to conduct research on the effects of climate change on my island (the fishery industry, specifically) and its people. The list goes on; as a high schooler, I researched on the inflow of mosquito-borne dengue into my island, and the marine microorganisms that generate antimicrobial substances for treating farmed fish species’ pandemic.
However, all these aren’t enough. I need to give back even more because of the immense “debt” I owe—not only to my parents but to the many who were there for me.
And I need you for that – to share more, to help many more.
A glimpse into my story