As a member of the LGBTQ+ community who grew up in a monocultural and monoethnic society that persecutes marginalized people, I strive for inclusivity and diverse representations in society and at work. At NHN diquest, I pushed for the use of more inclusive language and the removal of discriminatory or offensive terms from code, documentation, and data, and the inclusion of more women in projects. Advocating for equality and inclusion is an extension of my perspective shaped through my life experiences.

South Korea does not take kindly to what it considers “atypical”. It prides itself on being a homogeneous society, and its desire to maintain that uniformity is often manifested as hostility towards people it deems unusual. Since the country is still technically at war, all Korean men are required to serve in the military and I was conscripted like everyone else. The Korean military enforces a “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy on day 1 of military training, but they do nothing to stop soldiers from insulting gay people. I had a lot of thoughts going on in my head just sitting in the quarters having to listen to my squad referring to people like me in derogatory terms for a month. I was used to people calling us names and sinners, but that was one of the lowest points in my life. After I was released, I needed a sense of belonging, so I looked up stories about queer people in Korea and other countries because I wanted to learn more about my community. I was surprised to find out there were married lesbian couples in Korea (although not legally recognized) and befriended some of them. I read about the Stonewall riots for the first time. I also read a dozen novels about queer people over a few months just to immerse myself in a life I never had and likely never will. During that period, I came to realize that people opened up when they learned that queer people are not unicorns in a myth, but actually exist right next to them in the form of friends and family. And it was at that moment I took it as my responsibility to live as an openly gay person.

I came out for the first time more than ten years ago. I expected it to get easier as I came out to more people, but it never did. I still get terrified like it is my first time every time I tell someone that I am gay. Yet I still do it because I feel like I owe it to other people like me. I carry on just in the hopes that my being openly gay will leave people with a good impression and help them be more understanding of the next person, especially a child who comes out to them. Hopefully, they will think, “Oh, I know a gay person and he is actually very nice.”

I consider myself to be lucky, at least for having been accepted by my family and my closest friends, although it has been a long and complicated journey to get here. I took my time accepting my own sexuality, so I gave them time to process it as well. I am glad I did because now I get to see them at the country’s biggest Pride parade that I helped organize. That is what gives me the courage to continue doing what I do – the support of loved ones, and a little bit of understanding that goes a long way. I will happily take risks of rejection and condemnation if it means someone else gets a better chance of receiving the acceptance they deserve.

After the COVID-19 lockdowns were lifted, I volunteered for the Seoul Queer Culture Festival. It was my first time attending a Pride parade, and I wanted to be more than just an attendee. Feeling like a part of a community was particularly exciting, especially after my experiences in the army. So I decided to join the organizing committee in the following year, mainly focusing on the Korea Queer Film Festival. I felt a strong urge in wanting to help make our stories be seen, and I could put my linguistic talent to use and help translate foreign movies, which, as an avid moviegoer, was something that I have always wanted to try. My primary concern in organizing the festival was to be as inclusive and to have as many people feel represented as possible. So I pushed extremely hard for films that included marginalized people within the queer community, including old and young LGBTQ+ people, and queer people with disabilities. I also stressed that we needed to improve accessibility for non-Korean speakers by at least providing English subtitles for each movie. We did not always agree, but my teammates were generally very accepting and supportive, and I learned a lot about organizing events for marginalized people.

The most exciting and demanding part of preparing for the festival was translating the movies. Movies that were not in English were particularly hard to translate, especially when I did not know I was getting all the nuances right. However, my prior experience of translating books and documents, and having learned at least five languages, helped greatly in the process. In trying to reach an agreement on whether we should translate the films as they were to show people what the creators intended, or whether we needed to censor films and language that might upset people, I got to learn from different perspectives and about how some of the everyday language we use has its roots in discrimination. When the translations were complete and subtitles were made, we started making sign language subtitles for deaf people. During this process, I learned that working on accessibility is more complicated than I assumed and that it is important to work with and ask for opinions from the people they are for. My biggest takeaways from this experience are learning how much representation matters, how diversity helps cultivate better perspectives and ideas, and how much effort needs to go into active inclusion to create a community where every individual feels valued, respected, and empowered.

Information Access and Technology for All

I do consider myself lucky to have been born in Korea, and to have the parents that I have. They never explicitly told me how to live my life but tried to show me instead. I grew up watching them volunteer medical services to others, provide meals to people experiencing homelessness, and make donations to those in need. They made it their goal to educate students and take care of old people. I intend to leave the world a better place than I found it in my own way. Providing marginalized people equal access to information and technology is another way I believe I can achieve that goal, one that I have been working on, and know I will be good at, but accessibility features can hurt the people they were designed to serve even more if not done right. That is why I believe an open and diverse research environment is critical to my endeavor, and I hope I can learn from the different perspectives of others, and contribute my own perspective, skills, and passion to the community of researchers who share a vision of making a positive impact on the world.