Captain J: Navigating the Language Seas

 While organizing the artifacts of my life... Looking back, like most people, my 20s were a whirlwind of confusion. I entered the military academy almost by accident—tagging along with a friend—and spent the next four years constantly questioning whether that path was ever meant for me. After graduating, I endured six more years filled with unpredictable people, situations, and relentless efforts to prove myself. Maybe, as someone once said, the choices I made weren’t meant to bear fruit until I reached my 40s or 50s. Maybe they were seeds—still green, still growing. Now, in my mid-30s, I’ve begun to reflect on my life. What shaped me? Why did I become the person I am today? To understand myself, I need to revisit my past. To prepare for the future, I need to examine the present. But to make sense of the present, I must trace the path I’ve walked. I never felt easy defining myself in neat terms, so I decided to revisit the fragments of writing I left behind over the past decade...

 A distracted soul—now seasoned with just a pinch of responsibility and grit. In an era where human jobs are vanishing, what’s left for the rest of us to hold on to? I call it seriously distracted . Somewhere between deep focus and fleeting hobbies. That’s where I’ve lived most of my short life—and maybe that’s okay. We’ve all heard it before: “The world is changing fast.” But these days, the pace is downright terrifying. AI and machine learning now nudge me toward what to buy, what to watch, and maybe even what to think. While these algorithms try to make my life easier, I find myself asking—what exactly am I supposed to do now? "You’re all over the place—just pick one thing!" That’s something I’ve heard more times than I can count. For a long while, I blamed myself. Why couldn’t I just stick to one path like everyone else? But after knocking on the doors of many different careers, I’ve come to a liberating conclusion: It’s time I stop fighting who I am—and start ...

 Interpreter 101 This post is for anyone who has worked with an interpreter, has an in-house interpreter at their company, or is planning to hire one. Interpreter : A person qualified to interpret. (Source: Naver Korean Dictionary) That’s the dictionary definition—but what does an interpreter actually do? Before diving in, let’s clear something up: the term “interpreter” covers a wide range of professionals, and there are multiple ways to categorize them. Those who can perform simultaneous interpreting, and those who can’t. Those who graduated from a graduate-level interpretation/translation program, and those who didn’t. In-house interpreters vs. freelance interpreters. Interpreters (spoken language) vs. translators (written language). Let’s unpack that. Simultaneous Interpreting & Graduate Schools Categories 1 and 2 are often related. That’s because simultaneous interpreting is a specialized skill taught in professional interpretation/translation gradu...

 The Heated Debate Over the Translation of Han Kang’s The Vegetarian During my first year in the Interpretation and Translation graduate program, we had an extensive discussion about the English translation of Han Kang’s novel The Vegetarian . The debate centered around whether the translator had taken too many liberties, to the point of distorting the original meaning, or whether such levels of adaptation should be permissible. Opinions were divided among students, reflecting the broader dilemma in the field of translation—should one translate literally, or is interpretation necessary? This issue is difficult to resolve definitively. In the end, the decision to lean toward literal or free translation lies with the translator. However, in South Korea, it often feels like societal expectations make that decision instead. Having worked as a freelance translator, I’ve experienced firsthand how the industry treats translators as disposable, emphasizing strict adherence to the origina...

A Sixth-Year Nurse’s Perspective on Trauma Code : Heroes on call Reflections on a Post-Surgery Dawn After finishing a late-night surgery and heading home, I had an unexpected moment of realization. Recently, I’ve been reflecting on my daily experiences, but on this particular day, my attention was drawn to something I had never truly considered before—the surgical field itself. I had always regarded an appendectomy as a relatively minor procedure. A few small incisions, inserting ports, maneuvering a camera, cutting away the inflamed appendix, cauterizing, and suturing—it was a scene I had witnessed hundreds of times beyond the anesthesia tent. However, that night, as I discreetly peeked over the surgical drape to watch the laparoscopic monitor, a crucial blood vessel was accidentally severed at that very moment. Blood instantly gushed out, and without thinking, my hands and mind instinctively prepared to open the IV fluids and measure a dose of ephedrine. Watching the surgeon st...

 Experiencing True Empathy Through My Own Surgery It was a rainy day. I had a graduate class early in the morning, so I decided to grab breakfast at a nearby fast-food restaurant. As I rushed out of the subway station into the drizzle, I entered the shop intending to place an order through a kiosk. Suddenly, my foot slipped on the wet floor, and I fell straight onto my cheekbone. Immediately, a tingling sensation surged through my face, and I feared nerve damage. My first instinct was to visit an oral and maxillofacial surgeon, mistakenly believing I'd injured my jaw. After being rejected by a local clinic that specialized more in cosmetic jaw surgeries rather than trauma, I visited a neurosurgeon. Imaging confirmed fractures in my cheekbone and orbital bones, along with facial nerve compression. The very next day, I was scheduled for facial reconstructive surgery under general anesthesia. As someone who had spent the last four years as an anesthesia nurse, regularly administering ...