Look Back on 2024 in confusion
2024-12-31
In July 2022, I embarked on my research journey. By next year, it’ll already be my fourth year—hard to
believe that soon, I’ll have spent as much time researching as I did shooting. It’s a strange mix of
emotions: relief that those grueling years can be condensed into just a single line on my CV, and a sense of
melancholy at how fleeting it all feels. At the same time, I sometimes catch myself wondering, "Why am I
still an undergraduate?" But really, I only have one semester left, so I hope I can wrap things up
beautifully.
So, how was this past year? Well... it’s been quite eventful.
I used to think I could tackle any research topic within the vast field of HCI with passion and
persistence, but it turns out that’s not the case. Diving into the complex perspectives of virtual idols and
their fans—something I had no prior knowledge of—was far from easy.
But through this experience, I gained a painfully clear understanding of what I don’t want to do.
Last year, I loved the act of research itself, but now I’m starting to refine my focus. I’ve begun searching
for problems that truly matter to me and others. I suppose this is part of the process of growth.
And then came the R&R, which I thought marked the end of my struggles with lethargy and depression.
However, one simple comment made me realize that wasn’t the case. Now, I’ve accepted that these feelings
will likely be lifelong companions. Oddly enough, knowing this has brought me a sense of peace. My dad
always tells me to "harden my heart," but in 2025, I think I’ll try sticking to my meds instead. Sorry,
Dad... For now, I’m just waiting and hoping that the revised version of our submission gets accepted.
Ah, I’ve been sharing only gloomy thoughts, but there were joyful moments too. Thankfully, I’ve had
great friends by my side. Earlier this year, I even found love. Whenever it felt like the world was
attacking me, I leaned on him a lot. He was my steadfast ally, and that kept me going for another year. They
say endurance is life, and though the year brought countless challenges, I made it through. As 2024 draws to
a close, I don’t know much else, but I do know that I’m proud of myself. And I’m deeply grateful to my dear
partner, the reindeer who taught me ballet, and the friends who comforted me when I cried. I owe so much to
all of them.
I said there were many events this year, so let’s share the good news first, in reverse
chronological order:
1. I’m alive.
2. I landed an internship at HCI+D lab!
3. I built this website! WOW! Professional!
4. I submitted three papers this year. One of them, now on its third submission, has improved immensely
since the first draft.
5. Oh, and I even got to review for a conference. Thankfully, they sent me an invitation.
6. I went on a trip to Donghae (Eodal)! It was delightful—spatulas on the nighttime beach, soju and
sashimi, bikinis under the sun.
7. I tackled two major requirements for my physical education degree: a gymnastics practicum and a
teaching practicum.
As for the bad news... well, what’s the point in dwelling on it? Let’s just say it taught me some
valuable lessons.
This year has been unusually chaotic, both inside and out, with plenty of moments of shock and sorrow—things
most of you already know. But next year, regardless of the circumstances, I plan to focus more on nurturing
my inner self. This year, I fluctuated by about 3 kg—gaining weight while drafting papers and losing it
during revisions. It’s not too severe, but it’s clear evidence that I alternated between overeating and
barely eating. When people worried about whether I was eating properly, I often replied, "I’ve just been too
busy." It’s ironic, really—always preaching health and exercise to others, yet failing to care for myself.
I’ve already set monthly goals for next year, but I’ll stop here for now.
Next year, I’ll start my master’s program.
I hope it’ll be a peaceful year for all of us.
Thank you for reading.
📄 Korean post is here!
Look Back on CHI'25 Submission and R&R
2024-12-12
Through revising two papers, I learned two key lessons:
1. Just like in verbal communication, the way you deliver your message is crucial in a paper. Our
professor refers to this as "tone." Previously, the tone of the paper was more like, "PE is important! AI is
awesome! Boom! Pen-pineapple-apple-pen!" In the revised version, however, we explored how AI could address
the problems in physical education that traditional methods couldn't resolve. The critique about "AI hype"
struck a critical chord and was something we had to take seriously.
2. When applying a methodology, it needs to be described so clearly that anyone can recognize it as
such. This requires meticulous planning from the early stages of the study. Otherwise, if it doesn’t meet
general standards, you may need to adjust it to another approach. In the case of the PE paper, because the
participatory design process didn’t produce a prototype, we had to revise it as a focus group ideation
process. Regarding the role of AI, while it’s hard to envision how teachers might interpret a prototype, in
hindsight, we could have prepared by adding more components in Figma or providing a design kit with gym or
playground elements for them to create mock scenarios.
Additionally, what’s essential for working as a team?
1. Roles and responsibilities are critical. When everyone fulfills their role as expected—or goes
beyond expectations—problems are minimized. The purpose of teamwork is to combine individual strengths to
create synergy, and the foundation of this lies in everyone understanding and performing their role
effectively.
2. "Everyone’s working modules must be shared." Can’t it be fixed later? No, we don’t have
the time!! Throughout the process, there needs to be frequent questions, open sharing, and clear
communication about what each team member is thinking. This simple rule must be upheld throughout the
project.
3. Know your capabilities, interests, and availability well and stick to your plans. This ensures
you don’t inconvenience the team. Occasionally, prescribed medication for lethargy and anxiety from my
psychiatrist helped me push through these challenges.
Look Back on CHI'24 Submission and R&R
2023-12-31
It was a process that took an entire year. I vividly remember the kick-off meeting with Professor Hajin Lim
this January when I hesitantly asked, "Do you really think I can submit to CHI?" Back then, as now, I was
fragile and anxious. No amount of support from those around me seemed sufficient to dispel this anxiety,
which is why I asked that question.
As I had anticipated, this research was a significant challenge for me. In the past, my lack of
confidence in my abilities and the tempting option of entrusting more responsibility to smarter people had
led me to settle for a supporting role in about 70% of my projects. This was the first time I had taken the
lead on a project over the course of a year or submitted a paper as the first author. In truth, I must admit
that I embarked on this journey rather naively. Usually, when a project begins like this, it tends to fizzle
out, but the guidance of my professor—who met with me at least once or twice a month—enabled me to see it
through to submission. Having accomplished this during an already busy semester, I’ve decided that starting
next year, if someone asks me what I enjoy most, I will answer, “Research.” This includes every step of the
process: the struggles, the days of despair followed by renewed efforts to read and write. For this reason,
I have resolved to pursue graduate studies after completing my undergraduate degree, starting with this
submission. (I sincerely thank my professor for all the care and attention despite their busy schedule.
Thanks to their support, I have discovered a lifelong passion, and I couldn’t be happier.)
What I gained: As a researcher, receiving an acceptance 19 days later will undoubtedly be the most
tangible reward, but at this point, I believe the experience of personally bringing a study to its
conclusion as the first author has been invaluable. Learning how to structure each section, observing the
key aspects my professor focused on while revising my drafts, and responding to reviewers' comments—these
are all insights that one can only gain through firsthand experience. I believe each of these lessons will
serve as an asset. Taking that first step, as tentative as it may be, is the beginning of the journey. I
take pride in having broken down the vague and daunting wall of uncertainty and taken that step forward this
year.
I’ve once been told that I am “filled with affection for
people.” Initially, I vehemently denied this, but spending the summer meeting teachers, listening
to their thoughts, and delving deeply into their perspectives made me recognize the truth in that statement.
At the same time, I came to a profound realization: I couldn’t have achieved anything on my own. This
understanding will likely have the greatest impact on the rest of my life. From my professor, who guided me
throughout, and my parents, who provided unwavering support, to those who helped recruit research
participants, the PE teachers who willingly shared their time and experiences, my friends who cheered me on
at every encounter, Onyu and Jieun, who assisted with a pilot study on the eve of my birthday, my beloved
Ju-hwang, and Taehoon and Senior Horim, who shared warm meals with me when I was weary—I owe my
accomplishment to all of them.
Looking back, I think my internship experience at KIXLAB from July 2022 to July this year was what
helped alleviate some of my vague fears about "doing research." Experiencing every phase of research—from
ideation to experimentation and writing—taught me just how valuable that experience was for an undergraduate
student. Under the guidance of Professor Juho Kim and a Ph.D. mentor, I could not have asked for a better
learning environment. However, I struggled during that time, gradually losing passion for the topic,
avoiding responsibilities as a second author, and feeling as though I was merely tampering with the
masterpiece of far more capable people. Despite this, I developed a strong desire to lead my own project,
making every decision and shaping the flow on my own, even if imperfectly. I wanted to move away from
relying on others' superior knowledge and skills or evading challenging tasks under the guise of delegation.
This year gave me the chance to have that crucial experience—proving to myself that I could accomplish
something as an independent agent. Perhaps it stems from the regret and self-reproach I harbored throughout
the internship, but paradoxically, I see it as the ideal starting point. It was an experience that allowed
me to confront my ignorance and inadequacies more deeply than anywhere else, giving me the humility to tread
my future path more thoughtfully.
📄 Korean post is here (LINK). Thank
you for reading!
