CURLING FOR ALL – Educational Website & Varsity Revival Project
I joined the curling club as a freshman, excited to learn a sport that few people knew about. A year later, all the seniors graduated — and suddenly, I was the only one left.Just like that, I went from being the youngest member to the only member.
Since there was no one else to lead, I became the captain by default — a funny promotion, but one I decided to take seriously.
I started rebuilding the team from scratch: recruiting new members, teaching beginners, and reorganizing the club so it could last beyond one generation. I created separate teams for the website, newsletter, Instagram, and campaigns,
so that everyone could take ownership of how the club grew.
Before long, our one-person club became a 25-member varsity team, and one of the most active and popular sports teams at school. Seeing that growth made me realize how powerful curling could be when shared.
Like any sport, curling requires skill and focus — but it’s also a team-based strategy game, one that relies more on cooperation and precision than on strength or physical contact. That’s why I think it’s perfect for students who might not feel comfortable with rough, competitive sports. Wanting to share that inclusive side of curling, I built an independent educational website, “Curling for All” (www.curlingforall.com) — a place to learn about the history, science, and college curling teams in Korea and the U.S.
I wanted to expand curling beyond competition — into a community of collaboration and strategy, and to help more students discover a sport they can enjoy without fear or hesitation.
From a Cow to a Connection
101 Cows Campaign — Fundraising · App · Documentary
“To my friend in Nepal who will receive Cow No. 43 — please take good care of her.”
I said this line while filming for a KBS documentary, but it wasn’t just a message to the screen—it was what I truly believed about giving.
I realized that giving isn’t about charity; it’s about helping someone stand on their own.
As the leader of my school’s Heifer International Club, I helped organize the 101 Cows Campaign, a project to send dairy cows to families in Nepal.
We designed posters, visited classrooms, and told stories about how one cow could transform a family’s future.
Outside of school, my friends and I hosted a read-a-thon, pledging donations for every book we read.
By the end, we raised enough to send two cows under my name.
A year later, I received news that one of those cows had given birth—and that the calf had been passed on to a neighboring family.
That moment changed the way I understood generosity.
The real meaning of giving lies not in the act itself, but in the cycle of change it begins—a ripple that keeps growing even without you.
Wanting to share this idea with more people, I developed the Heifer App.
The app helps users easily understand how Heifer’s model of livestock donation revives local economies and empowers families, while also encouraging more people to participate in fundraising.
It transforms charity into connection—turning awareness into action and empathy into growth.
Through it, giving became more than a one-time event; it became a living ecosystem of compassion and empowerment.
This experience redefined my view of leadership.
Leadership isn’t about giving directions from the front; it’s about creating something that continues to grow even after you step back.
And sometimes, that kind of change begins with something as small as a single cow.
Gardening
Our garden isn’t exactly picturesque.
The soil is always muddy, and in summer it becomes a playground for mosquitoes.
Still, every weekend, my mom and I find ourselves standing in front of that messy patch of earth.
When I first started, I’d plant seeds and stare at the dirt, wondering, “When will it grow?” Now, I can tell if the soil is too dry just by looking at its color.
My mom yells, “Careful, that’s lettuce!”but by the time we’re done pulling weeds, half the lettuce has vanished anyway.
Gardening is less about romance and more about endurance. My back hurts, my fingernails are always filled with dirt, yet when a tiny sprout pushes through the soil, it feels like all the effort was worth it.
It’s not some grand connection with nature—just a simple moment of surprise: “Wow, it’s really alive.” At that moment, the plant cells I once saw in biology class
suddenly come to life right in front of me.
When we finally harvest the vegetables, we grill them with meat.
My mom brags, “This is truly organic,”and I proudly add, “I grew this.”
Those small, ordinary moments somehow make me feel a little closer to understanding nature.
For me, gardening isn’t about study or art. It’s my way of slowing down, of living a little closer to the world around me. And somewhere in that process, I realized—
Everything starts the same way: by getting curious, failing and trying again,
and simply continuing because you love it.
