This is the inaugural edition of the Hilltopper Arts Review. The purpose of this magazine is to honor the finest visual arts and creative writing by students at SJA Jeju. We hope you enjoy this first edition!
CREATIVE WORK IS A GIFT TO THE WORLD AND EVERY BEING IN IT. DON’T CHEAT US OF YOUR CONTRIBUTION. GIVE US WHAT YOU’VE GOT.”
– Steven Pressfield
MyeongJin Kim
Hyung Woo Kim
Janet Kwon
SeungGyun Han
Kyu Min Kim
MyeongJin Kim
Jeana Lim
Daniel Lee
DaonJeon
Celine Park
Family When my alarm roared vibrantly as the dazzling sunlight glared over me, I knew that the day of Chuseok had begun. I was taught in school that Chuseok was a day full of anticipation of getting together with my whole family and feeling a sense of belonging. Instead, I continuously reminded myself how I should behave and act when I go to my grandparents’ house. As I did every year, on the day of Chuseok, I would not wear my good old University of Toronto sports hoodie even though I was extremely tempted to. Also, I would not wear my New York Yankees hat that always fulfilled my hope of being a baseball player. As opposed to my ordinary days, I opened my closet that my mother always organized for me and wore my most clean white polo shirt with my black trousers, looking like my father did every morning. At the age of ten, like every kid, I hated those formal clothes that made me both physically and mentally rigid. Those clothes demolished my craving to play outside and my body would tickle inside me, signaling me to go outside and play free. During the three monotonous hours in the car from Seoul to Cheonan, my mother insisted, “Son, tell me how you should act when we arrive at your grandparents’ house.” “Bowing 90 degrees to the elders, not eating before the elders, and always listening to what they say,” I replied with a continuous monotone like a robot. “That’s my son,” my mom insisted with her smile like a sunrise feeling proud of me. “Mom, but do I really need to bow?” I groaned and said. “I already respect them anyway.” Right away, as if the time stopped, a dead silence sliced throughout the car and I could feel the sharp glare of my parents through the rearview mirror. Reluctantly, I nodded to myself and promised my parents that I would bow to the elders and show my respect as usual. After a couple of minutes, we arrived at our grandparents' house. Before knocking on the door, my mother chided me by emphasizing every single word, “Act politely and show respect.” With a big, fake smile on my face, I followed my parents into my grandparents’ house. Like a routine, my parents and I did our bow to my grandparents to show them respect. Then my grandparents hugged me tightly so I could feel their affection. Subsequently, my grandmother said, “You have raised your son very well; he is so polite and respectful.” “This is all because of your help and advice,” my mother replied while she patted me on the head, “We have high expectations of him.” I felt pleased that I made my parents proud in front of my grandparents. Until now, everything was as usual and a normal Chuseok day was going on just fine. After seeing and having conversations with all of our family members, my grandmother in the kitchen shouted, “Aren’t you all hungry? Now let’s eat some delicious food.”
Smelling the fragrant smell of bulgogi and hearing the growl of my stomach, I rushed to the kitchen to help the setting of the table. My grandmother gave me a bunch of spoons and chopsticks for me to lay out. Since my grandmother loved to design spoons and chopsticks, each family member had their own set. Based on the color and the design of the spoon, I laid them out: the gold spoon for my grandparents, the silver spoon for the adults, and the bronze spoon for me and my cousins. As I was admiring my rich and polished bronze spoon and chopsticks, my cousin sister, who is two years older than me, marched into the kitchen wearing her pink dress and scarf under the illusion that she was cinderella. With her arrogant face and her chin facing towards the ceiling, she attentively looked at my set of spoon and chopsticks. She did not even look at her own set. Then, she walked towards me and demanded, “Give me your spoon.” "This is mine,” I rebuked in a strong voice, “Yours is on the table.” “I don’t care whether it is yours or mine,” she snapped, “Give me that spoon and chopsticks!” Before I tried to say no, she grabbed my spoon and chopsticks with her gigantic hand and took it away from me. I looked around and tried to find my parents; however, my mother was working in the kitchen, and my father was talking with my grandfather. Based upon my learning that interrupting an adult's conversation is extremely rude, I thought to myself that I will take care of the pink beast on my own. Unlike other kids at the age of ten, I was patient and used the method that my father always used: the rule of three. “Give my spoon and chopsticks back,” I demanded. She didn’t respond. “Give my spoon and chopsticks back,” I declared. She didn’t respond. “Give my spoon and chopsticks back!” I shouted. She sniggered. Now that was it. In slow motion, I could see her lips moving up. Like my cousin sister had done to me, I dove towards her hand and grabbed my beloved set of spoon and chopsticks and tried to take it out of her hand. It didn’t even budge. Who would ever imagine that a girl with a pink dress would ever be this strong? I couldn’t lose to her. I couldn’t let go of my special spoon and chopsticks that my grandmother had designed just for me. Then, from the kitchen, a familiar voice shouted out in agony, “You two stop right now!” Full of relief, I anticipated that my father would scold my cousin sister in front of everyone and give me back my spoon and chopsticks. After he separated me and my cousin sister, he insisted, “Sangwoo Kwon, you follow me right now.” My father always called me by including my last name when he was extremely furious with me. My heart beating like a drum, I started to wonder whether I had done anything wrong. I had done nothing wrong. I have done the right thing. It was my cousin sister who should be scolded. Definitely not me. I followed my father as he went to the garden and sat on the bench. Before I even sat down, my father snapped, “Son, why are you so rude. I am pretty sure that I did not teach you that way.”
Almost on the verge of tears, feeling betrayed by my own father, I mumbled, “It was my cousin sister who took my stuff. I did not do anything wrong.” “You were extremely disrespectful to your cousin sister and to the elders,” my father retorted. “I am very disappointed in you.” “But… sh- she is the one who took my stuff,” I stuttered. “I DO NOT CARE!” my father yelled. “Your cousin sister is two years older than you which means that you should treat her with respect.” I was so shocked that I did not know what to say. I refused to respond. Instead, I thought to myself: why did age even matter? Was age more important than right or wrong? After my father said that he did not care, I didn’t speak to him during the whole day. In fact, I didn’t speak to anyone. I was mad at my dad and obviously at my cousin sister. As I went back into my grandparents’ house, I saw my cousin sister eating dinner with my spoon and chopsticks. She looked at me and grinned triumphantly. The only reason that she was allowed to use my spoon and my chopsticks was that she was older than me. The devastating fact was simply that she was just born two years earlier than me. My father told me to apologize to my cousin sister, but I didn't. Everybody thought that I was the one who was rude and impolite, and that’s how my worst day of Chuseok went. Eight years have passed and looking back at the life lesson that I had at the age of ten, I am no longer mad at my dad and at my cousin sister. Also, I do not blame them for what happened eight years ago. Actually, I thank them for allowing me to adapt to my culture. Now, at an age of eighteen, I am mature enough to acknowledge how my culture prioritizes age hierarchy. In various aspects of my life, including both school and family, the importance of age and respect is prevalent. However, simply following my culture and adhering to its norms does not necessarily mean I am fond of them. Still, my experience tells me that certain parts of my culture whether I like it or not are the ones that ultimately represent my own cultural identity as a Korean.
Sangwoo Kwon
Celine Park
Enjie Hwang
YeLin Kim
JeongSik Ham
Jeong Yeon (Aiden) Cho
YeLin Kim
JeongSik Ham
Jeana Lim
Enjie Hwang
Hatred Ms. Bitras was in her house, sipping coffee in front of her computer, enjoying her afternoon break. However, that peace was soon smashed into pieces, as Ms. Bitras heard a familiar voice in the background. She instantly noticed this was a dream. In fact, a very familiar dream. ‘Here we go again,’ she thought. Eeeeeek! Eeeeeeeeeeeek! Monkeys started breaking into the house, screaming as if they had gone mad. They exaggerated their savageness, just like the unintelligent animals they were. Picking sides was meaningless. Whatever kind of friendship was broken the next second it was made. The unpleasant scene disturbed Ms. Bitras, and made her shout out with frustration and resignation, about how unwise and selfish their actions were. She shouted, demanding them to stop, but the sound only got louder and louder until everyone’s ears bled. Yet the monkeys were not smart enough to notice their own well-being. Ms. Bitras soon woke up, blankly looking up into the ceiling. The dream ended, but the screams did not. Uncodable shouts kept coming out of the morning alarm. Like a slug, she slowly stretched her arm up to her phone to turn off the alarm that generously greeted her morning with the screams of monkeys. However, she was too tired to unlock her own security puzzle. Her phone returned a reply, “please try again in 5 minutes,” as if to tell her that her day will never be better than this. Ms. Bitras gave up, and just covered the speaker of her phone with blankets and let it be until the alarm went off again. She sat up in her blankets and spaced out. Her face looked drained out and tired, but her eyes glared at something like a hawk. The monkey screams still reminded her of her ex-husband, Mr. Aurum, who fought with her almost every day in her life. She didn’t remember exactly when their relationship started breaking down, but that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that they always fought, because Mr. Aurum was too selfish and uneducated to even understand what Ms. Bitras was trying to say. He always stated absurd and crazy arguments with many contradictions and logical fallacies, but he never doubted or questioned them even a little bit. He moaned about how people like Ms. Bitras exist in this world, and sighed about how the ‘right and awakened’ people like him were being shut up. He sounded so stupid that bitter laughter erupted every time she listened to him. The conversations always ended with them ignoring each other, thinking that the opponent was too foolish to even attempt discussion. The day they finally broke up, he made a funny, surprised face, leaving his mouth half-open as if to advertise that Ms. Bitra’s words were ridiculous. That face just looked so much like a fish, that Ms. Bitras called him fish, ‘Aurum Fish’ from that day on. Yet, she did not change the alarm, since thinking of Aurum Fish magically helped her write more of her news articles.
Ms. Bitras stopped thinking, crawled out of her blankets, and dragged herself into the bathroom for a quick automatic shower. When she was out, clothes were already ready for her, and food was already on the table. A robot brought her phone for her, and she looked at it while eating breakfast. Recommended videos started popping up on top of the screen: “How the YouTube algorithm is isolating people”, “Birth rate drops to 0.3… the lowest in history,” “What the government doesn’t tell you about abnormal climates,” “Is sustainable fishing possible?,” “Donel Trumpet tweets, ‘Don’t wine about AI, unemployment is due to the second pandemic,’” “How the internet is ripping people apart, and why it’s scary.” Ms. Bitras tapped on the last one. It was a summary and analysis about how the new internet technology had changed the world over the last ten years. Somebody’s voice started talking, though Ms. Bitras wasn’t that sure if it was a real person’s voice. People who make these types of videos usually use a voice simulator. Ms. Bitras started to play the video in fast forward, only stopping occasionally: “The internet first appeared… people soon started to express their opinions more openly, broadly, harshly, mainly because it wasn’t ‘real’ to them… the next generation was more extreme, since they were born in an environment where they could say pretty much whatever the f**k they want from behind the wall of anonymity… racism, gender inequality, political collision, cultural disagreements, war aftermaths, capitalists and workers, conspiracy theories, human rights, moral standards of science, democracy and communism… nobody wanted it or intended it to happen, but disagreements slowly gave birth to the division of people… Youtube and Google’s recommendation algorithms started to lead users to the abyss of more extreme information and beliefs, paving the road towards hell… the press excitedly put more coal onto the fire for their own benefit, accelerating the process… of course, politicians did not miss the chance either… feminism became more of a ‘I hate men’ thing, while America v.s. China became one with Asian hate and racism… political parties described opposing sides as ‘monsters that were walking backwards into the uncivilized past’… as AI started to take away jobs, it created one of the biggest fights in modern history, the employed vs. the jobless… it created stereotypes of poor = antiAI and rich = vested power… these are probably not even 1% of all the fights… after the second pandemic, due to the sudden increase of internet users, channels that use these strong emotions of conflict, also known as ‘junk food channels,’ received more recognition, mostly by young users… jobless people who were desperate for more money, started to create more junk food channels… around this time, it finally happens… advanced VR and AR technology appears… going to work, going to school, going on trips or vacation - everything could be done just like reality inside VR machines... for years, people lost the reason to go outside which was the start of the world we know now… this ‘virtual generation’ grew up in a world where people spend all their awake time inside VR where toxicity flew through the childrencontent filters… now, people can’t even easily approach others with the intent to become friends, because you have to worry about others having numerous opposing beliefs.”
She already knew all of this anyway. The video mentioned the decrease of the birth rate, how the weirdest laws are being created in the process of politicians gaining supporters, and how these kinds of videos are being treated as conspiracy theories. In the end, it presented its message, “hatred is the most dangerous and useless thing in the world that is the cause of all misfortune.” While Ms. Bitras agreed with the conclusion, she also thought that the information included in the video couldn’t be completely trusted. Politicians often framed or falsely accused each other to get rid of people they didn't like. They also made up fake enemies to use the hatred of people for their own benefits. The press spread that false information either because they think it’s a jackpot of money, or because they’ve been paid black money. They don’t check if the information is real at all. Then the angry people that hear the news continuously make more fake information. There is no way to track down the source of information, and even if the source is mentioned, the source itself isn’t trustworthy anyways. Everything is just a chunk of lies and no one can know what is real or not. Therefore, everyone just believes what they want to believe. Whatever gains the trust of more people becomes the truth, which is scarier than ever. Anyways, for that reason, the source of information used in the video may actually just be just a biased chunk of sandmixed grain. Ms. Bitras turned off her phone, and blankly stared at the windows covered with curtains. She sighed at the broken, twisted world, led by people who hated each other without much thought. Ms. Bitras mindlessly opened the curtains using a hidden touch screen on the surface of the table. The sunny sky revealed itself, suggesting that it would be a good day to go outside for a walk. Ms. Bitras quickly put her clothes on, took her phone, put her mask on, and walked out into the streets. Not a single person was outside. Ms. Bitras never saw anyone face-to-face in the past few months. It felt like humans had gone extinct since the second pandemic. Of course, there weren’t a lot of people outside before then either. Everyone was in their houses, stuck to their VR machines and walking virtually through these streets with their beautiful avatars. She could not hear the voices of these virtual people without her headset, but there were plenty of cicadas that chewed on Ms. Bitras’s eardrums from the shadows. After walking for about 20 minutes, Ms. Bitras finally found someone. Though that person didn’t seem to be in a good state. He was a homeless man, sitting on the side of the street with a small metal can in front of him. It was very unusual to see a beggar around here, since this place was home to people who had proper jobs. Ms. Bitras became a little nervous, and took out her phone to activate the AR app. In AR, the world looked completely different.
The street that had no people was now crowded with avatars, all handsome and pretty, unlike, Ms. Bitras who they’d see as a crazy woman since she looked ‘ugly’ on purpose. Every single person who walked past her looked at Ms. Bitras with surprise and disgust, and tried their best to exaggerate their repulsed facial expressions. Ms. Bitras moved her phone towards the poor beggar, and was a bit disturbed to see that her guess was right. Many avatars were gathered around the beggar, shouting, cursing, humiliating him. Some tried to hit the beggar with a virtual baseball bat, knowing that it would deal no damage from VR, and some wrote strong insults with the highlighter tool. Of course, there were opposing groups that demanded everyone to stop the fuss. “What are you doing?! That guy’s never done anything to you! Are you abusing him for fun? You don’t even deserve to be called a human you f***ing animals! Go and learn what justice is!” Of course, nobody just stood there and listened. That one sentence started a fire. “What? Are you saying that this AI-hater has done nothing to us?! Those mother f***ers have done all kinds of stuff to get rid of AI! Just for their own useless and pathetic jobs!” “You’re saying that for your own benefits huh? Because you just want more!” “NO, what the f**k are you even talking about?! They’re all pieces of s**t that wish for our misfortune just because they’re too jealous of us! They don’t deserve to be left alone!” “That’s such an uncivilized way of thinking. Are you a native Indian or something? Oh you’re Asian! Are you now here to say that great mother f***ing China is actually the root of America? Well great! Try my man, you’ll never be able to take us over through your lies!” The fight grew bigger until everyone in the area noticed. It was a big fight between AI supporters and people who had a strong sense of justice. Well, at least at the start it was. The main topic of the fight started to change, little by little. Small, numerous disagreements soon started to come out from the same side. “What? You were racist?! You’re the one with the old way of thinking!” What seemed to be a team death match soon turned into a free-for-all fight, a fight about racism, feminism, political parties, AI, moral standards, being salty, and the presence of one another’s parents. ‘Ugh, what a pathetic scene this is,’ thought Ms. Bitras. The guy who told people to go and learn justice was racist, and the guy who hated anti-AI was actually just saying that for the stabilization of his own social position.
They probably don’t even know the contradictions in their own thinking. Even if they noticed, they’d probably just try their best to trick themselves into believing that such contradictions don’t exist. Also, nobody knew for sure if the poor beggar sitting down on the street was actually anti-AI. It was thought as the truth, just so naturally from some point in the fuss. Numerous logical fallacies, not even a single questioning about their beliefs. It made Ms. Bitras think of one person. Everyone’s faces started to look like fish heads.At some point, one angry participant stomped their feet towards Ms. Bitras. “Hey! What the hell are you filming? Turn it off! Now!” Ms. Bitras wasn’t filming, but the angry person strongly believed that she was, and tried to grasp Ms. Bitras’s arm by force. However, the avatar’s hands went right through, since VR couldn’t interact with real objects. “What?! You’re… you’re not using VR?! And you’re using a phone?! A PHONE?! That ancient artifact?! Wha- Oh, I see, you’re too poor to buy a VR machine! Ha! You poor little jobless rat! I knew it! You’re filming this to help that jobless sh*t over there huh? Well, I’ll tell you, that’s no f***ing use at all. The reason why you joblesses can’t get a job isn’t because of that ‘AI taking away your jobs’ and the ‘head start’ that you guys say we get. It’s simply because you’re too dumb to be picked as an employee!” Ms. Bitras didn't answer, but just put her phone away gently. All the noisy shouting disappeared, and so did all the people on the street. Everything returned to the loud cries of the cicadas that could not be seen, but clearly existed somewhere. Ms. Bitras turned towards the beggar. He looked as if he had been rolled down some stairs, rubbed against the ground, chewed upon by hunting dogs, and dipped in depressing poverty. Even virtual attacks can do damage. The image of the fight of savage animals passed through her mind. How dumb and foolish and stupid can people ever become in front of hatred, Ms. Bitras thought. The funniest part was that they all thought that they were saying the right things, the morally right things. She soon started her way back home. She thought of what pathetic things those avatars would be doing by now, but she acted as if she didn’t care about them at all. Well, at least externally she did. She was already criticizing them, perhaps a few truck loads of criticism that was more than enough to crush everyone inside her world of imagination. For some reason, the cicadas sounded louder than ever on the way back.
.
When Ms. Bitras Medicus returned home, she was already sweating because of the hot sun, and walking fast for an unknown reason. The house picked up her bio-information, and automatically activated the coolers to the perfect temperature. After changing into her indoor clothes, Bitras Medicus immediately sat down on her desk and waited for the computer to turn on. She was excited to criticize the foolish monkeys she’d seen in the street. Some unknown strong emotion told her to write a new article. She accessed the news site with her account. The first thing she saw was a short profile of herself, ‘Bitras Medicus, a professional news journalist who reveals the reality behind the beliefs.’ She started scribbling words on a piece of paper to brainstorm. Paper was treated as useless trash nowadays, and people who used it were treated as environment destroyers, but Bitras Medicus used them anyway. She continued writing, wearing herself out, even skipping her lunch. Then the face of Aurum Fish appeared in front of her eyes, doing sh**ty things without anyone stopping him, just like the people on the street. She started writing again, faster, overwhelmed by the emotion that she believed was duty and responsibility. That day, in her dreams, a scene of an endless crowd appeared in front of Ms. Bitras’s eyes. “Hey you p-(#*$(!@” “NO dar#&!(@#” “Why do *(*#^^@#((!@#)” “Well, t#I!@*ht*!$&8” “I *#(*)!!@*^#($” “@#^&*!(*&%@$^%&^(*#&$” The monkeys screamed so much that nobody’s words could be properly understood. Ms. Bitras shouted: “Understand and accept the contradiction of your words! Know that this is not the solution! You’re all just being used by politicians! Movies and books are just there to make money out of you! Are you even listening? You stupid fools! Don’t you understand that just screaming at each other never ch@99#*!( anyth$&*!&! all!@%? ! (*&#*%^)*&^!&@8078&#*^@)%!HNUD*!(^)#)&AJ(!H#%*!)#&%*(#&%Y*!)* (@!*@(&%Y#))@(WUHRI!)(*#HFUSHQ)(*#&%_)(!*&#^%)(*Y#NX*YQ)(A*J)*(@#!!!!” Just another scream in all the tangled noises. That was all. -- SungJae (Lloyd) Ahn
ShinWoo Jo
Eun Se Cho
CheWon Han
SeoYeon Jin
Jeana Lim
SeoYeon Jin
Eun Suh Oh
Antonia Sofia Amat Poblete
WooRi Chae
SeoJung Park
JiHye Lee
CheWon Han