Dear readers,

For the past couple of years, I have been contemplating the space that The SNU Quill occupies within our largely Korean-speaking university—where our English publication fits into the broader community. It’s kind of funny, considering the sheer vastness of our campus; it took us over an hour just to install two magazine stands across the university grounds (which you can find in the Student Center and Doosan Humanities Hall, by the way).

Still, within the sprawling reaches of our campus, the reality remains: space is limited. When an ahjussi manspreads on the subway, we instinctively shrink back; each claim to space carries inherent consequences for others. Similarly, I found that I’ve been increasingly denying myself the right to fully occupy space. I began dressing in clothes that stand out less, afraid to intrude on others’ visual spaces. I step aside, soften my voice, slump my posture.

But within these pages, I reclaim my rights to project my voice and declare my opinions. And this has always been the ethos of our magazine—to give a platform to those who might otherwise go unheard. With this realization, it became clear to me what The SNU Quill offers to our writers and readers alike. It is a space where we can collectively assert our presence.

The 81st edition’s theme is grounded on “Space.” A new building stands where another once stood, some flourish while others are pushed further into the margins. The inevitable question arises: who gets to take up space, and who decides how it’s allocated? This question is now more pressing than ever. We invite you, dear readers, to join us as we explore the concept of space: how we define it, navigate it, and occupy it.

The cover, captured by our photographer Hye-won, serves as a striking frontispiece capturing this edition’s theme—geometric, energetic, and hopeful. We open SNU Society with an interview featuring Professor Vanessa Lim from the English department, who shares her journey navigating academia in Korea as a foreigner. In our Features section, we explore the challenges faced by youths, Kyopo, and prisoners in Korea, shedding light on the unique struggles they face. Our Arts and Culture section dives into the vibrant world of K-pop, public art, and the secrets behind the chocolate we consume. This edition also features an article by Kim Ha-jin, the first-prize winner of our magazine's very first English Column Writing Competition. His compelling account offers a firsthand look at his experience during Seoul's Pride Parade.

As we delve into our musings over space and identity, it is my hope that you find a sense of belonging within these pages. Afterall, the world calls to you—harsh and exciting—announcing your place in the family of things.

Sincerely,

Min Yun-geun