My parents told me to dream big. Imagine their surprise when a 6-year-old kindergartener brought home a building blueprint done on Windows 3.1.
Six. I’m not even in elementary school and holding onto a nanny’s hand.
Yet this building had a R&D department, an indoor baseball diamond, a swimming pool, a nursery, computer rooms and “daddy’s room” (aka CEO’s office).
Flash forward to the 21st century. That same 6-year-old boy grew up and the only one holding his hand is a girlfriend.
However, that creative soul is gone like the nanny. I never seriously considered college until way past graduation and, looking back on it, you can partially blame the traditional educational system.
And to set the next scene, a Korean educational system background is needed.
Since the mid ‘50s, Koreans placed students into majors depending on high school grades and a SAT-equivalent test. Computer science and medical programs to the top 1 percent, public service majors to the other 99.
My dad was a computer science major.
Koreans view sports journalist a skoch below garbage man; and sports journalism is not even a major.
Though I studied in the United States, imagine my dad’s surprise to that same child holding a blueprint of a multi-million dollar corporation wanting to be a sports journalist.
To say something died inside of him would be an understatement.
But is that right? Should a father or son have to experience that mutual heartbreak, disappointment and shame?
Journalism was the only major that allowed and accepted this insanely curious nature of mine. More importantly, it’s the only major I loved.
Plus, journalism kept me at Orange Coast College, where I matured for the first time.
OCC then led to St. Bonaventure University, which led to Bond University, which led to Susie Ting’s Advertising Principles and Practice course.
And this revelation.
Susie’s teaching style is all about challenging traditional methods and discovering different ways to express similar ideas.
Including the educational system.
She assigns watching YouTube clips and “The Gruen Transfer” as homework. Our midterm consisted of taking 20 photos and making a presentation.
We’re even having our last class at Don’s Tavern.
Her ideas, openness and contagious energy helped me rediscover that inner child. To be honest, it’s the one class that inspires me and I study the most for.
To be even more honest, I love advertising as much as journalism. And (hopefully) without sounding like an arrogant prick, I have a future in both.
Since I got accepted to Bonaventure last year, I didn’t just want to be another great journalist.
I wanted to change the industry somehow.
Susie helped me realize I wanted to change this industry through different advertising models, business plans, and change how a newsroom runs and how it’s taught in schools.
And I still want to write a perfect article that is poignant, motivational and significant.
Is it as ambitious as that 6 year old or foolish as that indoor baseball field?
Susie said there is nothing wrong stripping down and questioning something that’s not effective. The communications industry’s bound-for-bankruptcy state seems like it could benefit from a new idea or two.
I want to rebrand journalism and create a revolutionary Integrated Marketing Communications campaign to be used for the next 100 years.
It’s what I said to Michael Jones-Kelley, my Bona’s adviser and an IMC professor, on the first day I met him, but not as eloquently.
Susie’s opened my eyes by her unorthodox teaching method. It also introduced me to incredible group partners and friends, Jacqui, Courtney and Em.
If someone said this advertising class — a second backup class mind you — would’ve accomplished all this, I would’ve bet the house against it.
And it’s amazing to think I had no career ambitions and only had thoughts of pretty girls, money and fame two years ago.
In fact, I wouldn’t have came to Bond without searching #journalism on Twitter, researching information about Bonaventure, listened to Denny’s pitch for the j-school and went into Bona’s study abroad office in the last year.
It’s fate. How else can you explain this story?
I know an indoor baseball diamond won’t be waiting in whatever office I work at. But I guarantee that 6 year old’s ambition, curiosity and creativity will be there, making a difference in this world.
