Blog from W.P

Finding Joy in Research, Even Late in the Game
This past April, I experienced a deeply moving moment that made me feel grateful for my decision to return to academia. I received news that the results of my research would be published in Nature Materials, a prestigious journal in the field of materials science, after less than two years of effort. In that instant, I let out a quiet exclamation to myself: "Ah, I did it!"

When I graduated from university in 2002, South Korea was in the midst of a venture boom. Thinking, "I should take on this challenge, too," I joined a startup founded by one of my senior classmates, nurturing dreams of becoming a future CTO. But five years later, that dream collapsed. The harsh realities of the world proved insurmountable. I was left wondering: What should I do now?

Around that time, Professor Sunghoon Kwon joined the university and sent out an email recruiting students to conduct research in his lab. The email included his profile. Professor Kwon wasn’t much older than me—how had he already achieved enough to become a professor?

When I met him for the first time, I boldly asked questions like, "How did you manage to become a professor?" and "What’s your greatest strength?" I can’t remember exactly what he said in response, but now I know the answer: dreams and passion.

Talking to Professor Kwon reignited the dreams I had long forgotten and rekindled the passion I had buried while compromising with reality. When I shared my aspiration of becoming an exceptional scholar, Professor Kwon focused not on the 99% chance that I might fail but on the 1% possibility that I could succeed. He helped me see that possibility and gave me the confidence to restart my academic journey.

But at the beginning, there was nothing. The lab was just two empty rooms, and the only other member was my junior, Sueun Jung. There was hardly anything we could do at first. However, when you work with passion, it seems that people around you start to notice and offer help. Professor Kap-Yang Seo in the Department of Mechanical Engineering lent us equipment, and Professor Young June Park from the Department of Nano Systems Engineering supported us in every way he could.

After a semester, things started to fall into place. Fourth-year undergraduates joined the lab to work on their graduation projects, and the lab suddenly became a large family. We aimed to create the best lab in the world, taking an interest in one another’s research, debating, and offering feedback. We shared knowledge, motivated each other, and encouraged one another to pursue our dreams. Every evening after dinner, we’d gather in the lab, chatting for an hour about both our personal lives and our research, naturally fostering a close and vibrant atmosphere.

The idea for the paper published in Nature Materials emerged during one of those casual conversations in April of last year. Professor Kwon suggested applying the concept of train tracks to microchannels. At first, none of us thought this idea would ever make it into a cover paper. But as we pursued it with passion, the outlines of the project became clear about a year later. If we had hesitated or dismissed the idea with a "Will this even work?" mindset, we wouldn’t have achieved such a great result.

Wook Park

This is a post I wrote for the BINEL bulletin board (http://binel.snu.ac.kr) at the suggestion of Professor Sunghoon Kwon, who asked us to write about our dreams as part of a relay.

Let me talk about dreams.

For me, dreams were nothing more than a convenient answer when someone asked, "What do you want to be?" When I was young, I think I said I wanted to be a scientist. Perhaps it was because I loved robot cartoons like Astro Boy, Mazinger Z, and Tetsujin 28-go. But I don’t think those dreams influenced me profoundly. Maybe it was just that I enjoyed science classes and, whenever I went to a bookstore, I naturally gravitated toward the science section.

If you studied hard in middle and high school, they called you a fool at Seoul National University. Believe it or not, I was one of those kids who did pretty well academically back then. My "dream" at the time? To get into a good university. Specifically, to get into SNU. Looking back now, that wasn’t really a dream—it was just a short-term goal. I studied hard with the vague belief that getting into a prestigious school would guarantee a good life, and I eventually achieved it.

But reality was harsh. My grades were at rock bottom, and I couldn’t find a way to improve. The only thing I had going for me was my involvement in SIGMA, a hardware club, where I tinkered with random projects, and the skills I picked up as a network and computer assistant in the computer lab. I’d entered SNU with a vague thought that becoming a professor would be nice, but the moment I saw my grades, I gave up on that idea entirely. There were simply too many peers and seniors ahead of me. Adding up their numbers, I realized there wouldn’t be any professor positions left for someone like me.

After graduation, I decided to leverage my strengths and joined Elesign, a startup founded by my seniors, as something like an early member. There were four seniors who had launched it, and I joined in the first year of its establishment. I think I worked hard and had fun. I felt proud when a product I planned was manufactured, sold, and even generated revenue. It was deeply rewarding to see my ideas reflected in the product and to watch it perform well. During this time, I also met Hosuk and Sangkwon.

But after a promising start in the first couple of years, the company began to struggle. By the fifth year, there were months with no revenue at all, and eventually, the company closed. I was left with a critical life decision: Should I leverage my five years of experience and join Samsung SDS as a mid-career hire, or should I go back to graduate school? I chose graduate school without much hesitation. My reasoning? I figured I could earn a master’s degree and then join KT, which seemed like a comfortable and stable place to work based on my visits to their research labs during my startup days.

That’s when I joined BINEL. I initially planned to pursue communications-related research, but I applied to Professor Sunghoon Kwon’s new lab as a backup, just in case. It turned out that Professor Kwon was a junior to one of my seniors at Elesign, and he’d even asked about me before the interview. And so, through this connection, I started working at BINEL.

At the time, dreams were still just something I would mention if asked—something I didn’t truly believe I was allowed to pursue. When Professor Kwon first asked me about my dream, I said I wanted to become a professor. Not because it was a lie, but because I felt like I needed something to say. I’d never truly believed my entire life had to revolve around that one goal. Saying it out loud, though, felt a little embarrassing.

But Professor Kwon listened carefully and said it was possible. He even painted a plausible scenario for me: graduating and becoming a professor right away. When I initially shared my dream, it seemed like a modest and improbable vase, but after hearing his encouragement and perspective, it felt like he handed it back to me filled with flowers. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so impossible. As we continued to talk about my dream throughout my doctoral program, those flowers grew fuller, and I began to see it as a genuine, tangible vision of the future.

Let me shift gears for a moment. Beware of people who say, "Have a dream, and it will come true," or ads that claim the same. Dreams don’t come true just because you have them. People who fail to achieve their dreams didn’t fail because they lacked dreams. The world isn’t that simple.

I consider myself incredibly lucky. The reason I’ve been able to conduct research and become a professor isn’t just because I had a dream. It’s largely because I joined BINEL—90%, or maybe even 95%, of my success is due to that. The world is full of hardworking, capable, and talented people. There are plenty of people who have dreams, work hard, and excel. I am here because I was lucky.

Even so, I believe having a dream is important. Without a dream, you don’t imagine. And without imagination, you’re left only with reality—a reality that is often cold and bleak. But when you dream, you start to imagine, and imagination brings joy to reality. When reality becomes enjoyable, you can work hard. The work we do is like running a marathon, not a sprint. It’s about experimenting over and over again, often without immediate results, until the craftmanship brings something meaningful to light. If you don’t enjoy it, you won’t last. And if you don’t work hard, you might miss the rare opportunities that luck brings your way.

BINEL brought me that luck. And I believe that luck is like a seed that will grow. I hope each of you at BINEL will take out your own small dreams and let them see the light. Let’s help each other nurture those dreams into something real and meaningful. And may we work hard together to be ready for the moments when luck knocks on our doors.

Dear MultiplexONians,

It’s hard to believe that nearly a year has passed since I began this journey as a professor. The title of “professor,” which once felt distant and abstract, still feels unfamiliar to me. Especially as I continue to divide my time between Seoul National University and Kyung Hee University, I often feel like I’m living a dual life. At SNU, I sometimes feel like I’m still a graduate student, while at Kyung Hee, I’m reminded of my role as a professor. Yet, this duality isn’t unpleasant—it keeps me grounded and reflective.

This winter feels different compared to last summer. Perhaps it’s because, for the first time, I have graduate students of my own. It brings back memories of my early days in the lab with Professor Sunghoon Kwon at SNU. I remember the first semester with my classmate, Su Eun, and how, during the following winter break, we welcomed our first junior members—Hyoki, Junhoi, and Seonghwan. I can still picture their wide-eyed expressions as they introduced themselves and looked to the professor for guidance, brimming with both curiosity and uncertainty. I even remember how our very first lab meeting ran for over three hours, leaving Sueun utterly drained, and how we all headed to dinner afterward, exhausted but excited.

Looking back, I realize that the reason I’ve made it to where I am today is not because I possessed extraordinary abilities from the beginning. Rather, it’s because I was given opportunities to grow and develop the skills and qualities a professor should have. Having juniors join the lab in those early days—when I still knew so little myself—pushed me to strive to be a better role model, to teach, and to learn alongside them. That sense of responsibility, combined with the fear of falling short, became the driving force that shaped me and gradually brought me to where I stand today.

As MultiplexONians, when the time comes for you to complete this journey, you, too, will find yourselves transformed. But don’t settle for vague hopes like, “Things will just somehow be different” or “I’ll improve, won’t I?” Instead, I encourage you to envision your dreams more concretely and actively expand the metaphorical bag that will hold them. Don’t let fear of the unknown or uncertainty about how to proceed hold you back. Take a moment to reflect on the reasons you’ve put off chasing your dreams and the purpose of your life. Imagine the vessel that will hold your aspirations and ambitions, and consider how you can shape and fill it.

While we are here together as MultiplexONians, let’s support one another and do our utmost to ensure that each of us can achieve as much as we aspire to. Let’s help each other grow and push the boundaries of what we think is possible, both individually and as a team.

▶ Please introduce yourself.
Hello, my name is Wook Park, and I am currently a professor in the Department of Electronic Engineering at Kyung Hee University. I am a purely domestically trained researcher without any overseas experience. I graduated from the Department of Electrical Engineering at Seoul National University and worked at a venture company founded by my senior colleagues for five years, carrying big dreams of success. Despite the passion and enthusiasm of the young employees, the company unfortunately had to close. I decided to return to school to further my studies and completed my master’s and doctoral programs under the supervision of Professor Sunghoon Kwon in the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering at Seoul National University. Afterward, I was fortunate to receive an excellent opportunity to join Kyung Hee University, where I have been working ever since.

▶ Please introduce your main research areas.
I am working on creating micro-patterns and structures using 3D printing technology based on MEMS (Micro-Electro-Mechanical Systems) technology in the micro domain. These are utilized as tools for various applications, particularly in information processing. Primarily, my research focuses on creating micro-sized barcodes and QR codes that are applied to multiplex diagnostics in the biofield. I am also exploring a DNA storage platform where DNA clusters are used to enable data indexing and storage.

▶ You are recognized as a global authority in DNA-based memory technology, achieving outstanding results in this field. Can you tell us more about your research?
The amount of data produced globally is increasing exponentially, with most of it generated in the last five years. This data needs to be stored, as it is not consumed immediately. Data centers manage such data efficiently by categorizing less frequently used but long-term data as "cold data." Developing next-generation storage technologies to replace hard disk drives (HDDs) has become crucial for storing vast amounts of data. In the U.S., Microsoft, Harvard University, and the University of Washington, among others, have formed government-led consortia to develop DNA memory technologies.
DNA memory is a technology that converts binary digital data (0s and 1s) into quaternary data composed of A, G, T, and C, and stores it in DNA biochemical molecules. This next-generation technology can store all the data produced globally in just 1 kg of powdered DNA. My research focuses on the essential device technologies required for DNA memory, which have not yet been fully developed.

▶ What are your personal reflections from your research journey so far?
Research remains challenging and feels endless, much like running a marathon. I often question whether I am doing well and if I am suited for research. This pressure may stem from the need to perform well and achieve good results. Viewing colleagues as competitors in a race can make the journey feel lonely and isolating. While such pressure can bring out one's inner strength, it can also lead to burnout. Instead, I try to view it as a battle with myself, running as far as I want to go and seeing those around me as companions on this journey. Without these companions, I wouldn’t be able to go as far, and even if I did, it would feel empty.

▶ Beyond DNA memory, you have worked on anti-counterfeiting technology and other areas vital in the age of big data and AI. Do you have any new research directions or aspirations?
In reality, research often demands short-term results, making it hard to focus on areas that require significant time and effort but yield slower outcomes. While I will continue to work on DNA memory, anti-counterfeiting technology, and big data, I am also interested in fundamental areas seemingly unrelated to my field, such as addressing food security or male hair loss.

▶ Is there a figure or researcher who has greatly influenced you?
The person who influenced me the most is my doctoral advisor, Professor Sunghoon Kwon of Seoul National University. When he joined the university, he recruited his first group of lab students, and I was fortunate to work with him. At just 32 years old, he was only three years older than me, yet he exuded passion and confidence in research. I never felt much of an age difference working with him. Even now, when I reach out to him, he continues to inspire me with his constant growth in research and tech entrepreneurship.

▶ Do you have a specific paper that holds a special place in your career?
One paper that stands out for me is "Guided and fluidic self-assembly of microstructures using railed microfluidic channels," published in Nature Materials in 2008, where I was the lead author. At that time, publishing in major journals like Nature or its sister journals from the field of electronic engineering was rare enough to make headlines. Our lab was less than two years old, and we didn’t even have all the necessary equipment. We relied heavily on support from neighboring labs, which made the experience all the more memorable.

▶ What advice would you give to students aspiring to pursue this field?
Boundaries between fields are rapidly disappearing. Popular disciplines and departments are shifting, and new ones emerge daily. During such times, it is important to build a solid foundation and approach new fields with an open mind and a willingness to learn continuously. The era of relying on knowledge learned once throughout a lifetime is over. We now live in a time where we must constantly learn and adapt, even until the day we retire.

▶ Lastly, what are your future plans?
I aim to connect with experts from various fields to identify hidden problems in the world and work toward solving meaningful challenges. I believe it’s time to go beyond lab-level research and strive to apply our technologies in real-life contexts, turning ideas into tangible solutions for everyday life.

KMEMS and BioChip were the academic conferences I regularly attended during my graduate school years. Especially BioChip—it was a fledgling conference at the time, though I didn’t realize it back then.

I still remember my first time attending; it was held at KAIST in Daejeon. At that point, I knew so little about bio-related topics that I couldn’t even understand the titles of papers unless they were about microfluidics or micro-lithography.

For several years, I kept attending those conferences. Even now, I don’t fully understand everything, but I continue to study and strive to grasp the material.

When you attend a conference, don’t be afraid of unfamiliar terms or concepts. That’s precisely why you’re there—to recognize what you don’t know and learn about it. However, don’t ignore or gloss over these unfamiliar concepts. Even if you avoid them temporarily, you will encounter them again. If you’re reluctant to study them the next time, they will remain a minefield in your intellectual landscape.

These “mines” represent your gaps in knowledge. Ignorance left unaddressed becomes a fear that prevents your brain from exploring the boundless possibilities of imagination. Don’t settle for vague guesses—seek to fully understand these concepts and turn them into your weapons.

There’s no shame in not knowing something. Not knowing simply means you have an empty jar waiting to be filled with knowledge. Each jar you fill becomes a lifelong asset—a piece of intellectual property that will stay with you forever.

What’s truly shameful is not knowing what you don’t know or, worse, refusing to make an effort to learn when you do know. Don’t boast with the loud clanging of a few half-filled jars. Such noise doesn’t align with the dignity and character of a true scholar.

Instead, embrace the journey of learning. Fill those jars with knowledge, one by one, and carry them with quiet pride as your lasting treasures.

Collaboration, idea sharing, and open communication are essential in research. Discuss your ideas openly, help your peers solve their problems, and pay close attention to what others are working on. Reflect on whether there’s something you can learn or contribute to their work.

Don’t approach your doctoral studies with the ordinary goal of just obtaining a degree. You’ve entered graduate school to become a pioneer of knowledge. Achieving this requires the generation and validation of new ideas. You won’t be able to execute every idea you come up with. However, the ideas you discard might be exactly what one of your peers has been desperately searching for.

Human nature often inclines us to hoard our ideas, keeping them hidden away. Overcoming this tendency is vital. Similarly, people are often quick to dismiss the ideas of others. The deeper we delve into a field, the more our minds instinctively try to find faults in others’ ideas. While challenging, we must also rise above this inclination.

In academia, you’ll encounter individuals who succumb to darker tendencies—what we might call "intellectual thieves." These researchers rarely share their work openly. Instead, they rely on vague, ambiguous descriptions. They specialize in pointing out flaws in the work of their peers. Such researchers often present grand ideas but leave out critical details that prevent others from replicating or building on their work. They are like one-way valves for knowledge—information flows in but rarely comes back out.

These individuals replace the core purpose of discovery and publication with self-serving motives, focusing on empire-building or competing for fleeting recognition.

In contrast, you should embrace transparency in your work. Be honest about what you’ve achieved and what you haven’t. Even when engaging with such "intellectual thieves," resist the temptation to hide your ideas out of fear they might be stolen. Show patience and openness—these qualities can serve as a remedy for the darker tendencies that sometimes plague our field.

By openly sharing your work, you contribute to a research culture that fosters collaboration, trust, and genuine progress. In the long run, this approach builds a legacy far more impactful than hoarded ideas or hidden agendas.

These days, many of you are working hard reading research papers. At times, you may wonder: "Why do I need to read papers?" or "How should I approach reading them?" As you wrestle with a paper, you might find yourself thinking: "Why am I so bad at reading these? Is there even a point to this?" Rest assured, you’re not alone. I’ve been through the same struggles, and even now, reading papers is no easy task for me.

Let’s start by discussing the value of research papers and why they are worth reading. Academic papers are among the most logical, creative, and useful forms of writing in the world. Yet, I wonder if we truly appreciate the value of these papers, which we download so easily every day. The papers you’re reading are carefully vetted and selected by experts in the field. They go through a rigorous peer-review process to earn a place in respected journals. In short, they are validated both in content and form.

Consider why you chose to attend graduate school, perhaps hoping to learn from excellent professors or use state-of-the-art equipment. Why? Because given the time and effort you’ll invest, you naturally want to study in the most selective and high-quality environment possible. Our time is finite, so it makes sense to aim for optimal conditions for research within the time we have.

Now think about what it takes to become the best athlete. You need to consume food rich in nutrients, avoiding instant or junk food. In the same way, the papers you read are like nutritious, high-quality food for your mind.

By reading research papers—the foundational sources of knowledge—you’re gaining insights not from second-hand summaries, translations, or fragmented sources like blogs, but directly from the original, unfiltered material. This is akin to consuming the best, most nutritious food available in your field of study. Whether you’re at MIT, Harvard, or anywhere else, students in top institutions are reading these same papers to learn and grow.

For those of you engaged in paper studies, particularly analyzing cutting-edge research hot off the press, you’re actually ahead of many research groups. It might sound surprising, but by reading papers that have only just been accepted or are available online pre-publication, you’re accessing some of the most current and advanced information in the world.

I am genuinely proud of you for diving into this effort—exploring preprints and acquiring knowledge straight from the forefront of your field.

Of course, there are many other benefits to reading papers, but we’ll save those for another discussion. For now, remember that reading papers is like feeding your mind with organic, high-quality nutrients essential for your intellectual growth and success.

I have shared my thoughts on the significance of academic papers. Being able to access valuable research papers is a privilege, one you should appreciate. The hefty tuition fees you pay contribute to subscription licenses that grant you access to these papers, so make the most of this right.

On my laptop, I store countless files and data. If I were to choose the most important among them, I’d say it’s the collection of papers I’ve organized over the years. Even though my research career has been relatively short, these papers, gathered one by one since the days when I knew little, are one of my most treasured assets.

Now, if you ask me whether I remember every paper I’ve read, I can confidently tell you:

"No, not at all. Most are a blur."

It’s impossible to read every paper in detail. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of papers I’ve fully read word for word. Most of the time, I skim through them, focusing on key points. Yet, whether I read a paper thoroughly or skimmed it, every paper I’ve encountered leaves a certain impression. These impressions can sometimes be brief and clear, while other times, they are hazy, like a vague cloud.

Later on, these impressions may resurface, helping you recall old papers or past ideas. Perhaps you’ll remember the title of a paper, look it up, and read it from the beginning again. With some luck, you might even reconnect with the ideas you had when you first read it.

Let me shift gears a bit. Imagine you’re an hour away from an important exam. What would you do?

1. Skim through the highlighted parts of your textbook or review your summary notes.

2. Start reading a new textbook from the beginning.

In my case, the papers I’ve read and saved contain highlighted sections, notes about the ideas I had, and questions that came to mind while reading. These traces are like the impressions left on the papers. Going back to these papers is like stepping into a time machine, revisiting the moment when I first read them. It’s as if the past and present versions of myself are collaborating to read the paper together. Your previous impressions create new ones, and these fresh impressions prepare you for the future. At some point, these impressions could spark an idea—a spark that, through various stages, could lead to something meaningful in the world.

But is it enough to simply leave impressions on papers?
Unorganized impressions, no matter how brilliant, are like scattered sticky notes lying around. When you first write something on a sticky note, it might feel like important information. But if it ends up floating around your desk or stuck between books, it becomes impossible to find when you actually need it. You’ll only stumble across it later during a desk cleanup.

That’s why organization is crucial.
Just as a well-arranged store display commands higher prices than a messy stall, your intellectual impressions need to be collected and organized. These curated impressions become your invaluable intellectual property.

Take the time to organize your notes and ideas. Turn the fleeting impressions into a systematized collection of your intellectual journey. This is the foundation of your personal treasure trove of knowledge.

"The final exam will be replaced with a presentation of your project."
"Mr. Kim, you need to prepare a company introduction for the client tomorrow."
"The first round of professor recruitment is document screening; the second round is an open lecture."
"Project evaluations will be based on the research leader's 30-minute presentation."

The clock is ticking, and the pressure is on. How do you start preparing in such situations? Reflecting on your previous less-than-stellar presentation experiences, what do you prioritize first? Do you recall a particularly impressive PPT you once saw and start hunting for a similar template or design? Maybe you scour the internet for stylish templates or sample slides, thinking they’ll help you deliver a dazzling presentation.

But after all that effort, do you sometimes feel dissatisfied—like wearing a suit that doesn’t quite fit? Do you catch yourself blaming the template or your design skills, wishing you were better at creating visuals?

Let’s explore the path to an effective presentation, starting with you, the presenter.

Imagine yourself as a medieval knight setting off to rescue a princess tomorrow. With so little time to prepare, what would you do first? You’d probably visit a weapon shop to buy a good sword. But remember, having a powerful weapon doesn’t guarantee victory. The stronger the sword, the heavier and harder it is to wield. The key is to find a weapon you can handle effectively. If you’re tempted by an exceptional weapon, you must first develop the skills and strength to wield it. When your abilities align with the weapon’s potential, you become a knight capable of rescuing the princess from a fearsome monster.

In this metaphor, your presentation materials are the weapon, and you are the knight.

If you have a presentation to give tomorrow, don’t waste time chasing after new and fancy tools. Instead, focus on reviewing and practicing with the materials you already have. Test your slides, rehearse your delivery, and read through your script repeatedly.

Now, if you have plenty of time before your presentation, you can aim to enhance your skills and find better tools. In that case, seek out stronger weapons, sharpen their edges, and build the skills and stamina to wield them effectively. Together, we can explore ways to become better presenters and elevate your presentations to the next level. Of course, having a good sword—or in this case, well-designed slides—is still important.

When the day arrives, you’ll step into your battlefield, which might be a small meeting room or a grand auditorium. Take a moment to assess your surroundings. In smaller venues, there might not even be a podium, but larger spaces typically have one. Look around—beside or behind the podium, there will usually be a screen for your slides, varying in size depending on the venue.

If there’s a large screen, you’ll likely stand beside a podium or onstage if there isn’t one. Many describe presentations as a form of "integrated art." They require planning, design skills to express your ideas, and effective delivery on stage. To better understand this "integrated art," let’s break the presentation process into two main components:

1. The materials projected on the screen

2. You, the presenter on stage

To put it simply, the presentation materials resemble a film, while the presenter is more like a theater actor.

While we’ll delve deeper into the cinematic aspects of presentation materials in a later discussion, this segment will focus on you as the presenter. Let’s explore how to bring out your best performance on stage.