John S. W. Park
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Associate Professor and Assistant Dean, Asian American Studies and College of Letters
and Science
Personal Profile
My mother came to the United States from Korea with my older brother
and me in 1975, when I was five. We lived in Los Angeles and Orange County, then
moved to the Bay Area when my brother Edward started college at Cal and I started
high school. (It’s a pretty tight family when your family joins you for college.)
My mother passed away in 1999. Ed also became a professor, at Loyola Marymount University
in Los Angeles, and we dedicated our first book together to our mom.
By the time
I was done with my formal education, I’d spent twelve years in college and graduate
school. I took my first academic job at the University of Texas at Austin in 2000,
then in 2002, I started here at UCSB; I got tenure in 2005. My wife and I have three
daughters now, and we live in Goleta, about four miles from campus.
Research Interests
I’ve been obsessed with immigration law and policy for a long time now, ever since
I was a kid. I mean really, I’m from an immigrant family. My doctoral dissertation
was on the philosophical and moral problems associated with immigration law, and
about the development of federal immigration law and its impact on the first racial
group targeted for federal exclusion, namely Asians. My background and training
are in law and public policy, and I became an Asian Americanist rather late in my
academic life. I really enjoy teaching in ethnic studies, and because so much in
the field of immigration requires interdisciplinary and comparative perspectives,
my work is never boring.
Teaching Style
My favorite professors in college were really
enthusiastic about their lectures and topics, and they were so thoroughly prepared
that they seemed to anticipate any question. They were quite simply brilliant. And
yet they were also very humble: as active researchers, they explained complex problems
that they were working on, problems that had yet to be solved, and this was like
an invitation of sorts, a way of saying that young students like me could contribute
and develop a field of knowledge and expand our collective horizons.
I want my students
to come to class not because they have to, but because they really want to. I want
my students to realize that the universe of what we know is much, much smaller (teeny
tiny) compared to the universe of things worth knowing. I want to share my obsessions,
and to encourage others to pursue their own intellectual passions.
Idea of a Good
Time
Before the children were born, I enjoyed traveling, fishing, and reading, sometimes
all together. My wife isn’t really into fish, but we traveled a lot together. Lately,
because of the kids, we’ve been going to museums, libraries, zoos, aquariums, amusement
parks, and on family vacations. When the kids have fun, I have fun, too. And on
most days, I go running.
But I really enjoy being a professor—I thoroughly enjoy
reading, writing, advising, and teaching. Grading tends to be less fun, but with
that one exception, it’s all good. I think even if I were independently wealthy,
I would still be a professor, and some days, I can’t believe I’m being paid to do
these things I’ve always enjoyed. I truly love being immersed in a world of ideas.
Most Important Thing to Learn at College
The most important thing I got out of my
own education was a sense of humility. When I was eighteen, I had already been pretty
successful in school, and so I tended to be an arrogant, cocky know-it-all. In college,
I slowly realized that I really hadn’t known anything at all. What I knew before
college could fill a thimble, what I knew after could fill a bucket. And yet I learned—the
most important thing I learned—was that there is an ocean of things to know and
explore, so much, much more than any one life could possibly fit. I came to college
feeling immortal and limitless, but left a more sober, humble person.
(Consider
this: Most undergraduates here will take between forty to fifty classes before they
graduate. This University offers over two thousand, every year. And we design dozens
of new ones all the time.)
I hope you’ll leave with a greater appreciation of how
complex things really are, and of how important and wonderful and transformative
learning can be. I hope you’ll learn how to learn, and then never stop wanting to
learn and to know and to expand your own horizons.
Advice for New Students at UCSB
Please don’t underestimate both how difficult and how fun college can be. For many
new students, especially freshmen, this will be the first time they’ll be unsupervised,
where no one will tell them what to do, when to study, what to eat, when to go to
bed, or how to party responsibly and in moderation. College can be hard because
there are so many pleasant distractions everywhere, all the time, and yet precisely
because of that, things can get out of hand quickly. Learn to balance—whatever you’ve
heard about UCSB, it’s first and foremost a major research university full of rigorous
and highly motivated professors and scholars, all of whom tend to derive much of
their pleasure and “fun” in a lab or a library or in quiet study and reflection.
Goof off too much in their classes and it won’t be fun eventually. An F is no fun.
On the other hand, if you’re able to focus, if you find an intellectual or artistic
or creative passion that you want to nurture, this place has endless opportunity.
You can learn string theory, take violin, a seminar on successive waves of immigration
to the United States, and surf, all in the same day. There’s just no other setting
for young people to have that kind of life. If you can balance school and play,
if you can make school as enjoyable as your play, college is amazing, and this place
will just blow your mind. Oh, the places you’ll go.
And that leads to my last piece
of advice: if you want to spend lots of time with people your own age, but unencumbered
by responsibility or outside demands, if the desire for partying is too great, or
if you’ve suffered a devastating loss or illness, either yourself or someone you love, or if you are too immature or too unfocused or too uncertain, if you know only vaguely why you’re in college—in short, if you’re not ready for serious academic work—then it’s not a bad idea to deal with these other things first, to grow and mature in other ways, and then come back to college when you’re truly in the right frame of mind.
When my mother died, I took a year off from almost everything. I eventually worked in a law firm, about six months after her death, but I didn’t do anything scholarly for another year. It seemed a natural occasion to pause, to think critically about my life, and for a time, I thought I might be a lawyer instead of a professor. Yet when I went back to my dissertation, I was surprised to find how much I’d missed it, how much I loved it. During that time, I also figured out that I wanted to become a parent, too, to have a vibrant family life even though I knew that pain and loss are inevitable in all families.
It’s a lot of pressure to start college, to find a decent major (quickly), to get decent grades, to finish in four years. But as much as possible, arrange your time here so that you’ll enjoy your journey. And don’t be surprised if you must take a detour now and then before you reach your destination.
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