Students value passion of prof and ‘training in hell’

SUWON, Gyeonggi ― Professor Kwon Cheol-shin heaved a deep sigh and looked up at the clock. It was 1:08 a.m. After 11 hours, class was finally over.
Kwon, 64, who teaches systems management engineering at Sungkyunkwan University, walked the long way to his last class at the university last Monday. As he wrapped up the class, fingering a piece of chalk with a visible sense of sadness, Kwon said in his trademark low yet strong voice. “This then, will be the end. Thank you all.”
The seven undergraduate students, whose eyes were earnestly fixed on their beloved professor for hours, seemed moved. Recognizing the significance of the moment, they stood and gave Kwon an ovation. Then the students sang the Korean song for teachers, “Blessings of a Teacher.” Kwon took off his glasses, wiped his tears and said, “I did the best I could.”
It is true that Kwon gave his best effort each day. For more than 20 years, Kwon had spent six days a week sleeping and taking his meals at his office. He made his name quietly yet strongly by giving lectures that lasted for more than six hours on average. The last lecture for undergraduates continued into the winter break, because Kwon had “simply more to teach.”
Jeon Jeong-cheol, Kwon’s assistant and graduate school student, whispered, “Professor Kwon burnt the midnight oil for the last several days. He even had a nosebleed yesterday.”
The 11-hour lecture, in fact, wasn’t the longest in Kwon’s career. In summertime, Kwon used to sit down with his students for what was known as “the training in hell.” The course remained true to its name, as it had nine lectures, 31 language classes, 16 mental training sessions, 63 seminars and six physical training sessions over four weeks. Were the students happy? For students like Ahn Gi-hwan, 27, an undergraduate, it is not about mere happiness. It was an “honor,” said Ahn, who plans to join Hyundai Motor Company in the spring. Ahn said, “Professor Kwon’s classes are known for being tough yet rewarding, and students who are determined to take hard training choose it.” Ahn took Kwon’s class in business management evaluation systems even though it was not a requirement for his graduation next month.
Another student of Kwon’s, Park Oh-hui, 48, echoes Ahn’s sentiment. “I am simply amazed to see Professor Kwon’s passion unchanged from the 1980s,” Park said, recalling when he was Kwon’s student. Park is now a president of three companies of his own, after serving more than a decade at Samsung Group.
Kwon’s tears on Wednesday were joined by those of his wife, Ha Ok-su, 61, who supported her husband’s academic passion for decades. It was Ha’s job to cook a week’s worth of side dishes and other food for her husband, who came home only on Sundays. “My husband had his wedding ceremony with me, but he actually got married to his students,” Ha said, half-jokingly. Ha’s sadness, meanwhile, was swept away when Kwon called her up to the rostrum, held her hands tight and said, “Thank you, my dear. I could not have done anything without you.” Ha responded with a shy smile and moist eyes.
In the 1970s Ha was studying English literature at the well-respected Waseda University in Tokyo under a minister at a Korean church there. Ha was an aspiring scholar herself, but decided to give her full support to her husband, because she was attracted by his passion and determination.
Kwon got his masters’ and doctorate degrees in engineering at the Tokyo Institute of Technology. In Seoul, he earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees in engineering at Hanyang University, and another master’s degree in economics at Yonsei University.
Is Kwon happy to leave the teacher’s platform for undergraduates? Yes and no. He is happy that he can now concentrate 24 hours a day on his graduate students, who, by the way, all study, eat and sleep at the university. Still, Kwon is heartbroken by the fact that his lifelong dream of establishing an independent major in research and development systems management did not last long. His university once offered the major, but closed it after only six months, due to pressures from other majors, he said. Frustrated, Kwon thought about quitting his job, but he couldn’t when he thought of the eager eyes of his students.
Late last year, he got job offers from two Japanese universities that don’t have mandatory retirement age. Japan has a well-established environment that matches his academic passion for systems management, so Kwon was attracted by the offers. But after seeing his graduate students pursuing their doctorate degrees, he decided to stay in Korea two more years until his retirement at 65. “I just can’t quit, Kwon said with a faint smile.
To Kwon’s delight, many of his students, about 180 so far, work mostly in research and development for conglomerates.
Kwon has not locked himself in an ivory tower. He has been an adviser to many companies like Samsung and government bodies. After retirement, he will still pursue his passion in academics. He will stay busy and his wife will still have some alone time, but both Kwon and Ha smile and say they are happy.

By Chun Su-jin Staff Reporter [sujiney@joongang.co.kr]