Culture Essay > Culter Essay > Looking Back on the Year 2025

Sunshine's Culture Essay

Looking Back on the Year 2025

As the year comes to an end, the phrase “eventful and turbulent” truly feels real.

Through social media, the world has grown ever smaller. News from within our country reaches the world in an instant, and news from the world returns to us just as swiftly—like a flash of lightning.

The Russia–Ukraine war shows no sign of ending, and conflicts in and around Israel, South America, and closer to home, the China–Japan relations surrounding Taiwan, along with the constant domestic news we see and hear, have weighed heavily on our hearts.

On a personal level as well, many things happened.

Among them, the task of repairing, maintaining, and caring for the house where my siblings and I grew up—and where my mother has written poetry for almost her entire life—has been a particularly difficult responsibility for me.

Still, on the final day of 2025, I want to recall the things I am grateful for and the good moments.

This spring, at Doshisha University in Kyoto, an honorary doctoral degree was conferred upon the great senior poet Yun Dong-ju. I was deeply moved and happy that the university went so far as to amend a long-standing rule—one that had never allowed such a degree to be awarded posthumously.

During the university president’s lecture, the highlight of the day-long ceremony, not only were Yun Dong-ju’s poems recited, but also two poems from my own poetry collection—works that had become a major topic in the Japanese mass media twelve years ago—which filled me with profound emotion.

In October, a monument bearing Yun Dong-ju’s poetry was erected at Rikkyo University in Tokyo. Although it rained heavily that day and the narrow path leading to the monument allowed only a very small number of people to attend, I was deeply pleased to be invited as a junior poet—one who had faithfully cleaned and swept the poetry monument in Kyoto every day.

In November, to mark the 150th anniversary of Doshisha University—where I once belonged—three days of commemorative events were held. As a gesture of gratitude, I also proposed the establishment of the Yun Dong-ju Scholarship.

Most recently, the Son Ho-yeon Peace Literature Award ceremony took place. Although it is usually held in November, it was postponed to December this year due to the award recipient Cha In-pyo’s lecture schedule in Turkey and Greece.

Though Son Ho-yeon spent his entire life writing in Korea during a time when even obtaining a visa was difficult, his poetry of love was once described by the media as having “stirred the heartstrings of the Japanese archipelago.” Much of this recognition was thanks to Professor Nakanishi Susumu (中西進)—often called “the conscience of Japan” and a mentor to the Emperor—who acknowledged Son Ho-yeon’s literary merit. Thirty years ago, he suggested to my mother and me that we establish an award in Son Ho-yeon’s name. Although my mother had already passed, we were eventually able to present the award to Professor Nakanishi, then nearing his hundredth year. This year, the award was bestowed upon writer Cha In-pyo and poet Moon Tae-joon.

Looking at the winning work, If Someday We Look at the Same Star, one senses that the author seems to have long understood Son Ho-yeon’s themes of peace and reconciliation. Poet Moon Tae-joon, already an accomplished writer who has received numerous prestigious awards and regularly contributes to major newspapers, reveals in his recent prose collection Because the Flowers Are Bright, Let Us Forget Our Sorrows a gentle and warm character that calls Son Ho-yeon to mind. The five judges were unanimous in their decision.

The ceremony was hosted by poet Yoo Ja-hyo, who until recently served as president of the Poets’ Association and has been a steadfast supporter, having emceed more Son Ho-yeon-related events than anyone else at the “Poet’s House”

Poet Heo Young-ja, who delivered the congratulatory address, is a senior poet who never met Son Ho-yeon personally, yet shares a meaningful connection with him. More than twenty years ago, after my mother passed away suddenly, Professor Nakanishi—deeply saddened—consulted with the Japanese government and organized a commemorative event in Tokyo in Son Ho-yeon’s honor. The Minister of Culture even traveled by train to attend and deliver remarks. Representatives from both Korea and Japan—two poets from each country—were invited to recite their poems and engage in discussions over the course of three days in Kyoto.

At that event, with Professor Nakanishi and Poet Seungbum Choi representing each country, sijo poets Geunbae Lee and Heo Young-ja engaged in discussions with Japanese tanka poets. I still remember how proud I felt watching the Korean team respond thoughtfully and participate so actively. I also vividly recall giving the closing remarks in Korean at the end of the three-day event, and how Poet Heo Young-ja approached me gracefully afterward to say she had been deeply moved.

Professor Jaeseop Park once explained that those born in 1923 during the Japanese colonial period belonged to a generation that had no exposure to Hangul in formal education. I myself only learned this fact recently. Even young girls with a love for literature at the time had no books available to read in Korean. This was something the renowned drama writer Han Un-sa, who was born in the same year, often spoke about as well.

Language and writing are the very core of people’s spirit. When I think of that era of irreparable oppression, I can't help but feel deep sorrow and shed tears for those who lived through it.

After Professor Sungwon Lee offered a thoughtful critique of Poet Moon Taejoon’s work, and Professor Yoo Sungho Yoo provided an eloquent appraisal of Writer Cha Inpyo’s writing, the Son Hoyun Peace Literature Awards were presented to the recipients.

The acceptance speeches by Cha Inpyo and Moon Taejoon Moon both pledging to carry forward Son Hoyun’s spirit of love, peace and reconciliationwere deeply moving. Their speeches also included several poems by Son Hoyun that so vividly embodied those very ideals.

Snow falling on the sharp thorns of a wild rose
comes down softly,as if careful not to be pierced

Professor Juyoung Pack of Seoul National Univ, a world-renowned musician who has performed at the Mother Daughter Poet’s House, offered three pieces of celebratory music. Newly publish ed copies of Son Hoyun’s poetry collection <Living at the Far Edge of East Asia, I Prayed for Nothing but Peace> along with the award-winning books brought by Cha Inpyo, were distributed to the attendees.

For those who took the time to attend at the year’s end, it was a meaningful occasion to meet renowned writers and leading figures in the humanities and even received their autographs.

It was not an easy journey to reach this point, but I feel deeply grateful to have been able to bring the year to a meaningful and beautiful close.