First off, the group wasn’t what I’d call “predominantly African American”—it’s far more accurate to say it was multi-ethnic. There were African Americans, Caucasians, Korean-Americans, Africans, mixed families, and Europeans. All this is to say—it was a wonderfully diverse and vibrant community. The segment leaned into that diversity, emphasizing how “unusual” it was to see a Korean-American in a leadership role in such a setting. That might seem like a surprising dynamic, but it’s not really what defined this community.

Secondly, the community was already thriving long before I ever showed up. It was an incredible group of people—easily the most welcoming and supportive environment I’ve had the chance to be part of. My predecessor, Dr. Dennis Edwards, had cultivated a truly inclusive space where people didn’t care about anyone’s ethnic background—they cared about character and commitment. He laid the foundation for everything that people now admire about the place. I mentioned him several times during my interviews, and it frustrated me that he received no recognition at all. The final cut made it seem like I brought openness and fairness into the space, when in reality, it had already existed for years before I arrived.

Third, I come off extremely well in the piece. They basically made me look like a saint—which I’m grateful for, but let’s be honest, it was also a bit of creative editing. Almost everything I said in the interviews was sliced, rearranged, and repackaged. For example, at one point I said, “I’m just going to bring it…”—which in context meant I was going to show up with focus, dedication, and give it my all. But the narration made it seem like I was talking about bringing some abstract attitude of open-mindedness. That wasn’t what I meant at all. The people I worked with valued action, honesty, and consistency. That’s what connected us—not a buzzword, but real shared effort.

I’m not sharing this to criticize the CBS Sunday Morning crew—I’m actually deeply thankful for the segment. By the end of the process, we had built a great rapport, and I appreciated their efforts. I know they were trying to craft the most compelling story possible within tight constraints. But I do think it’s worth highlighting these nuances—not out of ego, but for the sake of truth, and to caution against a common media pattern.

When one person is singled out and lionized for something good, while the contributions of many others are overlooked, it can distort the story in harmful ways. It suggests that only rare individuals are capable of doing meaningful work, and everyone else is just a supporting character. That’s not only inaccurate—it’s discouraging.

A more honest summary might have been: “A Korean-American Ivy League graduate chooses an unexpected path and becomes a leader in a diverse setting, where collaboration and mutual respect have already been long established.” That story might seem less dramatic, but it’s far more real. And it’s far more helpful—because it shows that real change is rarely the result of one person’s efforts.

In fact, I couldn’t even live up to the version of me that the segment presented—and I am that person. The truth is, many people were responsible for the story they told: Dr. Edwards, community members, my wife, and yes, me. It was a shared journey, a collective accomplishment.

When we highlight only the hero and not the village, we send a subtle but dangerous message: that unless you’re exceptional, your contributions don’t matter. And that’s just not true. If someone like me—a very ordinary person with plenty of flaws and limitations—can be part of something meaningful, then so can anyone.

Yes, some people will always play larger, more visible roles in efforts like these. Maybe I’m one of them, even though I don’t see myself that way. But no leader accomplishes anything meaningful alone. The biggest things we do are never solo acts—they’re always carried forward by the quiet, consistent efforts of many people working together.