Thursday, 5/8/97 Leading the way Achievements, hard work evoke
friends’ awe, set apart first-year Regents Scholar from crowd
By Frances Lee Daily Bruin Staff It is 9:20 a.m. In less than
three hours, Sang Muk Rex Chung has a midterm and – at the moment –
looks like he would rather be anywhere else than sitting in his
Math 32A lecture. But Rex has appearances to keep up – he is, after
all, a Regents Scholar. Still, even a Regents Scholar is human, and
as the professor scribbles down formulas on the board and throws
out words like "parabola" and "vectors" and something about the
sine (or was it cosine?) of a cylinder, Rex yawns. It is only 9:25
a.m. Rex, a first-year undeclared "leaning towards computer
science" student, is a consummate overachiever. He visits his
computer science professor during office hours just before his
midterm to make sure he understands all the concepts. While there,
Rex also expresses his disappointment that she extended the
deadline for turning in homework (his was already done). He plays
not one, but two instruments – the flute and guitar. Last year, he
ran in the L.A. Marathon. His friends all say the same thing about
him, with a mixture of reverence, envy and awe: "Rex is really
smart." So, even in a school full of "really smart" people, he has
managed to distinguish himself. Rex is also blind. But the
consummate overachiever in Rex won’t let him set any limits or
boundaries for himself, nor will he let others set them for him. In
high school, Rex said he used to drive his counselor crazy. At the
beginning of each semester, he had a routine – after picking up his
schedule, Rex would go to his counselor and ask to change his
classes. Every semester, his counselor denied this request and
every semester, Rex attended the classes he wanted to instead of
the ones he was supposed to, got permission from the teachers to
enroll and went back to his counselor with the revised schedule.
Grinning mischievously, Rex said, "I was never on good terms with
my high school counselor." But despite his constant push to
challenge himself, Rex opted to stay in high school for an extra
year – ostensibly to polish his English – but mainly because he had
"heard too many horror stories (about college). I was not ready to
go to a university." Rex contemplated staying a sixth year, but
decided against it when he figured "they’d probably kick me out"
because they were so sick of him, he said. When Rex graduated, his
counselor must have breathed a sigh of relief, but he also probably
knew that Rex would never be one to take the easy way. "Whenever I
think of him," said Hong Joon Kim, one of Rex’s high school
friends, "the first thing that appears in my mind is he is a guy
who never says ‘No’ to his friends. "It’s very comfortable to tell
(Rex) anything. I can say anything to him without him laughing."
Kim doesn’t attend UCLA, but he still calls Rex occasionally,
maintaining the bond they had formed when they first met in an
English as a Second Language class in high school five years ago.
It was in 1992 that Rex, his younger brother and sister emigrated
from Korea to join their parents, who had arrived and settled in
Los Angeles’ Koreatown three years earlier. The Rex children spent
their first two months in America "in our rooms," Rex said, because
their parents had instilled in them the fear that they might be
shot at if they ventured out into the streets of downtown Los
Angeles. They were "liberated" from their rooms on April 28, their
first day of school. "Guess what was my second day (of school)?" he
asked, grinning. Rex’s second day was April 29, the day of the L.A.
riots. "We were so happy to go to school and (then) the next day,
the riots happened. We didn’t know what was going on," Rex said. "I
thought, ‘We came all this way to die with our parents.’" They were
shut up in their rooms again, but this time, the "fear of getting
shot" was more of a reality. Even today, Rex observes that in
Koreatown, "there is (some) hostility, but I don’t feel it." "When
I talk to a person, I don’t know if they’re black or Asian or
white. They’re all ‘invisible’ to me. In that way, I’m lucky." Few
people would consider it a good thing to be blind, but Rex doesn’t
consider himself to be disadvantaged, or different. He sees himself
as a normal student, with normal concerns. "There’s a lot of
misconceptions about what I am and what disabled people are. People
fear us because they don’t know us, (but) we’re the same as they
are," he said. "They look at me as incapable. Even though I do the
same things as they do, (people) think it’s inspirational." He
shrugged, and laughed. "Maybe it’s because I can do math problems
that they can’t," Rex said. But after talking with his friends,
it’s clear that Rex’s mathematical prowess isn’t the only thing
that impresses them. Ben Liang, a second-year psychology student
and friend of Rex, said, "He’s really cool and has lots of courage.
Rex is really gung ho about everything; he wants to do everything."
"I see how beautiful the inside of him (is). It’s sad that people
only look at the outside and get scared." Rex admits that his
blindness does make it difficult for him to make friends. "There’s
a wall when I talk to people. It’s hard for me to make friends. The
two most important things (in friendship) are sharing hobbies and
(making) eye contact. Eye contact is the key to connecting. "But
that’s not the wall. (The wall) is there’s no courage (in people)
to overcome their fear." Rex was born in a culture and society that
"doesn’t treat or think of the handicapped as the more developed
countries do." In his native Korea, people still hold superstitious
prejudices against the disabled. Blind people, for example, are
considered bad luck, and Rex recalled how he was once chased out of
a store by the owner. But, according to Rex, the situation is
improving. "It’s getting better and better (for the disabled in
Korea). You can see how a country is improving by their social
benefits." When he was born, Rex did have sight in one eye. Doctors
managed to restore vision in his bad eye, but somehow, he lost the
use of his good eye. To protect him, and to give him as many
advantages as possible, Rex’s mother sent him to a school for
students with disabilities when he was in the fifth grade. There,
Rex learned Braille and excelled in his studies. He also learned
independence, since he had to live in the dorms with the other
students. During his first year at the school, a classmate hit
Rex’s good eye, and he lost all sight. He doesn’t speak of the
incident with regret, nor does he consider it a tragedy. Rather,
Rex pointed to the fact that although he spent three months in the
hospital, "somehow I didn’t fail my classes." He laughed – a
contagious laughter – while pushing up his glasses. The glasses
were a gift from his mother, one of two pairs she gave him for
graduation. Since he can’t see, the glasses are more for
appearance, he said. "It hurt my mom that children were looking at
me. I don’t like that either – don’t like people looking at me,
staring at my eyes without my knowledge," he said. A doctor
recommended artificial eyes once, because his eyes tire out too
easily – especially when he’s studying. But Rex refused. "I’m
probably still hoping, someday … " Every day, Rex makes the trek
from Sunset Village to south campus, where most of his classes are
situated. When he first came to UCLA, it took him three or four
days to get used to the layout of the campus, although he confided
that the best way to get around was "to ask." The construction on
Bruin Walk has made it a little difficult for him to get around
"because of the noise. With (a lot of) noise, I lose my sense of
direction. It’s also hard to ask for help because I don’t know if
anyone is around, or to listen to what they are saying," he said.
But apart from the construction and the noise, Rex manages to
navigate his way around the campus. "It’s a waste of memory to
memorize the number of steps" to get to a certain place, Rex said.
"Because I used to see, I can visualize the shape of a building."
As he said before, though, he is not afraid to ask for help, and
would, in fact, like to be someone that people come to for help. "I
want to be someone who’s there (for people), who people like to
come and ask questions, someone they like to talk to," he said.
This is why Rex entertains the idea of becoming a professor.
Currently, however, he is still "leaning towards computer science."
Computer science – the "building" of computer programs – he said,
is "sculpture that I can do. It’s like being an architect. If you
put (something) in the wrong place, (the program) will fall down."
Rex smiled. He knows a lot about falling down. If there is anything
"inspirational" about him, it is not that he has "overcome"
adversities related to his blindness. What is inspirational about
Rex is that he falls down, but he always picks himself up. "Other
than the fact that he can’t see, it doesn’t affect anything else,"
said Jackie Wong, a first-year undeclared student. "Rex makes great
efforts (to understand people). People should make the effort
back." JUSTIN WARREN/Daily Bruin Rex Chung shares a laugh with his
friend Ben Liang. JUSTIN WARREN/Daily Bruin Rex listens to
Professor Stacey while (most) classmates jot notes in Math 32A. Rex
takes notes using his Braille slate. Rex jokes with friends Jenifer
Lum and Ben Liang in his room at Sunset Village after the three of
them returned from an evening out together. PHOTOS BY SHAWN
LAKSMI/Daily Bruin Rex uses a Braille slate to take notes in his
English class. Rex heads to a late afternoon workout in John Wooden
Center.