The first shot fired in the new trend of discovering gifted children was the small art magazine Palette.
[Feature Article: A Small Light in the Darkness – An Interview with Go Hana, Winner of the Hanul Youth Art Competition]
Go Hana (Daesan Elementary School, 11 years old): “For me, drawing was a small light that connected me to the world.”
Lim Ahra (Daesan Elementary School teacher, 28 years old): “All the students in the class would always watch Hana, who was always drawing in the corner of the classroom. I did, too. I think everyone had the same thought… ‘Ah, this child is really special.’”
[Excerpt] …The interview, which was surprisingly calm and profound, made the writer feel as if they were having a conversation with artists who had just finished their solo exhibitions. Perhaps the single answer this little girl gave would become one part of the world of art that she would continue to create…
Thanks to the long history of the magazine, Palette had unknowingly been subscribed to by studios and galleries. (Mostly because previous staff had subscribed without much thought and left it unattended.)
So, this 5-page interview about the new prodigy spread quietly but surely among people in the industry.
At an art gallery, where news of the art world was most actively followed…
“Did you see the latest Palette?”
“I did. The one who won the Hanul Competition, right? Wow… her looks, her story—it’s like something out of a movie. How did someone like that come out of nowhere?”
“I heard that the team organizing the youth art festival is quickly reaching out to her.”
“Seems like she’s good at drawing attention. The… mask is a real trick, honestly.”
“She’s already famous among people working with newsletters.”
Among Residency artists (artists who live in studios funded by corporations or organizations)…
“Hey, Kim, did you see the Palette interview?”
“Hmm? Interview?”
“That pretty one. The elementary schooler who won the Hanul competition.”
“Ah, yeah, I saw that. Is she the daughter of some famous actor? Why are they pushing her so much? Is she just one of those kids who won a small competition and the media made a big deal of it?”
“Well, Hanul’s group is kind of running the art world right now…”
“Her parents passed away, I heard. She lives with her uncle.”
“…That poor child’s been through a lot.”
The topic of this girl, who had started to appear in the conversations of industry veterans, gradually spread.
The art world in South Korea was small. Most people were tightly connected by personal networks, academic connections, or family ties. In short, it was a world where everyone knew everyone else.
In that environment, the appearance of this girl, who could easily become the subject of gossip (mostly about her looks and background), was naturally a topic of conversation.
“The one who won the Hanul competition…?”
“You mean Go Hana, right?”
“That pretty one…?”
“Yeah, the elementary schooler…”
And within the staff of the ‘Hanul Comprehensive Art School,’ rumors quietly spread – “She passed Professor Ahn Soo-young’s test, and she might even enter early.” This only fueled the growing buzz around her.
Before long, “that girl” had become a topic of conversation across the art industry. The news had spread far enough that even those working in other fields—journalists, TV producers, advertising agencies—heard about it.
And what did they want? Not detailed industry commentary, but a strong, unmistakable character. They wanted someone whose story would instantly captivate even the most uninformed viewer.
“So, she’s just an elementary schooler, and she’s beating high school and middle school students in competitions?”
“She’s the best among youth artists in Korea?”
“Her parents both passed away?”
“She grew up in a poor family and taught herself, but she beat a rich kid who had studied abroad?”
“And now, she’s about to skip elementary school and enter art school early?”
“She’s a genius who only comes around once in a century?”
Her striking appearance.
Her humble background.
Her modest words and demeanor.
Her mature yet innocent nature.
And her victory over a celebrated young prodigy.
All these dramatic elements blended together so neatly, making it an irresistible story.
If necessary, advantages that didn’t exist would be fabricated to attract attention. But Hana’s genuine qualities were so well packaged that they almost seemed too good to be true.
“This will sell.”
Executives in company boardrooms nodded as they placed the *Palette* magazine on their desks.
“Proceed.”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
“Okay!”
With serious expressions, the junior staff left the meeting room. Their footsteps were headed toward Daesan Elementary School in Seoul.
—From now on, we’re the talent scouts for art prodigies.
*
After Children’s Day ended, the visitors arrived one after another… A series of interviews, press coverage, and photoshoots took place over the next few days.
Once all of that was done, the staff were exhausted. They had taken my story and packaged it as a product, each carrying it off to their respective companies. As I watched them wrap it up as an emotionally touching story, I couldn’t help but smile wryly.
“…Hoo.”
To be honest, this attention was difficult. But I knew this was all part of the groundwork for my special admission into art school.
I lay down alone in the quiet house (my uncle had gone to the factory for the last time to finish up some tasks) and turned on the TV. A sitcom from my childhood was playing, though the quality was much worse than I remembered.
I leaned against the wall, still wearing my socks, watching the sitcom. The young girl on screen was dancing while making her signature catchphrase.
“Grandpa~! I need~ money~!”
Anyone could tell it was a forced catchphrase. It was clumsy, but there was a special feeling about it at that time.
I watched the TV in a daze.
“…But still, I feel okay. It’s exhausting, but not bad.”
Had I ever received such attention in a past life?
But there was also a part of me that felt uneasy.
“Even though it’s not some big newspaper or TV station, it still feels like this attention is too much for someone who has only won one competition.”
No matter how much the Hanul Youth Art Competition is celebrated, objectively speaking, it was still just a youth competition. This attention didn’t match the occasion.
But at the same time, I could understand why they were giving me such attention.
“Because I’m young, right? Just because I’m young…”
Age is a powerful thing.
Just by being a little more mature than other elementary schoolers and achieving slightly better results, adults inflate their expectations. They imagine what I’ll be like once I’ve fully grown.
‘I knew that, because I was once one of those adults.’
…This would only last for a while.
I was well aware of the mismatched attention. That’s why, deep down, I was waiting for it to fade away quickly.
“Once I get into Hanul, it’ll quiet down. By then, the real prodigy will prove themselves again.”
“………”
I suddenly mumbled the name of my friend.
“Mari…”
She was both my friend and my idol.
A memory I had forgotten, but eventually reclaimed.
The girl who had been injured but was now recovering—someone I wanted to take care of and see moving forward as soon as possible.
I wanted to live a life that was a little better than my past.
“Yeah… If I had to put it that way, I’m not the genius. I’m just the one walking next to them. But even by standing next to a genius, I had to prove myself. And that’s what I’m doing.”
That should be enough.
“……..”
I felt a little melancholic.
I didn’t know why.
It might be because of the hormones in this fragile body and the emotions in my brain.
Before I knew it, I was holding the phone, uncertain.
Beep, beep, beep…
I dialed the phone number that Mari had given me from the hospital.
I held the smooth phone and brought it to my ear. After a few rings, Mari answered.
“Hana?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you draw today?”
She immediately got to the point. But after hearing this question for the past month, I had grown used to it. I answered her.
“Nothing. I couldn’t draw anything today.”
“Aw, that’s sad.”
Yes.
A day when I can’t draw is a sad day.
Because drawing is fun.
When I can’t do it, it’s sad.
“…Then, do you want to draw something now?”
“Yeah.”
With her sudden suggestion, I picked up a cheap pen and drew a horizontal line across the back of the magazine from the interview.
I didn’t think much about it, but the line looked like a hill.
From now on, this line wasn’t just a line. It was a hill.
A voice was heard over the phone.
“I drew it.”
“What did you draw?”
“A hill road. What about you, Mari?”
“Secret.”
“…”
“…You’re not asking?”
“Is it a pigeon?”
“Huh? How did you know?”
“I heard Mari’s name the other day.”
“Did Dad meet Mom in front of St. Mary’s Cathedral?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you figure that out from hearing that?”
“After that, you talked a lot about religious paintings.”
“Ah~ I see… hehe… By the way, should I enter some competitions or something? How much should I aim for?”
“The Ministry of Education said, ‘As much as possible,’ so I plan to participate in as many as I can and gather whatever I can.”
“It would be fine if they just graduated me… no need to doubt anything.”
Strangely, as I chatted more and drew, thoughts like “genius” slowly faded away. I just enjoyed drawing and chatting.
So, I kept scribbling and talking until my uncle came. I thought to myself that it would be nice if we could go to school together and chat like this.
* * *
The spring air disappeared, and the heat of summer began to rise.
July, just before summer vacation.
Over the past two months, I proved myself.
The intelligence test conducted by the Ministry of Education.
The academic test that covered all elementary school subjects.
The special entrance exam results from Hanul Comprehensive Arts School.
My achievements in various competitions and media coverage…
The exams, which I thought would never end, surprisingly wrapped up quickly, and I was able to see the results in the end.
The principal smiled broadly and said:
“Therefore, we acknowledge Go Hana’s early graduation. We wish for only good things to come in her future.”
“Thank you.”
I received the diploma from the principal in front of Daesan Elementary School’s auditorium. Then, the students of Daesan Elementary School, who had gathered in the back of the auditorium, cheered and clapped.
– “Wow!!”
-“That’s amazing!!”
-“Hana, you’re awesome!!”
The sight of everyone clapping like seals was honestly overwhelming.
“…?”
‘No.’
‘How many times have you seen me…?’
“My mom said she saw Hana on a TV show!”
“I know the newspaper where Hana appeared!”
“They say Hana’s a genius!!”
Seeing the kids excitedly mentioning the media I had appeared in made me chuckle. I didn’t really know, since I didn’t get close to the other kids, but it seemed like I was a bit of a local celebrity.
“Heh.”
They had no connection to me but were simply congratulating a student from the same neighborhood and school for graduating. Somehow, their pure interest didn’t seem bad at all.
After the last class ended and I was on my way home, Teacher Lim Ahra quietly called me.
“…Congratulations. I wanted to help in some way, but I didn’t do anything.”
“What do you mean? If I hadn’t entered the Hanul Youth Art Contest… I wouldn’t have even started.”
‘I was sincere.’
The opportunity that Teacher Lim Ahra had given me.
That one opportunity was the driving force that brought me this far.
But Teacher Lim Ahra shook her head, looking like she couldn’t easily believe it. Without saying a word, she just hugged me and teared up.
“You need to do well even after you leave.”
“Of course.”
“Even if Hana graduates early… Can I still think of you as my student?”
“Of course.”
I also hugged Teacher Lim Ahra.
“When I think about it, she was the first one to notice me.”
A teacher just beginning to find her place.
In a past life, we only passed by each other in the classroom.
But the fact that she was at the starting point of my journey was something no one could deny.
“Teacher.” Thank you.
“…Yeah!”
A little before summer vacation, in early summer.
I graduated from elementary school earlier than in my past life.
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