A House of Rooms
I’m Jinhyun Shin, and I’m a community builder.
Who I Am
When I think about life, I imagine life as one big house; and in this house, everybody gets one room. Stationed in the cold part of the house, I like how well my room represents me. There is a large variety of chairs, lots of mood lighting stretched across the walls, and a fireplace toward that back murmuring softly. There’s plenty more I’d like to add, but I’ll save some details for a later time.
What gets me out of bed every day is the opportunity to learn about what other people have in their rooms. The passions littered across the floorspace, pictures on the walls, heirlooms in their enshrinements, mementos in their safes — it’s a beautiful mosaic that draws out the romantic in me that is enamored by how lives can be so unique.
I have been fortunate to get to walk around many rooms. I am beholden to the hundreds of people that have welcomed me, but I think it has been in part been made possible thanks to my “superhero trait”. Over time, I have learned that I put on a good first impression. It’s not the kind of impression that leaves people astonished about some larger than life individual, but rather the kind that results in people wanting to trust me — trust me with stories they wouldn’t normally divulge without a certain proven level of trust.
You want to know my secret? Compassion. As more story details have been revealed to me, I got better at acknowledging the vulnerability of the information disclosed. I learned to respect the anonymity of the individual behind inconclusive ideas or unresolved consequences. But, I have also made many mistakes. Amidst my judgement, my prejudices, my ability to jump to conclusions, my impatience — I have had numerous accounts of “how could you…” and “what were you thinking…” that saying “sorry” won’t let me take back. To my surprise, I was often met with a return of compassion that relieved me of the guilt, if not all the shame, so I didn’t lose much sleep at night.
In the time I have dedicated to listening to people’s stories, I have started developing some social theories. One belief I have is that there are a finite number of problems for an infinite number of solutions. One way I put this theory to the test is by exploring people’s passions. I am a big fan of etymology — and one word I love is passion. Passion comes from the Latin word pati which means “to suffer”. I love the contrast that provides against the joy that is typically conveyed when people talk about their passions. It captures why I can’t always embrace an individual’s emotions expressed about their passions, but I can begin to understand the intentions along the journey.
Amidst the suffering, I relish the discoveries that people share with me regarding the tension in their lives. The challenges they had to overcome, the boldness of self-reliance — it gives me perspective to reconsider my approach to resolving tension in my own life. But there’s one thing that often comes up as a topic of conversation that obscures the tension in people’s lives, and I’m afraid that it’s a problem I need to call out.
The Problem
Listening to people talk about their passions, I can’t help but notice a cacophony of expectations. In the Digital Era, expectations are constantly being influenced by “connections”, complicating the discernment of information that is contextually relevant, against information that is context shifting to objectives that don’t align with individual values. People are getting tired of trying to decipher whether the context projected onto them is the “right” one, or if what they know is the best information available.
What is unaccounted for in all the content that is framed as information, is that tension is deeply personal. Genuine tension arises from the struggle between personal values and individual circumstances. That’s supposed to happen. Any trainer will tell you that the formula for growth is time under tension. But when tension is disingenuous, it’s troublesome. It misaligns us from our values, strains our mental health, and leaves us feeling aimless.
To make matters worse, in the face of that troubling gap between connections and expectations, it’s unclear what we should involve our communities for. Ironically, on the fringe of isolation, people commonly fall back on individualistic tendencies for fear of burdening others with disappointment, or for fear of being seen as one. It feels like less of a risk to re-emphasize independence and self-reliance, that resolution is within reach and that the end will justify any briefly lonely means. But show me someone who consistently values individualism more than community, and I’ll show you someone who needs to consider if disappointment is greater than despair.
My Goal
My goal is to use this platform to advocate for community — to talk more openly about how we can establish effective feedback loops to engage with our communities more regularly. Community is powerful. When properly established, communities are like looking in a mirror — we can see what looks up to snuff, what hairs are out of place, or where we might be bleeding. They help us to reflect and feel comfortable with decisions in life because our actions can receive an authentic perspective with an understanding for our context.
Throughout the process of advocating for community, I hope this yields a greater compassion understanding how hard it is to consistently make decisions aligned with our values, appreciating how difficult it can be to discern information against our circumstances.
“Long before something happens your life, it happened in your heart.” — Pastor Stephen Furtick, Elevation Church
My Faith
My Faith/relationship with Christ is singlehandedly the largest influence on my life. Throughout this blog, I’m going to refer to myself as a Christian and a Kingdom Builder, interchangeably. It is largely because I know that when I call myself a Christian, it’s easy to imagine of a hate spewing, fear mongering, White person from what you see on the news, and I’d like to avoid that. But I’ll also be calling myself a Kingdom Builder, because Chance The Rapper calls himself that and it’s way cooler.
Whatever the preconceived notion may be, I ask that you please give me a chance to be a man of Faith that you can engage with. I will likely refer to sermons that have made me pause just as often as I will reference teachings from strangers, and lessons learned the hard way. I will probably write directly about Christianity and Faith. But please trust that I am active about my due diligence on great pastors/life teachers, and be considerate to the times I reference them, as they have taught me a great deal.
Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly. — James 3:1
Why Now
I want to take a moment to acknowledge how I am starting now.
I have always been afraid to publicly share my beliefs surrounding community, mainly for fear of accountability. Ultimately, what has made me a successful community builder is my ability to earn people’s trust. With this blog, I plan to write about the devices and methods that have helped me do that. But I have been hesitant.
On several occasions, I have had doubts like ‘What if I articulate a theory intended to provide perspective that is received as an offense failing to be mindful of the appropriate circumstances?’ Or worse, ‘What if my personal philosophies and theories have value, and fall into the hands of people who know no better than to apply them for personal gain within their own circumstances, taking advantage of people along the way — and I provide guidance to do that?’
Well, I’ve had a little pep talk with the Man upstairs, and I have conceded to the response I received that the urgency to restore communities is too great. And that if I truly believe in the power of community, I cannot pre-judge the impact I may have on any individual, or that that individual may have on me. The outcomes I fear then are really projections of what can occur if I fail to fully consider the circumstances of my personal theories before sharing them. Simply put, I need to think before I speak. And with this newly accepted sense of urgency, that challenge is something I will have to embrace.
But please, don’t cancel me in my haste.
“My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?” John 14:2 (NIV)
The Plan
I hope you’ll join me from time to time to when I juggle the prisms of individualism and community to re-examine life. In the spirit of compassion, I invite you to share your thoughts, challenge my theories, add perspective I lack, and call me out when I am wrong. Candidly, it might not always click at first, but let’s not let that stop us from trying to unlock our perspectives.
However much resonates, I appreciate your visit — and officially, welcome to my room.
