I arrived in the United States in 2009, as a middle-school student. Like thousands of other Korean kids sent overseas during the “study in America” craze, I was dispatched here in pursuit of my parents’ unfulfilled American dream—mostly my father’s. He was a serial entrepreneur who had done well enough to fund our long stay, as well as my younger sister’s and my education through college.
I was dispatched here in pursuit of my parents’ unfulfilled American dream—mostly my father’s.
I wasn’t some top-tier student back in Jukjeon, a small Korean town that, at the time, had nothing but a creek where my friends and I occasionally played with fire. Although my parents might have hoped otherwise, I never felt I was academically gifted (despite a fluke high IQ score). What I did have was a knack for entrepreneurship. I made my first bit of money “selling” premium items in a notebook version of an online game I’d hand-drawn for my classmates—think a personal, paper-based MapleStory knockoff where I charged classmates for special privileges. Had I pursued a gaming career, I might have ended up in some serious trouble, haha.
Still, I was never the smartest kid in class. My best rank in middle school was around 24th out of 500 students, which isn’t bad, but it’s not genius-level. When my parents decided to send my sister and me to the U.S., I was all for it. I didn’t look forward to the Korean national exam and doubted I’d excel at it. The idea of playing soccer on real grass instead of sand sounded pretty good, too. My parents respected me enough to ask for my permission, and I said yes. That’s how my American journey began.
Fast-forward almost 15 years. I’ve now spent more time in the U.S. than I ever did in Korea. I completed most of my education here, earned a bachelor’s degree, returned to Korea to serve in the Army as an Ammunition Specialist in the 1st Battalion in Paju, and then came back to the States. Today, I’m a permanent resident. Over the past decade, I’ve held four different immigration statuses (F-1, F-1 OPT, O-1, and now Green Card), founded three companies in three different industries, and I’m currently the founder and CEO of one of the largest career service providers in the U.S., helping Americans find and succeed in careers where they can thrive.
Over the past decade, I’ve held four different immigration statuses (F-1, F-1 OPT, O-1, and now Green Card), founded three companies in three different industries, and I’m currently the founder and CEO of one of the largest career service providers in the U.S., helping Americans find and succeed in careers where they can thrive.
I had no family members here—no distant cousins, nobody. My family got scammed out of tens of thousands of dollars multiple times by people we trusted, and I had to figure out everything on my own: how to order pizza over the phone, sign an apartment lease, register a vehicle, get a driver’s license, choose and apply to schools, pick a major, understand the limitations of my F-1 status, find a career that fit both my interests and my legal constraints, land a job, start companies, exit a company, grow a company from nothing to $5M+ in revenue, and even learn how to be a “dog dad.”
My goal at CiA (Career in America) is to teach you everything I know about finding work and succeeding here, as well as share the hard truths about being a first-generation American. With this, you can make an informed decision: Is chasing the American dream right for you?
1. If You’re Not Already Successful in Korea, You Probably Won’t Be in America.
America is built by immigrants and runs on strict meritocracy. Those who excel tend to thrive, and those who don’t fall behind. People say America is individualistic, but I see it as “talent-focused.” The top performers are celebrated, respected, and well-rewarded, while the average or below-average often struggle to get by. It’s like a national stage of celebrities and athletes: if you’re not at least in the top 10% of your field, think carefully. America won’t magically turn you into a star if you weren’t shining before.
2. Getting a Job in the U.S. as an International Student or Professional Is Extremely Difficult.
This builds on the first truth but gets even trickier. Think of a top European soccer league with strict limits on foreign players. The U.S. job market is similar: companies have fewer incentives to hire international candidates. Sponsoring a visa is expensive (from $10K to $50K in many tech industries), involves tons of legal hassle, and no guaranteed outcome. The H-1B visa, the common route, is literally a lottery with less than a 20% acceptance rate, getting tougher each year. You might get three tries if you have a STEM degree, but still, many fail. Most international students I’ve known eventually returned home. Of the few who stayed, many found other paths—pursuing advanced degrees, marrying Americans, or landing a green card sponsor. For most employers, hiring an international worker is a massive risk and expense. Unless you’re truly exceptional, your odds are slim.
3. Korean Companies in the U.S. Won’t Sponsor Your Green Card.
A decade ago, some Korean conglomerates (like Samsung or LG) sponsored green cards for their expat employees. But they learned the hard way that once employees got their green cards and thus gained job mobility, they often left for better opportunities. Korean companies rarely pay as competitively as American firms, so it’s not worth it for them anymore. With few exceptions (like expats with kids who need public schooling), these companies have stopped sponsoring green cards. This once-popular route to permanent residency has largely vanished.
4. International Students Can’t Attend Most Public Schools.
Elementary and middle school public education isn’t available to typical F-1 visa holders. At the high school level, you might get a one-year exchange, but that’s it. Most international students must attend private schools, which can be pricey. I ended up at a private Catholic school—not because I was Catholic, but because it was cheaper than other private options, thanks to church subsidies. If you’re planning on bringing your family here, budget for private education costs.
5. It’s Lonely, and You Need to Deal With It.
With no family, friends, or safety net, we had to fend for ourselves. My father stayed in Korea to send money, while my mother, who barely spoke English, raised us. We relied heavily on body language to survive early on. In America, there’s less built-in community to catch you if you fall. You’ll be on your own, and you might get scammed, taken advantage of, or just ignored. You learn to distrust people who approach you too eagerly. Over time, as you become more “Americanized,” things get easier. Regional differences matter too—Midwestern states might feel warmer and friendlier than coastal hubs like California or New York. Still, the reality is that the journey can be incredibly lonely, and you must learn to cope with that isolation.
After nearly 15 years in the U.S., leading a semi-successful life and career here, I’ve come to realize the significance of the word “dream” in “the American Dream.” Dreams are often unlikely, long-shot ambitions. Most people don’t achieve them. Yet if you can easily give up on a dream after hearing these truths, maybe it wasn’t your true dream at all.
Dreams are often unlikely, long-shot ambitions. Most people don’t achieve them. Yet if you can easily give up on a dream after hearing these truths, maybe it wasn’t your true dream at all.
So, after reading this, ask yourself again: Do you still want to pursue the American dream, now that you know these hard truths? If your answer is no, you’re welcome—I just saved you a lot of time and money. If your answer is yes, then welcome aboard. I can’t guarantee you’ll reach your dream, but I can at least help you avoid the mistakes I made. Let’s get started.
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