Latest news with #trainee
Forbes
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Forbes
Three Former K-Pop Idols Find It's ‘Time To Be Strong'
Sunim, Sarang and Tae-hee find their trip to Jeju Island is not what they expected. Becoming a k-pop trainee is a dream for many aspiring performers. After years of hard work learning to dance, sing and act, trainees might be rewarded with lucrative contracts and a lifetime of celebrity. But it doesn't always work out that way. The protagonists of the Korean film Time To Be Strong have done their turn in the trainee system and it's time to move on. But where are they headed? For now the destination is Jeju, a popular vacation destination off the coast of South Korea. Sunim (Choi Sung-eun), Sarang (Ha Seo-yoon and Tae-hee (Hyun Woo-seok) are marking the end of their failed careers with a trip. They joke that it makes up for a class trip to Jeju that former classmates Sunim and Tae-hee missed. It also serves as a buffer between the dream they've given up and an uncertain future. Director Namgoong Sun wanted to make a film about Korean teens and the conditions they work in. K-pop served as a metaphor. 'K-pop is really big in Korea,' said Sun. 'So many kids want to be an idol and there are so many trainees. I thought that culture had a similarity with how they are growing up in Korea. The Korea that we're living in today is just an extremely competitive society, and I thought it would be interesting to interview these idols that have gone through that intensive system competition.' No members of an existing k-pop group would talk to her so she had to ask around. 'I met people who used to be idols or who were just trainees or who were in these big competitive TV programs,' said Sun. 'I met them and heard about their life for two hours or so. That's how I decided that it would be fun. There would be something if I looked into these people and interviewed them. I got to know a lot more than I expected.' As the leader of her k-pop group Sunim is used to taking care of others. Sun created Sunim, Sarang and Tae-hee from those interviews. Sunim, the responsible leader of the girl group Love and Leeds, is burdened with guilt over the death of another group member. Her turn as a trainee only exacerbated her eating disorder to the point where she can barely eat without throwing up. Sarang has mental health issues to deal with. Tae-hee's band disbanded, leaving him with a mountain of debt. Between them they face every bad thing that could happen to a k-pop trainee. The film suggests that it's not a training system for the weak of heart. 'In my interview sessions, I just really felt for them," said Sun. "I think it's a very different experience seeing a negative piece of news about the industry from a distance when you're seeing it on TV versus actually sitting with a human being and really hearing their stories in person. That's a very different experience. I realized that the experiences they've had are such intensely, almost cruel experiences and the scars that they still have I felt were worth exploring and really expressing because many of these people are unable to actually verbalize what they've gone through. Before they debut, they are desperate to become the chosen ones to participate in these bands. Until they debut, they really have no say in how they feel or what they're going through. Even after they debut, there is this sense of responsibility to their fans as not to worry or concern them. It's a constant battle of not being able to actually express what they feel.' Sunim makes all the arrangements for her friends. She's used to taking charge, 'There are these positions in k-pop groups," said Sun. "While interviewing, I found out that the leaders have a distinct kind of role. They have to look out for the other members. It's a very stressful place to be at because they themselves are going through some inhumane things, but they need to keep the team together and they generally care for the team and lead the team as a group while talking to the company. It's kind of a middle man position.' The Jeju trip quickly hits a few road bumps, but the k-pop exiles meet a fan who helps them put things in perspective. 'Many bands have rules in their band clubs and they all strictly abide by those rules,' said Sun. "But she doesn't know a thing. She just likes these kids and she is kind of socially awkward as well. I thought that was interesting because that's what a human-to-human connection would look like if we didn't have all these rules.' Sun's film was financed by the Human Rights Commission of Korea, an independent commission for protecting, advocating and promoting human rights and it only had what she describes as a tiny budget. The film's talented cameraman, a friend, lived on Jeju, so she asked if his home could be used for a set. 'It was a simple choice at the beginning and it kind of matched well for these kids to go on a trip on their own for the first time.' It's not unusual for k-pop trainees to start training at 13 and some start as young as seven. They may go straight from their parental home into the trainee dorm where every decision is made for them. 'A lot of our interviewees said that they were managed for so long, the first thing they found weird was to travel alone," said Sun. "They didn't know how to buy tickets, how to do planes. In terms of everyday simple things they were just bewildered.' Sun initially wanted to cast people who had actually been idols or trainees and to showcase their untapped skills. 'But obviously once I started interviewing, I thought in order to protect these people, I couldn't actually use them directly in the process of casting. So I changed my approach to cast actors. In my imagination the characters were very good and kind people.' Choi Sung-eun, the first actor to sign on, previously appeared in the film My Name Is Loh Kiwan, the dramas The Sound of Magic, Beyond Evil and Start-Up. Ha Seo-yoon appeared in Family By Choice, Captivating The King and The Worst of Evil. Hyun Woo-seok had roles in The School Nurse Files, Love Alarm and can be seen next year in Wish Your Death. Namkoong Sun has directed a succession of shorts during the last 15 years, including Meat Incident and The End of the World. In 2020 she made her feature debut with Ten Months, which received a special mention in the UNcaged Award Competition of the New York Asian Film Festival. Time To Be Strong also debuted at NYAFF. Sun also directed the film Love Untangled, starring Gong Myung, Shin Eun-soo and Cha Woo-min. It will be released this year on Netflix.
Washington Post
4 days ago
- General
- Washington Post
‘College hazing' or training? Amid shortage, air traffic recruits wash out.
In his first few days guiding aircraft at the Oakland, California, air traffic control center, trainee Ryan Higgins deleted a plane's data from the radar screen. It was untrackable for a few frantic moments while more experienced controllers made sure the plane was on a safe path. The rookie mistake rattled Higgins and earned him a stern rebuke.
The Herald
18-07-2025
- The Herald
Number of SAPS trainee applications for 5,500 posts top 900,000
As the closing date approaches, the number of police trainee applications has surpassed 900,000. The SA Police Service (SAPS) has confirmed that its Basic Police Development Learning Programme (BPDLP) application window will close in less than 24 hours. After the deadline, no further applications will be accepted. The SAPS received more than 67,774 applications within the first 24 hours of opening the application window. Police spokesperson Brig Athlenda Mathe said by Thursday, they had received more than 927,000 applications. She said female applicants continue to lead in terms of numbers, with 527,673 young women having submitted applications so far. Male applicants have submitted 400,204 applications thus far. 'Gauteng has brought in the most number of applications with more than 240,000, followed by KZN with more than 179,000. Limpopo is sitting at more than 102,000, with the Eastern Cape at more than 93,000 and Mpumalanga at more than 89,000. The Western Cape is sitting at number six in terms of the most applications received with more than 76,000, followed by the Free State with more than 64,000. North West is second last with more than 57,000 applications and the Northern Cape with more than 22,000 bringing in the least number of applications ,' Mathe said. She said 261,255 applicants have valid drivers' licences. 'It should be noted that not everyone will make it to the selection process due to limited space availability on the training programme with only 5,500 spaces available,' she said. She said successful candidates would be called to undergo various assessments, including psychometric and integrity, physical and medical evaluations and interviews. TimesLIVE
The Herald
10-06-2025
- The Herald
Police captain accused of raping a 20-year-old woman trainee and sexually assaulting another granted R8,000 bail
The Pretoria magistrate's court has granted R8,000 bail to a 59-year-old police captain from the Pretoria Police Training Academy, who is accused of raping a 20-year-old woman trainee and sexually assaulting another. The officer allegedly raped the trainee on May 6 and sexually assaulted another trainee in March. The incidents allegedly took place in his office at the training college. Police spokesperson Lizzy Suping said on May 6 the 20-year-old trainee was allegedly walking with her colleagues to their sleeping quarters when the captain called her to his office. 'In the office, the captain allegedly locked the door and told the trainee if she did not sleep with him he would serve her with a misconduct letter regarding an incident that allegedly happened in April, where the captain accused the trainee of failing to salute him.' Suping noted that on trends of cases of rape by police officers from the previous financial year, Gauteng is leading with just under 30 cases reported. 'Though other provinces experienced a decline in these cases, Gauteng's cases increased by about 35%. Reported cases of rape by police officers while on duty is also higher compared with rape when officers are off-duty,' she said. TimesLIVE
The Guardian
03-06-2025
- General
- The Guardian
My mentor and friend died suddenly while I was at work. The memory of his kindness kept me going
We are going through the list of overnight admissions when my phone beeps. Expecting a medical request to do something or see someone, my chest cramps at the message. I must be sufficiently distracted for the trainee to ask, 'All OK?' It's a split-second decision. My instinct is to blurt out that an old friend has died and I need time out. But this would inevitably incur an explanation causing the ward round to be consumed by sympathy for me instead of care for our patients. So, I muster the pretence to say, 'Just keep going', convincing myself this is what Mike would have wanted. Mike and I met more than 30 years ago. Medical student admissions are a multifaceted thing but I like to think that he was the administrator who 'let' me in. More accurately, he was the one who told me years later that after several rounds of offers, there was just one remaining spot and many deserving students but maybe the universe had spoken and I squeezed in. Getting into medicine would turn out to be the most consequential event of my life. The next year, Mike gave me my first job, the task of settling the nerves of the medical students who were appearing for their interview like I did once. It was a decidedly plum job; paid hours, free sandwiches and real orange juice. But even better was Mike introducing me to a fellow student, G. 'I think you will get along' turned out to be a singular understatement when I think about the bounties of our close friendship, which now embraces five children. Like other students, I stayed in touch with Mike because he was interested in what medical students did with their lives after the coveted degree. He attended my wedding and brought my children thoughtful gifts when he came to dinner. He was there for the celebrations and the lamentations, when they came. Fifteen years ago, driving home from a routine work day, Mike suffered a devastating stroke. I remember dashing to intensive care where he was expected to succumb. Miraculously and, in part, due to his relatively young age, he survived every complication and was discharged to the stroke unit, the place of my worst memories. Here, Mike was often insensate and when awake had no meaningful use of limb or language. The nurses were caring but the loss of his dignity was scathing. I would sit there stunned by the blow of fate, hoping he recognised me. Defying predictions, Mike not only survived his hospital ordeal but also emerged largely cognitively intact. However, his physical needs necessitated admission to a nursing home. My standout memory from the nursing home was that his only window to the outside had an opaque coating. It made him miserable and even the staff couldn't explain its existence as it was not related to privacy. Over months, Mike and I appealed to the management to allow him a glimpse of the sun, sky and trees, all in vain. After that dashed hope, I resorted to simpler ways of 'helping' by asking what kind of sushi he wanted. At least, that was always under our control. But we never stopped talking about his desire to get out of the nursing home. In service of his dream, he was diligent with physiotherapy and continued to train his brain. I knew plenty of people who yearned to leave residential care but none successfully. It took the best part of two years and a mountain of paperwork and advocacy from his valiant sister to get Mike back into his own home. That was a remarkable day. With sophisticated modifications and dutiful caregivers, Mike's life was again illuminated by friends, theatre, and current affairs. When we visited him and found him content, I told my children that Mike's transformation was also a testament to a society which had painstakingly restored dignity to an individual in circumstances where it would have been far easier to let him languish in residential care. This really was exemplary disability care in the community. I found it especially instructive to witness the loyalty of his childhood friends whose interest in him seemed unaffected by his limitations. They were a living reminder of the adage that if you have one true friend you have more than your fair share. As Mike acquired a social life, our interactions slowed. But I was always delighted when he couldn't see me because he had other plans – there had been many intervening years of drought. Some weeks ago, I sent him an email proposing lunch, never imagining that it would only be read by his sister undertaking the heartache of posthumously sifting through his affairs. Now she tells me that Mike, after enjoying a holiday, presented to hospital with sudden and fatal deterioration. There had been no time to let anyone know that he was dying. It is difficult for me to absorb the shock all at once but Mike's sister says something very generous – that in his years of greatest need, I was like a daughter to him. I will never know it for sure, but the thought itself is a lovely consolation. Mike was one of the people who derived personal satisfaction from my enjoyment of medicine. My friend, G, became a role model for honouring our relationships despite the demands of life. Who would understand the significance of this sudden loss? G is the first person I text. I picture Mike's satisfaction that the two of us, brought together by him, stop to reflect on a life and legacy that couldn't have been scripted, at least not by two doctors. Ranjana Srivastava is an Australian oncologist, award-winning author and Fulbright scholar. Her latest book is called A Better Death
