The art of bow-making

Dong Woo Jang has an unusual after school hobby. Jang, who was 15 when he gave the talk, tells the story of how living in the concrete jungle of Seoul inspired him to build the perfect bow. Watch him demo one of his beautiful hand-crafted archer's bows.

It is said that the grass is always greener

on the other side of the fence,

and I believe this is true,

especially when I hear President Obama

often talk about the Korean education system

as a benchmark of success.

Well, I can tell you that,

in the rigid structure and highly competitive nature

of the Korean school system,

also known as pressure cooker,

not everyone can do well in that environment.

While many people responded in different ways

about our education system,

my response to the high-pressure environment

was making bows with pieces of wood

found near my apartment building.

Why bows?

I'm not quite sure.

Perhaps, in the face of constant pressure,

my caveman instinct of survival

has connected with the bows.

If you think about it,

the bow has really helped drive human survival

since prehistoric times.

The area within three kilometers of my home

used to be a mulberry forest

during the Joseon dynasty,

where silkworms were fed with mulberry leaves.

In order to raise the historical awareness of this fact,

the government has planted mulberry trees.

The seeds from these trees

also have spread by birds here and there

nearby the soundproof walls of the city expressway

that has been built around the 1988 Olympics.

The area near these walls,

which nobody bothers to pay attention to,

had been left free from major intervention,

and this is where I first found my treasures.

As I fell deeper into bow making,

I began to search far and beyond my neighborhood.

When I went on school field trips,

family vacations, or simply on my way home

from extracurricular classes,

I wandered around wooded areas

and gathered tree branches

with the tools that I sneaked inside my school bag.

And they would be somethings like saws, knives,

sickles and axes

that I covered up with a piece of towel.

I would bring the branches home,

riding buses and subways,

barely holding them in my hands.

And I did not bring the tools here to Long Beach.

Airport security.

(Laughter)

In the privacy of my room, covered in sawdust,

I would saw, trim and polish wood all night long

until a bow took shape.

One day, I was changing the shape of a bamboo piece

and ended up setting the place on fire.

Where? The rooftop of my apartment building,

a place where 96 families call home.

A customer from a department store across from my building

called 911,

and I ran downstairs to tell my mom

with half of my hair burned.

I want to take this opportunity

to tell my mom, in the audience today:

Mom, I was really sorry,

and I will be more careful with open fire from now on.

My mother had to do a lot of explaining,

telling people that her son did not commit

a premeditated arson.

I also researched extensively on bows around the world.

In that process, I tried to combine

the different bows from across time and places

to create the most effective bow.

I also worked with many different types of wood,

such as maple, yew and mulberry,

and did many shooting experiments

in the wooded area near the urban expressway

that I mentioned before.

The most effective bow for me

would be like this.

One: Curved tips can maximize the springiness

when you draw and shoot the arrow.

Two: Belly is drawn inward for higher draw weight,

which means more power.

Three: Sinew used in the outer layer of the limb

for maximum tension storage.

And four: Horn used to store energy in compression.

After fixing, breaking, redesigning,

mending, bending and amending,

my ideal bow began to take shape,

and when it was finally done,

it looked like this.

I was so proud of myself

for inventing a perfect bow on my own.

This is a picture of Korean traditional bows

taken from a museum,

and see how my bow resembles them.

Thanks to my ancestors

for robbing me of my invention. (Laughter)

Through bowmaking,

I came in contact with part of my heritage.

Learning the information that has accumulated over time

and reading the message left by my ancestors

were better than any consolation therapy

or piece of advice any living adults could give me.

You see, I searched far and wide,

but never bothered to look close and near.

From this realization,

I began to take interest in Korean history,

which had never inspired me before.

In the end, the grass is often greener

on my side of the fence,

although we don't realize it.

Now, I am going to show you how my bow works.

And let's see how this one works.

This is a bamboo bow,

with 45-pound draw weights.

(Noise of shooting arrow)

(Applause)

A bow may function in a simple mechanism,

but in order to make a good bow,

a great amount of sensitivity is required.

You need to console and communicate

with the wood material.

Each fiber in the wood

has its own reason and function for being,

and only through cooperation and harmony among them

comes a great bow.

I may be an [odd] student

with unconventional interests,

but I hope I am making a contribution

by sharing my story with all of you.

My ideal world is a place

where no one is left behind,

where everyone is needed exactly where they are,

like the fibers and the tendons in a bow,

a place where the strong is flexible

and the vulnerable is resilient.

The bow resembles me,

and I resemble the bow.

Now, I am shooting a part of myself to you.

No, better yet, a part of my mind

has just been shot over to your mind.

Did it strike you?

Thank you.

(Applause)