From the Mouths of Students

Teaching is hard.

I know it's not what you want to hear, but it's true. A good portion of my students on any given day don't give a crap about learning English. When I first started teaching, I really let that get to me. I sincerely care about these kids, I want them to learn, so every student who talked or napped through my class was like a personal wound. Right in the feelings.

It also makes you wonder..."Why am I here?" I don't have a teaching degree. I'm just another idealistic English major dreaming of making a difference in the world. Do I have any right to make my students to pay attention in class? Am I helping them at all? Is it morally okay to be complicit in forcing English into their brains? Am I worthless? The constant articles about "The end of foreign English teachers!" and emails from the local Education office about budget cuts are no help in this area either. You read about a Korean group railing against the necessity of foreign teachers and you start to think, yeah...maybe...you're right...I'll just go...am I really any use here anyways?

As a career worrier, these are the sorts of questions that start to assail me after a week of difficult classes. It wasn't even entirely my fault. Teaching with a cold benefits no one.

So, after a week going into a deeper and deeper slump, a recent conversation with a student just revived me like a shot of adrenaline to the heart.

I've always felt that it's important to get to know your students outside of class, because the way they act in class can be entirely different from their true personality. It's easy to pass over very smart or talkative students, just because they aren't as motivated in class. This is all too true in the case of Taehon, the main character of my story.

On Lacking Mutual Respect

Taehon is a third year middle school student, the equivalent of a freshman in high school for any American readers out there. That puts him at...what...15 or 16 years old? In a class of 36 students, he doesn't stand out at all. Average height and looks, unlikely to speak up in class, but secretly a passionate and driven student, with big dreams for the future.

After our first class together, he came up to me to apologize for his noisy classmates, explaining that they "lack mutual respect." I was floored. I know American middle schoolers who don't know the words "mutual respect." I still can't decide if I was more shocked by the vocabulary or the sentiment.

Since that day, he'll occasionally linger after class to ask horribly complicated grammar questions in that quiet, thoughtful voice of his, but we never had a real chance to talk until today.

I don't have any classes this week due to midterm exams, so I was bumming around the English room cleaning and organizing during lunch today, hoping that someone would come visit. My wishes were granted! Taehon wandered in, offered to help clean, then asked his usual difficult grammar question. By the way, explaining the difference between "to" and "for" in simple English is hard. I think I confused him more than I helped.

Be the Change

However, after we muddled our way through grammar, the real questions started to come out.

"Will you stay in Korea for long?"
"Yes! I love Korea. I love teaching."
"Good! Korean schools...need you."

I get this question a lot. "Will you stay?" When I say yes, I want to stay here long-term, no one believes me. It's just so common for foreign teachers to spend one or two years before returning to their home countries to start a "real life".

"If you want to know Korean history or culture things, I will teach you."
"Wow! Thank you so much! I will ask you."
"And, please teach me about American culture."

This led to a bit of a comparison between Korean and American school life, and the fact that American students have lots of free time, since after school academies aren't really a thing, shocked him. I also mentioned how happy I felt to know him, to have such a curious and smart student.

He then brought up his month studying abroad in New Zealand, and the fact that the students there "Had the attitude to learn. They want to listen."

My theory about many Korean students and their lack of focus in class in that they are just plain tired. 8 hours of school followed by afterschool hagwon work until as late as 11 PM or midnight? How can you expect them to have the energy to actually learn when they're spending so much time working?

This brought out the best thing I've heard from a student in a long time.

"I think...Korean education is not good. I want to change. So, I want to be in politics. If you can vote in Korea someday, please vote for me."

This kid is going to go far. If I can ever vote in Korea, I know I would vote for him. There's hope for the world yet.

Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy: Awkward Questions in Korea

I’m not the most private of people, but I was raised on the idea that there are certain topics that are accepted as taboo in casual conversations: religion, how much money you make, weight, politics, etc. Unless speaking to a close friend, I’ve always avoided these topics out of a combination of politeness and a horrible fear of insulting someone. But everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked I moved to Korea.

I’ll give some examples of questions that no longer shock me.

1. How old are you?

For children, I suppose, this question is par for the course. “I’m five and three quarters!” they will proudly proclaim. But as you get older, the question seems a bit more…personal. Especially as a woman. Now, I’m not suggesting that I’m old, but it’s hard to shake the habit of never asking a woman her age. However, in many conversations, this is the second question I have to answer, right after “Where are you from?” Knowing a person’s age in Korea is important. It colors your interactions, even changes the way you speak to each other, so I fully understand why this question is important. But still…

2. Are you married? Boyfriend? Why not?

This is one of those questions I always assumed you only asked if you were interested in someone. But since I am apparently at an age where I need to be thinking about marriage, this is the big issue on everyone’s mind. The worst part, for me, is trying to answer the “why?” part. I promise you, random taxi driver man, if I had an answer to that, I’d be a genius. On a related note…

3. What do you think of Korean men?

How do I even answer this? “…um…they’re…great…?” Somehow I can never explain to people why this is such a difficult quesiton to answer. It's like asking, "So, what do you think of food?" Though actually, my response to that question would be the same.

4. Did you lose/gain weight?

There’s a running joke in my office that anyone who stays in this office will gain weight, because people are always bringing in snacks. Yesterday, my coteacher Mr. Lee asked me if I’d gained weight. When I said that no, I’ve actually lost weight since coming to Korea, my weight became a popular office topic. When I don’t eat all my rice, someone will inevitably ask if I’m on a diet.
I’ve heard again and again that Korea is very focused on image and beauty, and I suppose that’s true; I’ve had people straight up tell me I look tired or sick, just because I didn’t do my makeup so well that day. Come to think of it, though, that happens in the US too. Maybe it’s a universal thing?

 

5. What is your religion?

Maybe this is common in some places, but I grew up in Liberal/politically correct/hippie central. Maybe, just maybe, you might be asked if you are religious (usually to clear the way for a religious joke). Even then, it seems like a bit of an awkward topic. Your religion is your own business. But since I moved to Korea? I’ve been asked multiple times, and I never quite know what to say. I’m not Christian, or Catholic, or Muslim, or any of the easy answers I could give, but I’m not an Athiest either. It’s hard to say “I believe in something bigger than myself, but I’m not sure what” when your language level is comparable to a 5-year old.

Those of you who are in Korea, any other questions you get a lot, that used to shock you but no longer do? I’m curious.

Open Letter to Prospective and Current Epik Teachers,

If you’re anything like me, the closer you come to getting on that plane, sending in that application, or whatever step you’re at, the more freaked out you are. I get that feeling. As I recall, my entire last month in Seattle was split between frantically trying to see everyone I knew, and obsessively looking up such seemingly inane yet vitally important things as “Can I buy toothpaste in Korea?” (Answer: you can, but it tastes odd) Because I know where you’re coming from, my biggest advice to you, in the timeless words of Douglas Adams, is this: Don’t Panic.

More likely than not, Korea will not be what you expect. Your school will not be what you expect. Your house? That’s right, not what you expect. Hopefully, everything will be better than you imagined. Korea will seem too good to be true, your school will be a shining beacon of educational glory, your house will feel like a palace. But if that’s not the case? I said it once, and I’ll say it again: Don’t Panic.

 I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t been here long, but as of yet, I haven’t had more than the barest hints of culture shock. What’s my secret? Besides having the chance to fall in love with Korean food and the Korean language before I even left Seattle, it’s this: attitude. Sure, I could focus on how annoying it is that cars don’t stop for me, or my school’s tendency to drop schedule changes on me at the last minute, but how is that going to help anything? Different doesn’t have to mean bad. Embrace the differences. No matter how much you either love or hate it here, Korea will never be your native country. If you don’t expect it to be, I think you can be much happier. After all, if you had wanted to stay home and live the same life you’d always lived, wouldn’t you have just stayed home?

I have been incredibly lucky so far—Gangwon is a beautiful province, Wonju is the perfect size city for me, and not only is my co-teacher near my age, she speaks great English and is always willing to point out ways for me to improve my teaching. But to mangle a scientific suggestion, for every amazing class that reminds you why you wanted to teach in the first place, there is an equal and opposite class that nearly leaves you hiding under your desk, crying tears of frustration.

 My momma said there’d be days like that, and while I didn’t want to believe her, she was right. I’m no expert—I’ve only been teaching for two months—but from my limited experience, the best way to deal with the worst of times is to never take them personally. Your students aren’t playing around in class because they hate you, or because you’re a failure—they’re playing around because they’re children. Learn from the experience, ask for help, and make your next lesson better. If it’s not, try again. And above all, my advice? I’m sure you can guess: Don’t Panic.

With warm regards from Wonju, Andrea “Ana” Dennison