By JENNIFER YAEL GREEN
I breeze into class, text books in one hand, and ask my students the same question I do every day.
“How are you guys?” I call to them, already knowing their answers.
“Ah, Teacher! So tired!”
“Very bad day, Teacher! So many homework!”
“Teacher, why we have test? So much stress for test!”
This is Korea, where students get less sleep than Fortune 500 CEOs and instead of playing after-school sports they attend a handful of haegwons (“academies”) for science, math, computers, art, and traditional instruments. I teach English at one of these haegwons, where my elementary and middle school students take 3-hour classes, and then go home to online homework, book homework and mobile phone homework.
At ten or eleven years old, most of them already have half-moon circles beneath their eyes, a few stray grey hairs, a mountain of pressure upon their shoulders. They come into class loudly, shoving and talking and texting a mile a minute on phones with TV shows and video-chat. They seem interested in talking about Teenage Sleep Deprivation in my listening class, a topic I would rather avoid. The lecture we listen to is clearly intended for an American audience, discussing the lack of sleep teenagers get and offering solutions like relaxing before bedtime (no TV, no computer).
“But Teacher,” my student Hero says. “How can we relax before sleep if we are studying?”
“And Teacher!” Julie calls out. “What if mother makes you stay up to do your haegwon homework?”
I start to explain that there are no academies in America, and the students gasp in shock. I figure telling them that most American elementary school students have bed times (and not mothers who force them to stay up studying until 2am) would be pointless.
My middle school students arrive later, studying with me until 10pm each night. Like teenagers everywhere, the girls obsess over pictures of popular boy bands (with names like Big Bang) and the boys tease each other relentlessly. And just like in the States, looks and appearances are important, although my Korean students take it to a whole new level.
Unlike in the Western world, public primping is not considered an embarrassing act, and so my students brush their hair, hold up reflective cell phones to apply lip gloss, and constantly fuss in hand held mirrors.
“Cindy!” I yell during a quiz. “Put the mirror AWAY! Your bangs look exactly the same as they did 3 minutes ago.”
Cindy glares, and reluctantly puts her Anna Sui mirror away.
A few weeks ago, our topic in class was Teenage Plastic Surgery and we had to discuss whether we thought people under 18 should be allowed to go under the knife. Not surprisingly, the majority of my middle school students felt it should be okay.
“If girl has no boost in confidence, she should get plastic surgery,” said Jenny. “Or if you are fat, surgery make you beautiful.”
“And surgery help you get good job!” added Harry.
“A good job?” I asked. “How does plastic surgery help you get a good job?”
“Ah, teacher,” said Harry, looking at me like I was slow. “No people hire you if you are ugly.”
Right.
The most popular type of plastic surgery, my students informed me, is eye-lid surgery. Many women desire “Western-shaped” eyes and it is possible for surgeons to form a more prominent lid.
“Do you think it is a good idea for Korean women to have Western-shaped eyes?” I addressed the class.
“Yes, teacher!” they shouted.
“But why?” I said. “What would you think if I got surgery to have Asian-shaped eyes?” I was trying to make a point.
They burst into high-pitched giggles. “Teacher!” shouted Harry. “You are crazy! Nobody want Korea eyes!”
They often marvel at my looks, so different from their own. They are perplexed by my hair, adamant that I secretly get perms and that there is no way my curls are natural.
“Ah, Teacher, your hair is like ajuma,” they say, referring to the older women with short, cropped perms. “No people just have hair like this!”
On the first day of sunshine this spring, I donned a bright green dress to class, so different from the oversized shirts that are fashionable in Korea, usually in grays, blacks and tans.
“Teacher, dress is very strange!” my 4th grade student Angela yelled when I walked into the room. “You look like Mexico!”
And just as they marvel at me, I often wonder about them – how they do it all. At 25 years old, I find it unlikely I could survive on so little sleep, could keep up with the piles of work. Even though they have no idea who Angelina Jolie is, many of them could easily talk to me about the North Korean missile launch or global warming. They speak 2 or 3 languages, play instruments, and know more about American history than most Americans.
Sometimes, even though I observe them every day, their lives seem so beyond my imagination.
Yet another facinating insite into the Korean culture and the added pressure on a segment of their society that we here in America just don’t know about.
A lovely article from a personal point of view, giving us an insite into how Korean teenagers, and younger, have a totally different education ethic to that in America.
Their education system is almost the complete opposite of our American system which in my opinion, is an absolute mess. There must be some happy medium that broadens the brain and the soul at the same time. A balance between a walking performance robot and someone just trying to get by at a bare minimum would be nice.
Once again, your gift of words opens our western eyes to the many people, and in this instance, children of the world that have to endure so much more than we would ever have to as children much less adults.
The life experiences that your school children have shared with you will transform your life, and everyone around you, to appreciate the many blessings that we have. Even in the worst of times, our bad days are not the good days for many. Thank you for sharing some of us with them.