Letters From A Korean Classroom: It’s easy to spell respect in Korean

By  JENNIFER YAEL GREEN

Most teachers come to Korea for the same reason they end up staying longer than they ever expected: the lifestyle.

It’s an easy one – good pay, few hours, cheap cost of living.  A majority of English teachers in Korea have no future plans to be educators, and many come without prior experience.  They’re looking for a chance to travel and save wads of cash.

But there’s another perk many aren’t expecting when they arrive – the amount of respect that goes along with being a teacher in Korea, a country where education is of the utmost importance.  Many teachers are fresh from college graduation and the incessant “What are you going to do with your life?” questioning. They are tired of years as unpaid interns or coffeeshop baristas.  They quickly find themselves in a well-paid and highly respected position, which goes far in making a person stand a little taller, work a little harder.

I nearly keeled over my first week at a haegwon, when I rewarded a student for a perfect test grade with class points.  He walked up to my desk to collect the paper money, his eyes facing downward, and slightly bowed.  “Thank you, Teacher,” he murmured, gently taking the points from my outstretched hand.  He is twelve years old.

My students – elementary and middle school age – always refer to me as “Teacher,” which is a respected title in Korea, like “Mr.” or “Miss” in the States.  They always take things from me – graded tests, homework, class points – with two hands, another sign of respect.  And if I reward them, I always receive a tiny bow.  These are small things, but they make a huge impact on the way I treat them and the way I view my job.

Last month my academy hosted an afternoon for parents, where they could come by for a few hours to learn more about the curriculum and grading, and meet the Korean staff who run operations.  At the last minute, they asked the foreign teachers (all American and Canadian) if we would be willing to come out as a “surprise.” Since few of the Korean parents speak English, I was baffled at why they would be interested in seeing us.

The school director handed each teacher a rose, and instructed us to walk into a room where the parents would be seated, handing a flower to each mother.  The other teachers and I rolled our eyes at each other and groaned inwardly – the whole idea seemed so corny.  The parents would think we were schmucks.

The parents, however, loved it.  The mothers beamed at us, giggling when we presented the roses to them, and watched us with rapt attention when we were each introduced in Korean.  The applause we received at the end of the presentation was thunderous.  We were a hit.

Don’t be mistaken, teaching in Korea is not a perfect situation.  I work for a private academy, where money is often the bottom line – a student’s poor behavior or grades will easily be overlooked if his parents are willing to pay the monthly $300 fee.  Retention rates, and not necessarily teaching skills, are most important because it equates to more money.  Students are often tired and depressed because they work so hard.

But I still think Americans could learn a lot from the Korean system.  Too often in America, the jobs that really matter are among the worst paid and least respected – police officers, social workers, teachers.  I am from a state that may soon declare bankruptcy and education is going to suffer even more than it already has.  We are not setting up our children for futures as astronauts, computer programmers or architects – and certainly not as teachers.  Who would be crazy enough to go into a position without the finances or support to ensure success?

What I’m saying is nothing new; people have been bemoaning the lack of respect and the low pay of teachers for decades.  But if this recession is a wake-up call, I think our views on education need to be among the first re-evaluated.  Otherwise we’re going to be seeing all of our finest teachers on the first flight to Korea.