Letter From A Korean Classroom: Love on the last day of school

I’d been teaching in Korea for almost 9 months, and in the weeks leading up to my exit, I tried to concentrate on the logistics – packing, shipping items home, arranging flights.  As I prepared for my physical departure, I tried hard not to think of the emotional.

This became increasingly difficult in my last week, as my students became aware that I was moving back to the States.  Each day I said goodbye to another class, another set of students.  And as each class filed out, with me calling out farewell as they shouted “Bye Teacher!” a few would press folded-up pieces of paper in to my hands, phrases like “Do not show other person!” scribbled on the front.  Later, in my apartment, I would uncurl them, spread them out on my bed and carefully read each one.

I was surprised that any kid would take the time to write a letter to a teacher; it never would have occurred to me in elementary or middle school.  Most of the letters echoed similar thoughts – worries that I would forget them, words of thanks for teaching them all these months.

I had never pictured myself as a teacher.  It has not been a goal or ambition of mine, although it did sound like fun when I signed on as an English teacher in Korea last summer.  More importantly though, it was a chance to travel and save money.

Those perks were quickly eclipsed by the energy and delight I derived from my students – smart, funny and loveable little humans who kept me company for six hours a day.  I have always hoped, like most teachers, that they enjoyed my company as much as I did theirs, and that with a bit of luck they learned a few things, too.  During a year when my personal life was in tatters, those kids were like sunshine.

This year is the first time I have really seen myself as a grown-up; there is nothing like the responsibility of 100 children to push you past the threshold into adulthood.  In their eyes, I was responsible, I had answers to their questions, I was in charge.  Catching a glimpse of myself one day in the large windows at the back of m classroom – black blazer, heels, marker in hand – I saw myself through their eyes.  I was a teacher.  I was an adult.  Scary, but a little thrilling too.

I have left a half-dozen jobs since I started working at age 16, but never before have I received a hand-written thank you note, let alone eight of them.  The memories of my students, and the lessons they have taught me, will always be with me.  They surely don’t have to worry about me forgetting them; I know I will keep these letters forever.

Below are a few, mistakes and all:

“Hi?  Jenn teacher.  I’m Angela.  I’m so sad because you must return to your home in U.S.A.  But I will remember you for a long time.  Don’t forget me!!  Thank you for teaching me and you are a good teacher.  Bye!”

“Hi teacher?  I’m Helen.  Thank you for teach me English.  It is funny to study with you and I can learn English more easy.  I think teacher is best English teacher.  We’ve really got to know each other well and I can’t believe you’re living.  It’s so sad.  I want have more chance to study with you.  I will never forget you and you have given me good memories.”

“Hi Jenn!!  I’m Annie. So today I want to tell you some thing. Like I’m so thank you for last months…it was very fun when I’m on your class!!  I enjoyed my class, but my homework assignment was not always perfect.  So I’m sorry for that too.  Anyway, it was very fun with you when I study listening.  I will not forget you!  I will remember you, forever never!”

“Hello, teacher Jenn?  This is Kevin.  I was sad when I heard you go to America.  You were my great teacher.  Even I studied with you very short time, I was happy to meet you.  If you go to American, be careful and safer.  Just take care of yourself and your family.  I will miss you.  Also I will study more and I will go to America to visit you.  Maybe, it can be possible.  I will really miss you and good bye, Teacher Jennifer!”