A Trapped Mind in a Free Country.

It has been a while since I have written anything aside from reports and text messages. Certainly, I have not contributed to this blog in a very long time. It is a shame. I have too much to say about my life in Korea, but sadly have not taken the time out of my busy life to allow my brain to relax in the best way it knows how: writing.

What inspired me to visit this blog today? Well, today, enough was enough. I need to get my thoughts down. Today, I feel like I could scream. I want to talk about it with someone. I love my friends here, but we know Korea well. I want to write about my experience online, so that those who have no prior knowledge of Korea might understand what it’s like living and teaching as a foreigner here.

In the future, I hope I can write about the bad and the good. There are so many good aspects of this country and this culture (you may have seen my past blog posts, which were written during the Korea-is-life-and-can-do-no-wrong phase of my life and are therefore all positive). I want all of you to come here. I miss you all, and I want to share my life here with you. Korea – this time around – has given me a whole new perspective on life, on work and on friendship. It has been a fruitful experience that has made me feel like almost a completely different person within. Outside of my school life, I feel happy, fulfilled and the most free I have ever been.

Alas, today, in my pitchfork-bearing state, I wish to vent a little.

At this place (my school), you sort of just auto-pilot your way through the day. Most days are fine. Most days, you just carefully tip-toe from class A to class B, sidestepping any trouble until you leave at 7pm, unnoticed. But on other days, everything seems to hit you at once, and it tests you. It’s like all of the Korean teachers, parents and kids get together and say, “Okay, so we have these problems with the foreign teachers. Let’s wait until a day when they suspect nothing and then just bombard them with it all at once.” It means, on the positive side, that we have many ‘okay’, uneventful days. But on the other hand, it means that all the negativity finds us at once.

The parents of the kids at this school, of course, only care about one thing: their children. So, if their child comes home complaining about something, naturally they get sad for their child. However, as I have witnessed, instead of talking to the child themselves, they sometimes blame the teachers at the school for whatever it is that the child is upset about. And, given that the Korean teachers’ classes are known to be strict and to enforce discipline, most of the drama happens in the foreign teachers’ classrooms (our direct instructions as foreign English teachers is to be “the fun teachers”). So, we often have the Korean teachers approach us with some issue that the parents have complained about. You see, the Korean parents can’t talk to us about it because of the language barrier. So instead, they have to talk about us to the Korean teachers. That in itself already evokes a sort of out-of the-loop, upsetting feeling on our end, as you would get if you found out that someone was talking about you behind your back.

The result is that the Korean teachers will walk up to us in the middle of the day and say things such as:

• “Kristin, why didn't you give homework to Johnny last night?”
• “Kristin, Sarah has been picking her nose lately. Have you been allowing her to do this in your class?”
• “Kristin, why did you finish your class two minutes early yesterday?”
• “Kristin, you need to have better posture in class. You don’t look happy enough.”
• “Kristin, little Jackie went home yesterday and pretended to smoke a cigarette. The mother would like to know if you taught her this in your class.”
• “Kristin, the 4-year-olds play too often in your class.”
• “Kristin, the songs you teach them are too easy. The parents can’t see progress if you teach them easy songs.”
• “Kristin, you need to serve the rice on the left side of the plate instead of the right.” 
• “Kristin, we employed you to be fun, not to correct the students’ behaviour” (meanwhile, Sally and Erica are bullying little Johnny in the corner and I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut about it).

You will notice, I’m sure, that hardly any of these complaints are in reference to my actual job, which is teaching English as a second language. And this happens to be a job of which I believe I am highly capable and at which I have been quite successful.

We (my co-worker Corlia and I) have worked very hard. In fact, I do not believe that I knew the true definition of “hard work” before I came here. I don’t say that to brag – in fact, I know that the standard life of any teacher is tough. As a teacher, it’s not irregular to have a curve-ball thrown at you when you least expect it. The difference is, however, the environment which surrounds you.

Korean private academies (we call them 'Hagwons') are independently run. This means that they have no connection to the government whatsoever. The rules, conditions and atmosphere are decided only by the principal of the school. It’s essentially a privately-owned business. And because there are so many Hagwons in Seoul, it is easy for the mistreatment of employees to get swept under the rug (especially at small schools like mine).

For example, my regular hours are from 9:30 - 6:40pm. This, in itself, is no problem. But I have worked frequently from 9:30 until 3pm -- dealing only with small kindergarten children -- without a single break. In Australia, this would just not fly. I have also stayed at school from 9am until 9pm without getting paid overtime.  I have sat in the boss’ office and endured 40 minutes of him yelling at me without opening my mouth or even being asked my opinion. I have had new students join my class without notice. I have been hospitalized, placed on an IV drip for 3 hours and made to go into work that same day. We work hard all day and receive no positive feedback or even recognition that we are doing the right thing. 6 different staff members, out of a total of 13, have quit since I've arrived. We receive no more than a “hello” from the bosses on most days, and often they won’t talk to us unless we are doing something wrong (this might be understandable if it were a large office, but our school is tiny and the boss’ office is situated directly opposite from ours). We are given deadlines that we have to meet, and then our break-times are taken away from us. Things are miscommunicated and unorganized on a daily basis, and often we get in trouble for things that are simply not our fault. We were even thrown into the classroom on our first day without any training. When I first came to the school, I just could not handle it. I remember having a breakdown at school. I remember crying the first time I saw my parents’ faces on Skype. I remember asking God, “How? How can I get through this year?”

But here I am: living proof that humans can get used to anything, no matter how tough it is. Even just last week, after 7 months of working here, Corlia and I came back from a coffee break to find the boss waiting for us. He told us that we are not allowed to leave the building during our break times, that the break times are strictly for "preparing class material", and that “this has been the rule all along” (which it most certainly has not). It made us angry. A break time should be a break FROM work, should it not? Why are we not allowed to grab a coffee at the coffee shop that is literally a 10-second walk from our school?

Corlia questioning the meaning of life on our
final day of school holidays.

Alas (perhaps unfortunately) Corlia and I are used to it now. Nothing has changed, but we have learnt not to take anything personally in this place. This realization has made a world of difference to us. Most importantly, we have learnt to lean on each other in times of need. I thank God every day that I am not alone in this. Corlia has been my savior in many ways.

We often take for granted that which we are given when no hard work is necessary to obtain it. No job comes without hard work. But I must say, I definitely took for granted the comfortable, supportive, somewhat-laid-back work environments of the jobs I had in Sydney. And more than anything, I appreciate the efforts to which my bosses went to create such environments. My Aussie bosses always took interest in what I had to say and made me feel like a valued member of their staff. The difference made even by a simple “hey, how are you today?” is astounding. Above all, I have learnt that a happy work environment makes a productive work environment. Working while sick, demeaned, under-appreciated or under pressure can have an astonishingly negative effect on not just the body, but the mind of the worker.

I’ve lost sleep at night wondering how a boss can possibly go the whole day without smiling at his/her employees, let alone failing to even check in during their first few months in a new job and country.

Please don’t take this report as fact regarding all jobs in Korea. I do believe that Hagwons are your worst possible option when teaching here, given that it’s up to sheer luck whether you’ll get a good school or a bad school (I’ve heard praise from some and absolute horror stories from others). Also, I have been fortunate enough to have been blessed with a couple of very understanding Korean co-teachers who go that extra mile to make us feel okay (one of them bought me soup when I was sick!). If I didn't have these girls with me, and God to guide me, I would quite honestly be lost. Furthermore, I believe that my circumstance may be an exception, in the same way that there are bound to be bad jobs no matter the country in which you choose to work.

My friends and I have toyed with the idea of starting a Revolution: somehow bringing to light the mistreatment of teachers in (some) private academies across Korea. Too much gets swept under the rug. But we are almost powerless to change it. When I think about it, it disheartens me to the core. 

Nevertheless, I want to do my part, by sharing our story and spreading awareness. Teaching in Korea has many, many benefits for foreigners, and the number of foreigners is increasing every year. If you are reading this in the hope of moving to Korea, do not lose hope. There are brilliant opportunities for you. But you cannot just accept the first job that comes your way. Do your research. There is nothing more important.

For the rest of you, I merely wish to share with you my experiences, as well as the realisations to which I have come, having worked in such a place. After all, we will all experience what it’s like to have a job at some point in our lives, in the same way that we are likely to witness some form of workplace discrimination in our time. And in a changing world – one which is placing a heavier emphasis on me, myself and I as the days go on – we ought not to forget the importance of all parties in the workplace: whether it be the big boss who faces all kinds of stress on shockingly frequent levels, or the small, young man starting out on his first day of work; ambitious, perhaps ignorant, but every bit as important as the rest of us.

Note: Please excuse the extremely generic photo of a classroom at the top of this post. I want my school to remain anonymous.