not as perceptive as you think you are

My co-workers keep telling me how much I love my students these days. I think: but haven't I always loved them? But didn't I love them more those first months at school?

Here is the story in four stages:

Stage 1: When I first came to Seoul Electronics High School last September, the students were strange to me, and I was strange to them. Just catching sight of me was enough to throw them into hysterics, and the prospect of teaching a class full of them was a fearful thing for me. For a few months I had a sort of crush on all my students; I did not see their faults and only saw my own.

Stage 2: After a while, I started seeing things I didn't like about my students. I saw their homophobia and their fat-phobia and their bullying tendencies and their disregard for the people around them. (Obviously, these do not apply to all of my students, or in equal parts to the students they do apply to -- I am simply naming characteristics [which I see as negative] that are fairly common at my school.) I scolded/punished these things when they occurred in my classroom but generally tried to forget about them after the fact so that I could continue to be in love with my students.

Stage 3: When the second semester came, my after school class started, and with it the necessity of managing and punishing a group of (largely) very naughty students. At first, I tried to rely solely on positive reinforcement; that failing, I scolded them a lot and warned them a lot and then gave out a fair number of punishments. For a while, I partially succeeded, but also fell out of love with a number of my students in the process. I was tired of their rudeness to me in and out of class, and I was tired of hearing their false excuses for skipping class. And even though the majority of my students were not the ones causing me the stress, my frustration at my after-schoolers bled over a little into my attitude towards the entire student body.

Stage 4: I stopped fighting with my after school students. I came to the conclusion that without the help of their homeroom teachers, there was nothing more I could do to induce them to come to my class or to behave respectfully (to me and to their peers) during the class. I accepted that they had not wanted to sign up for the class in the first place, and I stopped paying attention to them, instead concentrating solely on the diligent students who did/do desire to study English with me.

From the point I stopped fighting, we have slowly progressed to now. I love my students, really. Almost all of them I love; there are only a few who are hard to forgive, whose faces I am not happy to see when I pass them in the hallways. There is also a small but not insignificant percentage of students that I still have crushes on, the sweet, sweet students who still get excited every time we meet, who wouldn't be caught dead not paying attention in class, who say "Sorry, Teacher" when their classmates won't quiet down.

The majority of the students, though, I do not have crushes on, but I am still happy to see them and happy to enter their classrooms. My love for them is a calm, well-rounded love. I know them better than I knew them before. I love them for their silliness and find the process of waking them up for class endearing, and I can recognize the things I dislike about them without hating them for it. I like this stage.

sometimes I can't tell if your hands are on my head or if your hands are not on my head,

that's the truth.

edit:

This is what I will climb next. It's name is Surak-san. Our union happens Sunday.

more from 이연주 (I Yun-Joo/Yi Yeon-Ju/Lee Yeon-Joo...):

독재자

내 일기책은 두 권 -- 반항과 복종
열린 마음인 양 한 권은 사무실 책상 위에
숨통에 꾸려 감춘 다른 한 권에서는
도둑질 같은 땀이 귄다

반항과 복종이라는 두 명이
나는 어른이 되었네
이스트를 넣어 부풀린 삶 속에서
밀 덩어리를 반족하듯 -- 일기책

반항적 남성은 복종이 기쁨인 여성을 지배한다
흐르는 강물과 사계절은
지하실 남골당의 뚜껑 깨진 푸른 단지

두 갈래 습관의 혓바닥이 쓰네
노동의 참신한 내 하루
도둑질 같은 땀을 훔치며
도망치는 보상없는 내 하루

두 명의 나를 길러 끌고가는 나는
집단심리를 제대로 쓰는 재벌 아닌가?
어느새 나는 민중이라는, 내,
독재자가 되어 있다.


The Dictator

My diary is in two parts -- resistance and obedience.
One is an open heart on top of my office desk
and the other is shoved inside a throat,
a cold sweat gathers inside.

Now I'm a grown-up
with a yeast-bloated existence
as if working dough.
The diary of two things -- resistance and obedience.

A dominant male subdues a female
who finds happiness in obedience.
A flowing river and the four seasons
are a blue jar with a broken lid in a crypt.

The tongue of divided habit tastes bitter.
My new day of labor, a day of loss,
running away in a cold sweat.

I drag along the two of me I've raised.
Could I be the corporate class
proficient in manipulating group psychology?
Already I've become the populace,
the dictator of myself.

They fucked up the second stanza real bad, this time. This is a word for word translation:

resistance and obedience the two beings'
now I'm a grown-up
a yeast-bloated existence
as if working dough -- diary

I'm pretty sure that diary is meant to be read as a possession of the two beings. I have no idea what the clearest/best way to translate this is, but I don't like the way they switched around the word(s) following the hyphen in the English translation.

"Crypt" in the third stanza is also inaccurate; "underground room" or "basement" is more likely.

There are probably loads of things I don't understand about the original poem and how it was translated, but I like it, especially the line "I drag along the two of me I've raised." And I relate to the resistance/obedience conflict, I think.

The new secretary at my school found me in the subway on Friday, and we sat next to each other on the blue line going north for a while. She's a kind woman who has never been anything but sweet to me, and I didn't mind her company at all until she asked me what church I go to.

It's not so unusual here, the assumption that because I am American, I am also Christian. I am always carefully polite when I say I have no religion, far more polite than I would be in Michigan if someone made the same assumption about me. Should I feel the need to be this polite? The people who ask me these things have, after all, made a somewhat racist assumption about me, somewhere along the lines of: "she's white! she speaks English! she must believe in God!"

But Christian missionaries from the U.S. are a strong presence in Korea, and may have been an even stronger presence in the past. Maybe the association of American<-->Christian is not so unreasonable.

I feel as though the religious pressure on me is increasing these days. It wasn't so long ago that Park Mi-Ran wanted to introduce me to a famous singer who attends her church, wanted me to come to church with her. She knows I'm not a Christian, and I told her that I would probably feel uncomfortable going to her church because of this. She accepted my feelings, and told me to think about it. She told me that I am young, and I don't know what may happen to me or what I may believe in in the future.

Park Mi-Ran is a reasonable woman; she's not going to put undue pressure on me to do something she knows I am uncomfortable with. She's essentially just left the door open for me; she's not going to pressure me, but if I wanted to, she would be happy for me to bring the subject up again.

I won't bring the subject up again, but neither am I angry over this interaction with Mi-Ran. It's true that I don't know what will happen in my future. Having been a Christian as a child and having long since decided that God is not something I believe in, I doubt that Christianity is in my future - but I won't deny that it is a possibility. Mi-Ran was not disrespectful of me, I was not disrespectful of her, and we are going together to eat (Korean-version?) Argentinian food and watch a tango show this Tuesday.

My reaction to the kind-hearted and well-meaning secretary lady was just as polite, but I seethed for hours afterwards, maybe I'm still seething. After I told her I had no religion she proceeded to tell me that she wants me to believe in God, and that she thinks in 10 years I will be a Christian. I was never so happy to get off the subway.

It's acceptable for elders to interfere in the lives of younger people in Korea, I keep telling myself. It's acceptable for them to give un-asked for advice in all kinds of situations. I am a young person; she is my elder. It doesn't mean I have to follow her advice, but it does mean I should accept her input without anger.

But it makes me so angry. I have been working hard this whole time to accept the people who are in my life in Seoul, and to understand where they are coming from without judgment. It makes me (unjustly, I know) angry that they do not always return me the same favor.

Anyway, resistance vs. obedience. Most of the time I contain my resisting impulses and choose obedience - and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

**update: in retrospect, "rebellion" seems to be a more accurate translation of "반항" than "resistance".

BUKHANSAN

not-Baegundae-Peak

close to the bottom, with I Young-Gyung Sem.

we stopped at a food cabin near the top, drank makkoli. Young-Gyung was scared of the kitty.

and she was also afraid of heights.

alone at Baegundae Peak

together at Baegundae Peak. left: Mr. Yang; right: Koho

Young-Gyung finds the courage to stand without grasping the rail.

makkoli at the peak

maybe this is what I will climb next.

Koho didn't lie this time, Bukhansan was actually easier than Samaksan. Maybe my stamina's improving?

Oh, sheep. Oh.

I'm climbing this tomorrow:

Bukhannnn-san, and at the base of it, The Blue House.

not as hard as Samak-san?

We'll start at Suyu Station, eat lunch at Doseong Temple (Sa=temple, by the way. fuck youuuuu map translators). Then we'll climb to the damn ass fucking peak (Baegundae) and drink some goddamn makkoli.

Hangul fact time: 북한 = bukhan, and it means "north of the Han (river)". Naturally, Bukhan-san is north of the Han River. So is North Korea. Besides being the name of a mountain in North-Central Seoul, 북한 is also the unofficial name of North Korea as referred to by South Koreans.

Bukhan-san has a looming reputation, I'm a little nervous.

rampant Argentina
table-topping Argentina
star-studded Argentina
not the only loose cannon in Argentina
naked Maradona Argentina
sex is OK in Argentina

I'm obsessed with (#worldcup) Argentina.

it's true that my stalker tendencies have increased since I got to Seoul.

I continue to allow it.

I've been obsessed with this prettypretty man

Kim Hyun-Joong

ever since I finished watching Boys Over Flowers.

yeah! sell that cell phone!

doesn't he have a cute smile?

look at how cute he is with a towel on his head!

look, there's a horse!

I've also become consequentially obsessed with the boy band that Kim Hyun-Joong is the leader of, SS501, and their RIDICULOUSLY CUTE DANCE MOVES.

I'm sorry for the bad quality. But the dance moves are worth it, I PROMISE.

This is their newest song:

I already have the chorus memorized.

walnut ice cream popsicle

things I eat now that are different from things I ate before, the walnut baked into the sweet breaded crust of my red bean snack

I heard you say it. Will my iced Americano be special now? Don't assume I'm not taking bus number 9. These days I function at 10% but I didn't need evening class to learn 외국인.

I know you noticed the long skirt I wore last week Friday. Stop watching me. If you have not been my friend until now then it is too late. There are too many things I will no longer explain. It's true that I do not wear short skirts; it's because I'm hiding something.

Do not project your desire for a foreign lover onto me. I will not marry your son. You think I look better with long hair, don't you? I will not marry your church's best choirboy. I know

you have decided I'm lonely but it is not the kind you've imagined. I know you have good reason to think I do not speak your language.

Today had a lot of joyful things in it:

1. canceled classes = coffee, walnut ice cream, and a stroll around the school with the gossip girls
2. learned that I will share a room with the gossip girls at the teachers' training/hiking retreat in a few weeks. Why can I not stop thinking "sleepover!" ?
3. it started thunderstorming suddenly after lunch, and didn't stop until about 30 minutes before I went home. I had no classes, I stood at the school entrance and watched it.
4. three of my all time favorite students from Robot Electronics caught me on my way home, wanted to know what I thought of Korea's weather. I mean it when I say: what on earth would I do without these silly, diligent students who never stop being happy to see me?

See? Today had a lot of joyful things in it. I'm in the process of trying not to let my continued frustration at my after school class's situation get in the way of these things.

대한민국, fighting!

I haven't cared this much about soccer since 7th grade at Excel Charter Academy, but damnit, I want Korea to WIN.

dear 장마, dear East Asian Monsoon:

I'm expecting you.

Most Koreans get a little perplexed if I tell them I like rain. Rain in Seoul means acid rain; acid rain means you will carry an umbrella so that the chemicals don't get on your skin. (I own four umbrellas now. Do you still know me?) Umbrellas are heavy and inconvenient to carry on crowded streets. Everything gets wet. (Did I tell you most people also carry umbrellas when it snows in the winter? Again, because of the pollution.)

It never really occurred to me before that having grown up in a place where the air and the rain and the snow were not strongly affected by pollution could be a sort of privilege. Had I grown up in Seoul, I would probably not have the same fondness for rain. I would connect it with unhealthiness and inconvenience; I would grow tired of the humidity and the yearly monsoons.

As it is, I connect rain with peaceful sounds and fresh smells and cool air and calmness. So far I've found one of my students who grew up in Seoul, but likes rain just as much as I do. He's an oddball, I like him.

It rained all day today, but it wasn't the monsoon. The monsoon hasn't come yet.

sometimes I desire to set myself on a stage in front of all of my school

while I eat a bowl of spicy noodles with chopsticks.

It's just that, you know, you'd think that everyone would have all discovered a long time ago that I can eat with chopsticks. Really, what did you think I've been doing in the school cafeteria all this time? We've been to the cafeteria together, we've been to fancy staff dinners together. I have not tried to hide my eating habits. Why is it still a novelty that I use chopsticks well?

As part of my application to renew my contract here, I had an open class yesterday (with my principal, vice-principal, all of my co-teachers, and the English department from a different school all watching me). I haven't gotten any official news yet, but so far the feedback seems to be favorable.

Next, I have an interview. Then I'll sign a new contract. Then I'll get a new health check. Then I'll renew my visa.

I'm pretty sure I'm happy about the prospect.

reasons why people should be more careful about using a non-native language in ways that they do not fully understand:

Dear Korea: I think it's great that red is the official color for supporting the Korean soccer team this coming Saturday. But really, "the reds"? Dear native-speakers-of-English-that-I-am-positive-were-on-the-proofreading-committee-for-this-advertising-campaign: where were you on this one? Did it really occur to none of you that "the reds" might be a term with an offensive history?

Am I being overly sensitive about this?

pop music profile #13: SHINee - Nuna is so pretty (Replay) [english subs + romanization + hangul]

Let me tell you about incest in the Korean language. "Nuna" is the term this group calls their love-interest for the duration of this video; it means "older sister (from the perspective of a younger brother)". Younger brothers use this term to refer to their literal older sisters, but all men also use it for a slightly older (not old enough to be their mother) woman that they have a familiar relationship with (ex. a friend, a co-worker they are friendly with, or a girlfriend who is older than them - which is the aspect I find most fascinating). Generally, a Nuna is someone with at least a small amount of authority over "younger brother" - since authority comes with age in Korea.

"Unni" means "older sister (from the perspective of a younger sister)"; the same dynamics can probably be applied in the case of lesbian relationships, but I haven't been around enough Korean lesbians to know if this is the case. "Hyung" means "older brother (from the perspective of a younger brother)"; again, I haven't been around many Korean gay couples.

Last, "Oppa" is "older brother (from the perspective of a younger sister)". I hate this term, am so tired of it. Nearly all girlfriends and some wives call their boyfriends/husbands Oppa - it's all over the television and the streets of Seoul. And it's true that Nuna and Unni carry some authority, but Hyung and Oppa carry more. Because Korea is still a very sexist place. The thing I hate the most is the infantile, simpering, high-pitched tone that most girlfriends use to call "Oppa!"

So, "Oppa" is on my bad side. But I don't mean to say that I'm bothered by this system in which everyone becomes a member of your family. People old enough to be your parents become aunt/uncle (in Korean, of course), and people old enough to be your grandparents become grandmother/grandfather.

It's true that Nuna/Unni/Hyung/Oppa can be just another way to enforce gender roles. And they do enforce gender roles, people use them that way. But because of their gender-specificity, there's also the possibility to use these terms to fuck around with gender roles - I've seen it once or twice. There's a general assumption that two brothers will be closer to each other than a brother and a sister will be, and so an older woman can be called "Hyung" as an indication that she is closer to her "younger brother" than a Nuna would be.

In that case, the implied gender of the older woman is changed. I also find it interesting that gay men sometimes call older women "Unni" rather than "Nuna"; in this case, the implied gender of the younger sibling is changed.

It's all very fascinating. I expect this won't be the last time I'll write about it.

aigoo, you worked hard.

1. carve your name and the name of your village into the wall you have built, so that if it falls down we will be able to hold you accountable.

2. bow 108 times when you wake and 108 times before you go to bed. On Saturday, bow 3000 times.

3. climb the mountain. Do the hard thing.

4. do not take a picture.

5. hold my hand platonically. I will not know you are my friend if you do not caress me.

6. let's do it together. Let's take a picture.

this is what I looked like today

the Seoul Wall

KoHo and his son

me and KoHo's son

the peak of Baegak Mt.

my cluttered desk, my favorite students

my cluttered desk, between the computer and the scissors a teachers' day present from my favorite student

In the Korean part, he thanked me for my classes, told me the history of the souvenir he gave me, and said he wants me to have a good image of Korea even though the students at our school are naughty.

the whole school had a nature outing. gossip girl is intense.

Kyung-Hwa with the student who works as a model

me, Kyung-Hwa, Shin-Jung (my main co-teacher)

Shin-Jung with the Robot Electronics 3rd graders. Right behind her is my favorite student, Shin-Chul.

Young-Gyung (my youngest co-teacher) with the Robot Electronics 3rd graders

posing for senior pictures

he begged me not to save this photo.

me with Digital Electronics 3rd graders. In the white shirt: Jae-Pil, my second favorite student, who has received a lot of chocolate from me and sings opera to me when he sees me in the hallways

Shin-Jung and Young-Gyung

none of these pictures were my idea

Here are the pictures that were my idea:

there were freshly-picked lilacs in the bibimbap

Left: Mr. "GOD I LOVE GOLF" Kang; Right: "GOD I LOVE HIKING" Koho

revenge for all the above photos of me

apricot blossoms

Damnit, Mr. Kang, I don't WANT to give you my camera.