I dearly loved some of my students at the Chilgok LIKE School. But when it closed in April 2008 and I moved to the Yongsan branch, my happiness quotient tripled. Now I lived near a subway station and a Home-Plus store, I was two blocks from a park where I soon formed a joyous bond with a group of children, and most of all the school was run in an intelligent and professional manner. Jae-Young Noh, director of the Chilgok School, had simply not been capable of making it a success. I tried to help him keep the ship afloat, but it capsized and went down into the briny deep.
A couple of days after my arrival at Yongsan, a new class began. In walked at least a dozen girls, all of whom were wearing their middle school uniforms—white shirt, dainty tie, gray vest and plaid skirt. A tasteful ensemble, in my opinion. The school authorities evidently allowed the girls to choose their own footwear, and they personalized it with colorful sports shoes. Yellow-and-pink Converse All-Stars (for example) clashed with the unis, which was exactly their intent.
I do not know why boys had been excluded from this class, but there I was, facing a mass of 14-year-old pulchritude. One of the students was named Jeong-Hyeong. She sat in the first row, looked up at me dreamily and asked, “Where are you from?” In this class as well as others, I could detect distinctions that reminded me of when I was their age. Some of the girls had strong personalities, whereas others only wanted to fade into the background. Some were pretty and others less so. Their English abilities ranged from good to not-so-good.
Over a period of time, I came to know two of those young women, Su-Min and Min-Ju, well. When class was over, they sometimes hung around for a few minutes to talk. Best friends from elementary school days, Su-Min and Min-Ju were adept at creating artistic expressions with their computers and cell phones. This afforded me an interesting glimpse into the girls’ lives. They were enthusiastic fans of a K-pop band named Big Bang, especially its lead singer who went by G-Dragon. One day—obviously a vacation from middle school attendance—both of them were in casual attire in my classroom. Casual, but carefully chosen because they seemed to have excellent fashion sense. Another time, I noticed Su-Min and Min-Ju had been to the beauty shop because their straight black hair had been permed.
I recall two other amusing incidents involving this pair. In the first, they came rushing into my room eager to get my opinion about something. What? It seems they had bought cheap plastic rings of slightly different designs. “Teacher, which ring do you like better?” they asked. I had been put in an impossible situation and tried to finesse my way out of it. I liked them equally, I protested. Not good enough, I was told. I had to make a decision. Su-Min’s ring or Min-Ju’s ring? I was sweating bullets and ended up randomly choosing the one on Su-Min’s finger. Of course, she was delighted and crowed loudly about it. You can imagine Min-Ju’s response. My attempt to assure her that I also liked her ring availed nothing.
The other incident took place a few weeks later. In between classes, they came into my room. Whether this was planned or happened spontaneously, I do not know. Su-Min spoke as Min-Ju stood close by in an approving way. “Teacher,” she said earnestly. “We like the way you wear your clothes. We think you are very handsome. We love you.” Su-Min said other words along this line, but I cannot remember them. It was not a come-on, and they meant nothing inappropriate. I thought that maybe these two girls—who had earlier informed me that they unhappily lacked boyfriends—were using this safe setting to practice female–male interaction.
They knew they could trust me. I was aware that some unsavory things had happened at other hagwons; male teachers who had trouble adhering to limitations had seduced some of their students. I simply would not take part in such a crime and scandal, although that makes me sound more virtuous than I really am. I responded to Su-Min’s words in the following way. I said, “Well, I love you too.” Simultaneously, I touched her arm and began moving them toward the door. I brought the conversation, flattering and memorable though it was, to a close.
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