Anyone interested in how sane, loving parents can wind up making choices they hate in the insane Korean educational environment should consider this post from Naked in the Sauna an absolute must-read.
Even though I knew I would leave, five years spent breathing the air of the pressure cooker system has reshaped my sense of what a well-rounded childhood should be, has molded my sense of what a responsible parent should teach his or her children, and has provided me with an additional set of narratives to draw upon when thinking about success and failure, class difference, and global power dynamics.
It would be easy to blast the Korean education system. I could, as others have, talk about the unnecessary competitiveness, the fixation on Seoul National University and a job at Samsung, the rampant bribery, the reliance on private tutoring which impedes social mobility, the use of violence in schools, the problems with bullying, the over-reliance on testing and memorization. It is harder, I think, to describe and appreciate the difficulty of opting out.
A few months ago W came home with the assignment to write four bars of music in 3/4 time which he, having taken no music lessons, didn’t know how to do. I hadn’t looked at a piece of music in two decades and it took a while to pry the necessary teaching out of my crusty brain. I realized with surprise that we were in the situation I had heard so much about — because hakwon (sometimes translated as “cram school”) attendance is assumed, kids who don’t go to hakwon can’t keep up at school. When I think of hakwon I usually think of English hakwon; although public schools start teaching English from at least 3rd grade, kids who actually begin at that age are already far behind. But music, art, math, and early preparation for the next year of school are also common enough to become standard. Since almost all the kids in W’s class have studied a musical instrument from first grade, the teacher expected that they would all know how to do the assignment. Although my husband and I, concerned with possible ADD and with W’s stress level, had just several weeks adjusting W’s schedule in order to give him more consistency and more playtime, I immediately began thinking of ways to squeeze in some piano lessons. My instinct was not to spend time raging at the system but to think of ways to win for W the ability he needed in order to keep up.
21/10/2008 at 3:57 pm Permalink
I just want to move to Hawaii. It seems that if you can acquire enought wealth to live in Hawaii, you can stop competing. “Hey, how come your kid can’t write 4 bars of music?” “Fuck it we live in Hawaii.” “Hey, my kids are bilingual.” “Hey I live in Hawaii, where do you live?, oh yeah Seoul, I guess it’s nice that your kids are so bright, but I don’t have to wake up every morning and hose the ajoshi vomit out of the street.” Now I bet that someone will post something about how life isn’t all that great in Hawaii, and in fact it is probably way expensive to live there, but sometimes I really wonder, what the prize is that people are competing so hard for here. You can bust your ass in school all of your childhood, so you can get that dream job and bust your ass in adulthood. I don’t quite get it. Is feeling superior to others really that seductive a drug?
21/10/2008 at 6:03 pm Permalink
IMO, parents flatter themselves by thinking that if they’re smart and succesful and shell out the bucks for a private education, then their kids will necessarily be smart and succesful. In fact, it can turn out just the opposite — spoiled rich brat who breaks down and turns into a sociopath.
I’m not saying succesful parents _shouldn’t_ push their kids, but having gone to a private high school and later taught at one (both in the States) you might be surprised at what a fine line there is between high-functioning over-acheiver and twisted little hooligan.
Balance is always a good thing in all aspects of life.