For those of you unaware of the school calendar in Korea, each school year begins in early March, and ends just before Seollal (Lunar New Year) in February. (They also have about four weeks’ vacation in January…which makes no sense to me, but that’s not the point). This means that my sixth graders are graduating elementary school and heading off to middle school. In America, this was exciting and scary, but not particularly momentous. In Korea, it’s more scary than exciting and it’s important enough to require a graduation ceremony.

Lots of kids don’t really look forward to middle school because this is where their childhood goes to die, essentially. Schooling in Korea is crazy intense and I never spend one day envying their lives. Many of them already attend Hagwons, or private academies, after school hours in addition to their public schooling. Often these kids will be in their school after school for hours, sometimes until 10-11pm. This all really ramps up in middle school, peaking heavily in high school because their college entrance tests are basically the most important job they have as kids. Unfortunately, Korea has one of the highest suicide rates for a developed nation due to this intensive schooling. Up until a few years ago, school was held Monday through Saturday, even.

Sometimes I get sad for the childhood they seem to be missing out on. But honestly, all of their friends are basically on the same level and if they didn’t attend these Hagwons, it’s likely they wouldn’t really have anyone to hang out with outside of them anyway. It’s all relative, more or less, and I do my best not to presume that my childhood was any better or worse than theirs seems to be. It is hard, sometimes, when I see kids falling asleep in class, or when they tell me that, rather than taking a break during holidays or vacation, they spent their time at the Academy. But such is the way of life in Korea and many don’t really know that it’s any different than kids from other countries.

For me, graduation is bittersweet. I mean, I barely know (most) of these kids, but I can’t help but feel proud that they’re doing well, growing up and moving on. However the ones I’ve connected with have left a permanent mark in my soul and I can’t help but miss them. There’s really one girl that has made an impact on me these last five months. She’s taught me a lot about curiosity, social customs and perseverance in Korea.

박수빈 is an average-height, slender sixth grade girl. She has straight, mid-length black hair and is always smiling. She also has the English proficiency of someone much, much younger. In fact, I can communicate better with some of my third grade students than I can with her. That hasn’t stopped her from trying, however. The very first day I arrived in Gwangju, I met her. She was SO EXCITED to meet the new English teacher. I thought it was a phase, feeling out the new teacher, but soon she was visiting me for up to an hour after school, usually once a week. As I said, she has very little English and I have even less Korean at my disposal. Together we would mime, draw, guess, translate and teach one another things we thought were useful to the conversation (me to her) or in life (her to me). That girl just wanted to spend time with me, and the more she came by, the more I wanted to spend time with her, too.

A couple months ago her father passed away. Many of you know that when I was 16, my dad died suddenly. It blew my world to pieces and when I heard the news, my heart broke for her. But there she was, a couple days later, in my class. It took her a couple weeks to get back to the never-ending smiles, but her spirit never broke. What a strong fucking kid, man. I wanted more than anything to tell her my story and let her know I was there for her, but I couldn’t, and I haven’t. Maybe it’s a good thing. I was still there for her after school and during class, and our relationship didn’t change. Sometimes, when everyone else is giving you pity, all you want is to feel normal. Maybe this relationship and language barrier were meant to be. At this point, all I know is that she is someone I will never forget. As a new teacher, both in life and in Korea, she was excited to meet me and genuinely liked me…and I feel like that’s half the battle.

I often look back on my schooling and think about the teachers who had an influence on me in more than an academic way. And honestly, I think my father’s death had a lot to do with that. I was supported by teachers I was close to, and became closer with those whose advice I sought in the wake of it all. I’m so grateful that I have maintained a genuine relationship, of one kind of another, with several of these teachers (GV, Pernice, I’m lookin’ at you). This is a whole different feeling, though. Now I’m the teacher and the student is the person impacting me. I wonder if I’ve made an impact like that on any of my teachers growing up. Frankly, looking back, I’m hoping whatever impression I may have left was positive and not negative…I was a rough teenager.

Tomorrow is the commencement for my visiting school. 박수빈 graduated last Friday at my main school. I’m profoundly grateful for her spirit and that of many of the students leaving school. I really didn’t think it would move me in such a way, but here I am being introspective and sentimental. I miss these kids already. If I have nothing else to show for my first year of teaching when I leave Korea, I will treasure the impact these students have had on me. I miss them already.