Last Day

Today is my official last day of teaching at my elementary school.

Not much is going through my head. Maybe because I still have two more classes left to teacher and it's only 8:30 in the morning. My last two classes are my grade 3s and 4s. While I'm not as connected to them as I am my Grade 6s and 5s, the bond is still thriving just the same.

My Grade 3 class were my first proper class. I got to start their English journey with them. Some days, I don't feel much like a teacher, but I know that with this class...I got them from getting their barely known alphabet to making sentences. I am so proud of how far they've come. While I am sad that I won't be such an intricate part of their journey anymore, I hope they continue their progress!

My Grade 4s....oh boy. It's been a battle since the very first lesson. There has been every nightmare a parent has experienced from their children's Terrible Twos outside of hospital visits. Would I go through it all again? Yeah, I would. Despite the wild emotions, we also had fun! This class took me a lot longer to understand and how to teach, but because of our hardships, the three of us have a solid bond. Even if they picked up my sassiness and use it against me. (Rude.)

I've also seen such growth in my Grade 4s that I get blown away every time in class. And today...today is my last day teaching them.

Now, as I mentioned...I only have two classes to teach. Which means I already finished teaching my 5th and 6th graders. Now these two classes are completely different from each other. My grade 5s...wild. I have no other word for them. My Grade 4s were emotionally wild, this class...they were just everything wild. The question you should ask yourself when it comes to this class: what didn't happen?

I'm not kidding. There was a time I would dread teaching this class. But yesterday, when I walked into their classroom for the last time, I found myself not wanting the lesson to end. I bonded with every single one of them whether it was through English or my (still) boss skills on the soccer pitch.

I remember the lesson that I shared with the VP for our first class together. They told me they knew 53 words. Spelling...not so much. But if they saw the picture, they knew the word. There were no full thoughts in English or even telling me how they were.

Not only can they now tell you how they're feeling, the weather, and what they do on the weekends...they can argue for more playtime.

Of course...that's nothing like my 6th graders who negotiated for American candy that I couldn't buy in Korea.

I was offended and proud at the same damn time. They may not have had all the finer details (a, the, tenses), but I swear. If those kids don't end up in law, the world is missing out on some fantastic negotiators. Korean or English.

I would have to say my Grade 6s were the easiest to get along with and the easiest to teach. They soaked it up and were quick to use what they learned. Be it for the lesson or against me.

I tried teaching them out of the textbook, but that was nothing when we stepped away from the textbook and I showed them a different way. They picked it up much quicker, and I feel confident they will succeed in Middle School and not be left behind.

Which is a common concern when it comes to students who learn rural before heading into the city for middle school.

Wow...I guess a lot is going through my head.

These next two hours, as of course my last two classes are back to back, may go fast or they may go slow.

Either way...they're ending on high note.

#SaveOurToya

Be Fearless

I've gone back and forth on how to announce this. Should I just tell people as it pops up in conversation? Should I make a post on Facebook and call it a day. Should I only tell..etc.

Silly me.

I forgot I had a blog.

How did I forget? Well...I've been really busy that it slipped my mind.

It happens, okay?

I'd like to see anyone turn their life on its head and try to remember to keep everything straight.

That being said...

I am officially announcing that I have accepted a position stateside and that my time in Korea will come to an end on Feb 15th, 2020.

Below are some Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ) that have been thrown my way recently:

What does this mean? You, leaving?
It means I have one week to finish out the school year (which ends Feb 14), inform my school, pack up my apartment into 2 checked bags (50lbs ea.), say goodbye to friends, find an apartment, go through reverse culture shock, make an extra effort in my Korean studies, and who knows what else.

Through this process, as I have 5 days left until I leave, I've begun to see the realness in some people. For some it's not pretty, and for others, it's a warm feeling. Either way, it's a bitter-sweetness.

Why are you accepting the position?
Because the position I was offered is my dream position.

Where are you moving to? Back to Florida?
Haha, no. Florida and I have decided to see other people, but it was a mutual break up. I am moving to Iowa. I hear they have snow there these days?

What will you be doing?
Stuff.

What does your family think of you doing this?
They're happy for me. As in, very happy.

How does your school feel?
As in all of them? I don't know. I informed my VP this past Friday and she was very happy for me. My coteacher found out later that same day. (For anyone who is thinking of breaking contract, unless the relationship you established between your VP and coteacher is a dynamic where you go to the VP first, please don't do this. You will undermine your coteacher and it may cause you more stress as you prepare to go home.)

My coteacher is happy for me as well, but she has also told me that my departure saddens her. Besides my VP, she and her husband were the first people I met from my school/town. And it is sad to think that I won't see them anymore.

As for my students and the rest of the school staff. I'm not sure when they'll find out...but this last week promises to be an emotional one either way.

Did the racism at your school drive you to leave?
No, but it did help in saying 'yes' to the offer.

When did you start job searching?
In an effort to get started in finding a job for my return in July, I had started job searching at the end of November/beginning of December. The position I wanted is limited and doesn't stay posted for long. I wanted to have my best shot at hopefully obtaining at least a couple of interviews during my second semester.

Surprise of all surprises, I was called for an interview in late December. I was doubtful that I would get the position. After all...It's been a while since I did the whole interview song and dance. Plus, it was a phone interview from Korea. I was 3 hours passed my bed time before I was done. Sleepy interviews and out of practice aside, I must've done something right to look favorable to this office.

Are you excited?
Very much so! But I'm still in a bit of shock that it's happening.

What are you going to do in Iowa?
Figure that out in Iowa, BUT my parents, brother, and some friends have already informed me of what I can do.

I'm pretty sure they're all more excited than I am....

What about Korea?
When I said it was a hard decision to make the other day, I wasn't kidding. Korea was another dream of mine. But in the limited time that I had in making my decision, I realized my time in Korea has more or less come to an end. I was falling back into a pattern of suffering in certain areas of my time here. I was hiding my hurts behind the good and enough was enough.

It would be better if I left Korea with a fond memory and not a struggling one. Which was a fear I had.

Did you tell your school you were facing racism?
I did not.

And here's why. It was easier to go through the day without acknowledging it, then to bring it up. There's a delicate balance here that one constantly fights to keep. When it comes to English, I am considered an expert. But when it comes to social aspects, I'm simply the foreigner and just don't understand how Korean culture works.

I'll tell you this. If it's one thing a Korean national who LOOKS Korean will never understand it's what it is like as a foreigner within their own culture. Like I said...it's a delicate balance and this one person isn't worth the trouble.

Will you miss it?
Of course.

Will you go back?
Yes. I hope to come back in 2025 for vacation. 😎😆

What will happen to your blog?
Nothing??? Just because I leave Korea, doesn't mean my story ends. Sure...this blog was started in the spirit of recording my time here, but it's become much more since then. It's become a place where I am honest with myself and my experiences. My e-diary that I don't mind sharing.

How's your packing?

#SaveOurToya

아시다시피...

"For five minutes, five, there is no Korean. Only English. If I hear Korean, we restart."

These were the words my 5th grade class got to hear. And I don't know if it's because I've been teaching for almost 1.5 years, the silence/paying attention for once, or all the TEDx talks I've been listening to, but today's lesson went almost perfectly.

The only thing that didn't go well...I didn't get to finish some of the slides. But that's okay. I'll just put them to Friday's lesson as a review for today's lesson.

No sweat.

Yet, despite having a great teaching day so far (I've taught 2 classes, and that 1st class could've gone better, I also know it could've gone A LOT worse, which is why I'm taking my win, thank you very much), I cannot get away from the explosive anger I still feel from last Friday.

Now, before I tell you what happened, let me try to put this anger to words.

I'm not a person who gets angry often. I can be, and I have been, but generally you can see happiness when you see me. Of course, under all that happiness is my social anxiety, depression, and a lack of self-worth, but the point is, no anger.

I like to get along with everyone I meet, but that can be hard. Some people don't vibe well, or they have no interest in being on good terms.

And fair. I respect that.

Boundaries are important.

What I can't respect is blatant disrespect. I don't just get angry. I get pissed.

You may not see smoke coming out of my ears, my face glowing as a visually red thermometer effect is happening, or growls coming from the back of my throat, but I won't be silent.

Unlike some people. (Is this a dig a certain group of people? Oh yes. It is. Keep reading until the end to see who.)

Not sure if I successfully penned out my words, but I did say I would try.

Let's get into what happened.

On Friday, it was lunch time. And lunch time meant soccer. Of course, waiting to let your stomach settle...not exactly on anyone's mind. We were about to have fun.

I promised a student I would be on the pitch, finished up my lunch, and felt pretty relaxed as I hustled to my spot in the goal.

At first, things started off well. I mean, for elementary schoolers playing soccer, there's passing and not bad passes. I see a lot of potential on the field, but all that potential goes out of the window the second these kids started to feel inadequate, ignored, or some other word that starts with 'i' that has a negative connotation.

I may not be a soccer expert, but as someone who played the sport for 9-ish years, playing almost every position (but goalie, ironically), with soccer camps, tournaments, and various teams, I'm definitely proficient enough to understand how the sport goes.

And with soccer, what doesn't fly, is narcissistic bullshit.

Guess who brings their narcissistic bullshit on the pitch?

The school's "best player".

Now, guess who gets hurt by it?

Everybody. The other team, teammates, the "best player".

I don't know what's going on in this kid's life or what may have truly sparked the narcissism (I can guess all I want), but you bring this bullshit on the pitch, people are going to get hurt.

Emotionally.

Physically.

Which is what happened on Friday.

The "best player", in his effort to be first to the ball as this whole game wasn't going his way, was tripped by another child who is 4-5 years younger than him on accident. We all understand how young children are here to play and have fun and what do you mean my limbs don't function the way I want them too?

But our "best player", as he fell and cried on the ground like the best Italian player, he was also up off the ground in the blink of an eye and shoving his "attacker" to the ground and saying spiteful words.

I think I teleported to these kids' sides so fast I broke the sound barrier. And, as a bonus feature, my students got to see what happens when you push me too far. As a daughter of a retired veteran, I've experienced a few...let's call them "army tactics"...when it comes to showing your displeasure with someone without putting your hands on a person.

1) My voice dropped several octaves.
2) I got close.
3) I kept it curt.
4) I didn't blink.

Now...this also comes with an intimidation factor that one should use responsibly. Personally, I don't like using it on children. There are other ways to get correct behavior.

And yet...

*sigh*

In my guilt, I let the game finish. It was much more toned down, except now the "best player" was releasing their anger on me. (Rather me than someone 4-5 years younger than them.)

Five minutes later, I was messaging a friend if they could translate something for me. Between leaving the pitch and sitting at my desk, I realized that what had happened could've been avoided. Sure, I had spoken up in the past when I saw unfair play, but unfortunately, it sometimes happens.

I realized, I should've been more strict about it.

I realized, I couldn't play with people who couldn't respect the game, let alone each other.

Toya teacher...she was done playing soccer.

Until my students learn to respect each other and the game, they can bet I won't be on that pitch for a single second.

And you know what else?

I wasn't the only teacher playing soccer. There were three other adults, one actively playing with us, who didn't do a damn thing.

Not a single consequence, scolding (outside of mine), nothing.

Where is the accountability?

A lot of people already drop the ball where I am concerned, but the students? Don't drop their ball. Unlike our students, I don't need someone to teach me how to act. I've had my lessons. But these kids....they're still learning. Give them their boundaries. Give them their realities. Give them their responsibilities.

As you know,

#SaveOurToya

Is it Racism?

UPDATED: 10/07/2019

Lately, I've been thinking about the privilege those in my school have. I can't say that I know their lives or what they've been through, but what I can say...they don't know what it's like to be African-American.

Korea is a pre-dominantly homogeneous society, surrounded by countries that are closer to their own characteristics. According to The Korea Times, a little over 3% of the population are foreigners back in 2016. Now, how much of that 3% are of non-Asian descent, or can't be considered 'passing'. As you can see, when you're not Asian, you stick out.

There's no hiding your foreignness.

And for the most part, I've been chill with it. Maybe because I'm a minority back home, or maybe because I'm a minority within my own minority. It's not often I come across half African-American and half German babies like myself. However, within America, we have started the discussion about the 'p' word.

Privilege.

Within American society, there are people who deny its existence. Their reasoning: I've never seen it.

And to no one's surprise, those who've never seen it are also the same ones who have it.

Being privileged in America is like having that famed hall pass. Here, let me explain.

Picture a regular school hallway. Add some lockers, school banners, questionable color schemes, everything that can come to mind when you think 'school hallway'. It's empty of course, as it's class time. Everyone is doing what they're supposed to, or attempting to, within their classrooms. Each classroom has their own rules and codes they have to adhere to, but they all follow the overall school rule of hall passes.

Hall passes allow you to be out of your classroom and walk through the empty hallways per the teacher's reasons. Those reasons can range from bathroom permissions or bringing something to the office. Maybe, it's to run a message to another teacher or go to the infirmary. The hall pass leaves you free from suspicion from the hall monitor that is roaming around the school ensuring order in the hallways.

After all, there are rules!

No one in the halls during class time.

Rules that can be bypassed with a hall pass.

Unless you have a hall pass.

And that's what it's like to have privilege. Someone in power bestows upon you this 'hall pass' at their discretion.

So, what does privilege look like in Korea?

In simpler terms, it looks like a successful Korean man who went to a SKY university, speaks Korean and (American) English who is rich. The way Korean culture has blossomed, has given a traditional importance to social hierarchy within language, both verbal and physical. It's been an interesting time learning the different levels of speaking formally and how to behave when drinking with coworkers.

These social norms have become such a part of my day to day, that I even reflect them when acting with other foreigners. Two hands when pouring them a drink, using casual polite speech when speaking Korean, bowing, etc.

That being said, recently I've been seeing behavior that leaves me...at a loss.

At first, I thought it was 'shyness'.

This person is new to the school and I'm clearly not Korean. It's common to come across many Koreans who are shy to interact with foreigners for a multitude of reasons. I'm not here to judge those reasons and do my best to understand them. I know what it's like to be surrounded by a multitude of cultures, skin colors, and languages. To judge someone not accustomed to such would be in bad taste.

Which is why I do my best to seem inviting. Kind smile, always a 'hello'- polite acknowledgement, really.

But after a couple of months with behavior turning from what appeared like 'shyness' to 'potential racism', I had to take a step back and look at my situation.

Am I quick to throw racism onto the situation? Is it my race that is causing them concern?

Well, I don't know.

So, then I tried to look at behavior. Always having their back to me, avoiding me, never responding to 'hello' in English or Korean, not eating lunch at the same time (anymore), and catching tale end furtive looks. I've seen polite friendliness change to instant disinterest when they realize they're talking to a foreigner.

That last one is what's stopping me from saying 'racism', but 'xenophobia'. I think this person has a dislike for 'foreign'.

So, why did I think racism, first?

Because that same person who gets to ignore me has had the freedom to be Korean in Korea, where they wouldn't be labeled as criminal simply because you were black. They don't know what it's like to be afraid of the police, that any stop could be your last stop. They didn't inherit the fear, anger, and distrust that I and all my brothers and sisters did.

My coworker has the privilege to act the way the do, not worried about how I would perceive it. To them, it may just seem they're giving an air of dislike, but to me...it's the attitude of a racist.

This person is not only xenophobic, but a racist.

This whole experience has soured my attitude a bit about teaching at my school. Being isolated is common in teaching abroad experiences, and some days it's harder than others. To counteract it, I've found my own ways to settle the feelings of segregation (and ain't that a smack in the face from the past).

And they were going well, until this latest mind-fuck.

#SaveOurToya

The Blue Screen

...of death.

Wasn't even the first thing I saw on my barely a year old laptop.

This is what I actually saw.

This traitor of a laptop decided to tell me, 'ooo gurl. We ain't got no hard disk.'

Now, as the smart and very capable person that I am, I answered, 'haha, you got jokes,'

My laptop did not have jokes. This was very real, and my hard drive was not working. I went to system diagnostics, I did the system test thing. Nada. Nothing.

We ain't got no hard disk.

Which meant a few things:

1) I'm about to spend money I had no plans on spending.
2) I needed to find a computer store (preferably one that spoke English)
3) I can't lesson plan.
4) I CAN'T LESSON PLAN. 

Some things needed to be repeated, and number three echoed in my head. At first, I thought it would be okay. I'm teaching at the same school for the second year. I'll be fine. Everything is mostly done anyways.

But then I got my final-final-final class schedule (it took a few tries to get it finalized for realsies) when my brain pointed out, 'ooo gurl. We got some new classes to prep for.'

It was not the same schedule as my first semester, unfortunately. I got 12 different classes. That's over half of my workload. And we ain't got no hard disk.

There was a small panic, not gonna lie. I flipped a bit.

Then Mom, awesome brilliant Mom reminded me I know people who could help me out. At least, on getting my laptop fixed. And while it was getting fixed, I realized, I could probably get my lesson planning done at work between my classes.

It's not the easiest. Lord have mercy on my exhausted brain, because it is a challenge to put lessons together in a busy office and dealing with potential racism. Trying to stay focused and work out what was happening around me and staying at 110% at all times was a juggling act I hadn't signed up for.

So, why not add Korean Language classes?

#SaveOurToya

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!

See, there's an interesting answer to that.

And it's: nowhere...everywhere.

Wait, what?

Exactly. This last month has flown by (despite a few stagnant days) and during that time I have kept myself extremely busy, but I've also just been doing my thing in my little town.

I do have a few things I want to talk about, and I'll post those next; but to explain why I've been radio silent it all has to do with the fact that I've been surviving without a laptop for a whole month. 

That's right. 

No laptop.

I've also started up Korean classes again.

I have a language exchange partner, now.

I'm doing TikTok videos, or at least starting to...

Oh! And most recently...I've agreed to give a small talk at the next Fulbright Conference later this month.

It's been a hell of a month, and I expect nothing less during my birthday month. Between going to the Geochang Festival, riding my bike into work, typhoons, and potential racism at work, I've kept myself busy.

Keep an eye out as I update my blog on my latest truths!

#SaveOurToya

Ps. all the blue (or red!) words are links to other posts~!

It's Funny

Funny, but in that ironic sense of way. A few days ago, I was wondering if I should post something before the end of the month, to give March one more post, but thought against it. I don't like posting to just post.

I prefer to have something of sustenance go up. Something that will give me a good insight to what I was thinking about, without having to flex my brain very hard later down the road, wondering what was going through my mind.

Ah, what can I say, I'm lazy and I embrace it. 

Now, back to the irony of it all. 

Yesterday, someone mentioned that they've been meaning to write again, and really wanted to, but just...[insert half arm flail here...you know the one]. 

My response had been not to stress it. A writing piece will come when it comes. 

Not even 24 hours later, and here I am.

Last night, I was faced with a small anxiety attack that made me question why I wanted to stay in Korea for a second year. Holy hell that had been uncomfortable. I felt clamy and discomfort in my own skin. In my own bed. The moment you're uncomfortable in your own bed, is the moment you know you're not doing well.

It was my bed.

The one place I don't have to be anyone. I can just be a blob of exhaustion and still sass people from the tips of my fingers. The bed is a sacred place. 

And yet because of one 아저시, I was in an unsettled place, because of him and my trash. 

It sounds silly, doesn't it?

An anxiety attack because of the fucking trash.

*sigh*

I don't want to invalidate my experience, by saying it shouldn't have happened. That I am embarrassed by such a tumble of emotions to the point that I will discredit my experience. 

It's so hard though!

I'm internally struggling to find a balance between acknowledging what happened and avoiding it. 

Which is probably why I am writing this post now. 

I am acknowledging that my thoughts spiraled downward so fast any Korean would be proud at the speed. I went from, 'taking my trash out!' to 'did that man just grunt at me?' to 'wait, my trash DOESN'T go here? Well, where the hell does it go?' to 'there's no place for my trash, my life is going to turn into a trash dump...literally' to 'fuck, why is this guy such a dick?'. 

And as I was climbing into bed, to fall asleep for the night, bam! 

Anxiety showed it's ugly head.

The only way, I was able to settle down enough to fall into a restless sleep was by giving myself a game plan for the next day. I would go into work, speak to my co-teacher about the trash, and have her call the building owner. I was going to get my confirmation of where to put the stupid trash, so my life won't physically reflect what it sometimes feels like. 

And guess what I found this morning on my way into work.

Exactly.

I went through all of that last night, for basically nothing. 

Oh wait. I think I'm getting ahead of myself a little. 

Remember the 아저시? For those who don't speak Korean, it translates to a man who is between the age of 40 to 60. He was out smoking his cigarette and saw me drop off the trash at the 'not your spot'. I barely looked at him, mostly focused on my audio-book, when I heard random grunting noises over the narrator. I turned around and he starts talking. 

"Do you live in that building? Yes? Then, you can't put your trash here. Your trash site doesn't exist? It's there. Just look around for it. This place is for this building. Not yours. You understand? Good. This is not for your building."

That's pretty much the gist of what he said, as he points around with his cigarette. It was a surreal experience, that I was able to understand as much as I did, not freak out, and was even able to negotiate that I could leave my trash there for the evening.

I, personally, did not understand why it really mattered, it's all going to the same place on the same garbage truck...but anyways, yeah. Negotiating trash location without freaking out, I counted it as a win.

The freaking out was saved for later.

Now, here I am, sitting at work, well aware of where my trash goes, wondering why I wasn't told about the trash spot to begin with? 

Oh wait. I'm a foreigner. 

#SaveOurToya

Spring - 봄

Small confession time.

I submitted a small piece to Infusion, Fulbright Korea's magazine. Per it's about section, "[t]he magazine aims to capture the diversity of the Fulbright Korea experience by publishing work from Fulbright Korea senior scholars, junior researchers, English teaching assistants, and program alumni".

Though I aimed to see my name in print, I'd been offered the opportunity for a web publication. Which is still a fantastic opportunity!

My editor and I worked on my piece I titled "Spring - 봄" for a little over a week. Between our teaching schedules, life schedules, and sleep schedules, we were able to create the piece below. I want to give a special thanks to Kyle, for seeing my piece's potential and helping it bloom.

Unfortunately, it wasn't published online. But that's okay. You win some, you lose some.

However, fortunately for me, I have an online platform that allows me to publish whatever I want.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Springtime is for new beginnings and cleaning up the hot messes you’ve carried through your life the previous year.

As 2019 began to trickle in, I noticed bits of 2018 overflowing into the new year.

And the thing is?

I felt every moment of it.

I'm pretty sure most, if not all of us can summarize 2018 exhaustively as, 'What the what?'

Not to worry, I'm not about to relive 2018. I'm talking about new beginnings, remember? While others are busy spring cleaning and getting ready for the next year, Fulbrighters in Korea are focused on whether they choose to renew or not.

For some of us, the decision is easy, while others struggle. Like the onslaught of pollen, so many thoughts fly around clogging up the path towards decisions we wish to make, and really...we just want to breath again. At the beginning of our grant years, we all came with goals in mind.

As each day gets carried off by the falling leaves, frozen fingers are challenged to keep up with the changing seasons and its new demands. Through our grant year we are tested and we change our minds about our goals, possibly multiple times.

I've spoken with various Fulbrighters in Korea. Some of them have similar stories, whereas others are definitely having a much different experience during this 'should I stay or should I go' period. Just like the beginnings of spring, it's a hot/cold situation. Winter still clinging despite everyone hoping to see flowers bloom and not wear long padding anymore.

A Fulbrighter explained it as a game of Uno when someone plays the Reverse Uno card. In one breath, the decision is going down a steady path, and the next...it's going the complete opposite. It's these moments that we weather out. We talk to our fellow Fulbrighters, we continue having our experiences in Korea without pause. A few of us are at ease during this time, and they are the lucky ones. They get to play an Uno game without many plot twists. The other game that is being played has a multitude of unexpected twists and turns, and there isn't an end in sight until all the cards have been played.

And a decision has been made.

If a Fulbrighter isn't jumping between hot/cold and Reverse cards, then did they really move abroad? Did they truly challenge themselves and commit to being cultural ambassadors?

A Fulbrighter's first year is a year of realizations and new experiences. From humid summer days at Orientation to cool evenings during our first months of teaching to the freezing winds bringing snow, we start to learn more about a country so different from our own.

A country that thrives despite the weather or hardships around them. Just like a Fulbrighter.

As snow melts and the cherry blossoms touch the sky, we begin to make our final decisions. The decision that will outline the next three hundred and sixty-five days of our revolving lives.

Do we stay for a second year, and deepen our bond with Korea?

Do we stay for a third?

Do we switch programs, because we just completed our third year and aren't ready to leave yet?

Do we stay calm, because the decision was never really a problem to begin with?

Or do we go home, and see what happens next?

So, perhaps Spring time isn't just about new beginnings, but for the hope of something more.

And maybe that’s something worth carrying into the Summer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There you have it. My first adventure into being published (not on my blog). Tell me your thoughts. What did you think about Spring? Could you move across the world for a year? What would you do in Korea if you could visit? Would you stay for a second or third year? Don't be shy!

And as always,

#SaveOurToya

Undermining

In Korea, it's important in saving face. It shows respect to those around you that you keep potentially embarrassing conversations out of the ears of others.

I have mixed feelings about it, as I tend to confront situations head on, but I do my best to respect Korean culture. I am a guest of the culture. Not my place to say anything. Sometimes, people wait to tell me something, or they'll say it right then. I'm fine with either way.

Except when it undermines my authority as a teacher.

Then I just get pissed off.

I have established an "English Hour" in one of the many classes my fifth and sixth graders get to see me. It isn't even a full hour. Classes run for 40 mins, and I usually wait five minutes into class before establishing the English Hour rules. So really, these kids have 35 minutes where they have to only speak English. I didn't think I was asking for much.

I've had many language teachers pull that out on me at all levels of language acquisition. And my 5th and 6th graders have had 2 to 3 years of English education by now.

And yet...when another teacher subbed in for their usual homeroom teacher, she not only spoke Korean to them during that time (despite usually speaking more English...?), she confronted me in front of the class that and "English Hour" is too challenging for them.

What? Does she think moving to a whole new country where you don't speak the language and then have to teach a subject that is not in your area of expertise is easy? Do my students think it's easy for me to have a language barrier in all aspects of my life while in Korea?

Spoilers, it's not. I've had to adapt and adjust as needed. I've learned key Korean phrases. I've had improve my non-verbal speaking skills. I've had to stay respectful to those I would've snapped at months ago. I've had to find a new balance for the sake of my sanity. I've faced more fears living in Korea these last 9 months than I've had in the states.

English Hour is not only a place to indirectly test the students in their knowledge, but also to help them develop other acquisition skills when words FAIL them. Have them draw what they're trying to say. Have them use their body as an instrument of language. Use other words to say the word you don't know. Hell, ask to use my phone for google translate.

Anything, as long as it's not in Korean.

And yet...

...my students still speak Korean. The teachers don't respect my request for English only.

It's frustrating, but it's a fact. One that I'll have to work with throughout the year. I am hopeful that I can get some if not more than half of my students respecting my English Hour request. It'll just take time.

#SaveOurToya

The Gendering

(Warning: foul language thanks to the patriarchy, and an abundance of Captain Holt gifs from Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

Amidst the recent news of male K-Pop celebrities and their criminalizing actions, I feel an overwhelming amount of rage, frustration, and irritation. Which sucks! I'd much rather be writing my blog about my conference in Taipei, Taiwan, but instead here I am telling you that I feel as if everything is garbage. 

I'm not going to go into the details about the current K-Pop trash that's happening as the full story has yet to be released; however, knowing that one of the idols that brought me into the realm of K-Pop did such disgusting actions has left me betrayed.

And perhaps that's why I had to hold myself from snapping at my coteacher today. I was so raw from the news last night that I couldn't handle hearing, "it's too hard for girl students to play [soccer] with boy students".

I'm sorry, Fuck that noise. 

I will not be apologetic for believing that my girl students are just as capable as my boy students. All of my students have the potential to play soccer with anyone in this school. 

Don't get me wrong, I did want to rearrange my students within my English Soccer class, but not for that shit reason. Last week, I noticed a distinct lack of interest in my girl students. They didn't really want to play soccer, and I understand that. Sometimes, you don't want to play a sport. I remember more than enough times back in P.E. when I hated the gym activity and just made the motions. 

I can't say what drove their lack of interest in soccer, and maybe it's because the class is boy-dominated and some (one - and you know the one) of the students play dirty. Maybe they hate soccer or doing sports. 

Either way, what I saw was a lack of skill in the sport. Therefore, I would rather have placed my fifth grade girls with the 3rd and 4th graders, simply so the skill set was matched. And my 5th grade boys would go with my 6th grade boys (its this group that's usually playing soccer after lunch anyways). 

Now that I have my class divided on the premise that "it's too hard for girl students to play [soccer] with boy students", I feel irritated at my school. 

At my teachers. 

At my students. 

I know! I know its not their fault.

It's the fault of their socialization within a society that reinforces girls being soft, delicate, and precious as children and as adults, they're seen for their usefulness to their male-counterparts. I weep at the thought of not being able to express my frustrations to my school. 

Am I giving up before I even started?

No. 

What I recognize is that talking to my coteacher or even the administration won't get the point across. Unfortunately. Instead, I'm going to work with my students directly and empower them. Language barrier there may be, but a good cheerleader I am. (3-ish years as a cheerleader before I switched to 9-ish years of playing soccer.) 

Sure, the point is about teaching English through the use of soccer, but I can also show them they have it all within them. I may doubt my teaching ability from time to time, but rarely do I doubt my ability to stand with someone. 

Today, I stand with my students. Not to say "you're wrong!", but to say "you can do it!"

#SaveOurToya

Saturdays

I can still remember a time when Saturdays were about lazy wake-ups, family breakfast, and catching my favorite Saturday morning cartoons. There had even been the odd day where I could slip back into bed and catch a few more minutes of sleep before I would be reprimanded into Saturday Cleaning Day fun.

Unfortunately, those Saturdays no longer exist for me. I can't remember when things started to change, or if it's even finished changing. What I do know is that on this sleepless Saturday morning, while walking to my Korean lesson, I made a realization on a matter I've been avoiding since elementary school. At some point during those formative years, I had begun lying to myself. One of the best well-kept known secrets.

This wake up call came while I was in the process of walking by a group of men this morning and did not feel threatened. Now, I cannot speak for all women (cis or trans), but many of us share an unwanted understanding. This awareness that we share is that a group of men does not equal safe. It doesn't matter if we are with friends or walking on the opposite side of the street. Too often have we heard of our sisters being targeted simply for trying to exist.

Rape culture is alive and thriving in this man's world where women are seen more as a way to improve a reputation than a person.

Another human-being.

So yeah. We understand each other's fear.

But this morning, as I walked by this group of men, that fear could not be found. It wasn't because I suddenly felt a sense of womanly empowerment. Or the fact that Korea has felt safer to me than a time in the states. No, fear was no where to be found.

What I felt instead was my anxiety questioning if any of them found me even remotely worth looking at outside of my clearly foreign features. If I was even remotely worth attacking.

Let me say that again.

If I was even remotely worth attacking.

The wave of anger and disappointment that overcame me when I registered what I had just thought was so heavy, I had to sit down. I slipped into the nearest cafe and found a seat. I could ask myself if I lost my damn mind as many times as I wanted, but I wouldn't have been able to answer.

Because there it was.

The secret that has always been there, but I've managed to avoid in an almost comical routine as I pushed through the day. I finally confronted my unspoken secret on the second floor of an Ediya cafe, two hours before my Korean lesson on a Saturday morning.

My lack of self-esteem, my self-worth...they were no longer a secret.

I don't know how this may change me, now that I'm acknowledging what I lack. Maybe I'll find that empowerment or perhaps my self-esteem will get at least a little boost?

Who really knows?

#SaveOurToya

Starring Toya

February is here!

What will become of our wandering heroine, you may ask? Or you don't really care...

Either way!

February is here and I'm happy.

Everything has worked itself out for me, somehow...

These last six-ish months, were as much up as they were down. It was a bit WILD, to be honest.

But now...now, things have settled and feel...like a cliche moment.

Wait a minute... Am I seriously living a cliche? It's as if my movie suddenly did a wrap, everything just...works itself out.

Oh dear god.

I'm living a cliche...

#SaveOurToya

Depends on your school

Some of you who've found my blog, may be contemplating Fulbright Korea? If so, then this post may be of interest to you!

As right now, I'm about to drop some knowledge about the program that you don't see until you're in the program.

Everything can be boiled down to four words: depends on your school.

How many classes you teach? - depends on your school.

What kind of classes you teach? - depends on your school.

Homestay Family? - depends on your school.

Coteacher's interaction with you? - depends on your school.

None of us ETAs have the same story. From one ETA who teaches 8 classes to another who teaches 25. Oh yeah, you may be teaching over 22 hours a week. Of course, you'll be paid for the extra work, but still. It's overwhelming and intimidating, but once you get into the flow of things, it's doable. You may be lucky that you don't have to create a new lesson for each hour and that you can use the same lesson for all the same grade levels. Unless, you're like me...

Me, being an Elementary ETA who teaches a total of 20 students, with my smallest class being 2 students big and my largest class being 11 students small. Practically creating new lessons at a constant rate. 

Fulbright can prepare you for some of the cultural differences and potential misunderstandings during Orientation. They can also help with your language skills. Oh! And polish some of your teaching skills through workshops and FEP teaching .

But, once you leave Orientation and you're at your placement...your school is who guides you through the rest of your year. You will get tested emotionally, physically, mentally, psychologically, and any other '-ally' that I can't think of right now. 

It is literally like any other job, if I were honest. Your first month at a new job will have you thinking, 'I love this job!' to 'Ugh, why did I take this job?'. When you become a teacher abroad, it's a bit longer than a month. And once you feel at peace with your job, you realize it's been about six months. That is why a lot of people who teach abroad tell you, 'the first six months are the hardest'. 

Probably a little harder than they need to be, but a positive attitude helps you get through the worst of it. How you look at your situations, every single one of them, will shape your experience during your grant year. While a lot of your day to day is dependent on your school, all of it is dependent on you.

Are you going to look at your situation in a negative way, making it worse, or are you going to be positive, and make the best of what you have?

I could be upset that I have to create 22 new lesson plans a week, or I could just take this as an opportunity to show my students more fun ways to learn English.

#SaveOurToya

Host Families

May I be frank?

Because I think it's time we've had a real conversation about host families. It's such a big part of the Fulbright Korea experience, after all.

I've mentioned my host family in the past a few times already, both in a positive and not so positive light. I haven't necessarily hidden anything, but I think I've finally figured out how to describe a homestay.

And though you may not like what I'm about to say, its the honest truth.

A homestay family is what you make of it.

Each family is different. And that's the most important thing to understand. No one family is alike. They all have different situations going on, with different plans and ideas. They even have these preconceived ideas of who you are. They worry about what to feed you as they are required to feed you both breakfast and dinner. They make agreements with your school before your arrival.

Or not with your school and everyone finds out last minute or mid-way through your grant year.

Now, none of these statements are excuses. They are simply statements of facts that can and/or will affect your homestay life.

Does that mean that you live as if the other shoe may drop at any second?

Maybe.

But it doesn't have to be that way.

I already said it. Homestay life is what you make of it.

So, how do you handle moments that leave you- well...freaking out?

First, your freakout is totally understandable. There's nothing wrong with it. Nothing.

Its the next part that's a little harder. Making an informed decision of what to do next.

For example. Your homestay family just told you something that basically sounds like you're going to be homeless in a month or two due to them only agreeing to six months of housing you.

That's all they tell you and it's left you floundering for at least a week.

But there's more.

There's always more...

That is why making an informed decision is so hard.

So, you have to give it time, even though you don't want to give it time. No, that's the furthest thing from your mind of what you want to do. Time? Ugh, no. But time you must give. Because then you find out the truth.

The truth why you're only staying for six months.

It can take weeks before you get the full story, but at the same time, you're going crazy from all the thoughts.

Homestays can be hard, they can be challenging in ways you least expect them to be. But you can also have fun and have loads of inside jokes with your homestay family. Half a year can fly by and you don't even know it.

Make what you can at your homestay, and never not try to connect with the people that you live with. You may be surprised who you're living with, whether the situation is bad or good.

#SaveOurToya

I don't like being tricked

Today, I found myself silenced again.

But instead of some creep trying to assault me, my host family, with all their good intentions, completely disregarded my wishes.

My voice.

This time, I didn't stay quiet.

I've been fighting off a cold/flu thing this last week. And all week, my host family has been urging me to go to the hospital, to which I have politely declined.

"No, I'm good."

"No, thank you."

"No."

I don't think I could have been any clearer in my wishes of not going to the hospital. And yet...I found myself at a hospital this afternoon (12/31), politely rejecting my host mom from making me an appointment.

Fam, they got me all the way to the hospital before I figured out that the appointment wasn't just for host mom, but also me.

It took longer than it should have for host mom to understand that I was not seeing a doctor, no matter how nice she was trying to make it sound.

"Oh, he's really good for a cough."

"Do it for the experience."

"Host dad is worried."

I don't give a damn about a doctor's credentials. I do not want the experience. And I won't be guilt tripped into making a decision I've said I did not want to do. You took my choice away from me. You disregarded my voice on the matter. And you fucking tricked me.

I don't know how often I've told them that I don't go to the hospital for a cold. It's not a matter of pride or having sub-par health insurance, but a matter of cultural differences. For me, a cold means sleeping it off. Not a trip to a hospital.

A cough means I just got over a cold and I'm working on expelling the mucus. Not a trip to a hospital.

I don't know if I've expressed it well enough, but the shit they just pulled?

It was a slap in the face.

I've been told by others that they mean well. Meaning-well is one thing, for which I have nothing against. But disregarding what I've been saying because you think you know better than me, is a completely different story.

See, here's what I seriously don't get. I've mentioned this before, but it bears mentioning again. Why is it, we get all this training about respecting the culture here, but schools and homestays don't get taught to respect our culture? Our thoughts and opinions? Because at the moment, the way I see it, because we're being polite and respectful, we've built this persona that is more or less disregarded by our peers around us. Because they think they know better.

And fine, this is their country. They do know better on how their country works. I can admit I don't get how things work in Korea, and I'm constantly learning new things.

But when it gets to a point where I'm walking out of a hospital pissed, because the people who are supposed to be my "family" have disregarded my wishes, then there's a problem here.

You know what, even when I was completely pissed and extremely tempted to just walk out of the hospital, I still tried my hardest to be respectful and make sure my host mom saved face. Hell, I'm pretty sure I kept that stilted, but polite smile on my face the whole time.

Right now, I honestly don't know how much longer I can stay in a homestay. There are good moments, one's I don't write about, but they exist. They make staying here, a lot of fun. But then things like this happen and it reminds me all over again why I want to have my own place.

#SaveOurToya

Poetry - I am tired

It's a struggle being constantly on.
I never stop smiling
I never stop laughing
I just never stop.
Sometimes, I don't even know why I'm happy.
Have you ever stopped
and thought about it?
Why am I happy?
Why did that make me smile?

It's a struggle being constantly on.
I never stop smiling
I never stop laughing
I just never stop.
I've been on for so long,
I don't even remember what it's like being off.
I imagine there's an inner peace,
cradling me in its arms,
whispering softly that everything was gonna be okay.
That I don't have to try so hard
that I can just drift along
and leave my worries outside my four walls.

It's a struggle being constantly on.
I never stop smiling
I never stop laughing
I just never stop.
I want to say that there was a time
when 'on' read as 'off'
and I didn't have to fight my reflection.

It's a struggle being constantly on.
I never stop smiling
I never stop laughing
I just never stop.
Do you know what it means
to constantly be at odds with your Self?
All I want to do is sleep
and know why I laugh.
But every time I try,
pulling my strength from pools
I didn't even know,
something- someONE
steps in my way
And I'm still running,
running,
running- Where am I running?
I don't know.
My legs are tired.
My laugh is tired.
I am tired.

It's a struggle being constantly on.
I never stop smiling
I never stop laughing
I just never stop.

Crying At Work

That's right. I was crying at work today.

They weren't sad tears, but relieved ones. 

I think...

After the week from hell, I had another case of students using rude language in the classroom. Do you know what it's like to hear a student say, "what the fuck?" after you give them an assignment? A student who, four years ago was in kindergarten? 

And it's not just one student. It's many students. Who say it at different times, on different days.

I'm well aware that they're kids, who don't have a true understanding of what they're saying...but...come on. 

I've stopped class mid-session and called them out on it.

I've said sternly, many times, "No. We do not say that."

I've even kicked two kids out of my classroom, and spoke to them one-on-one. 

For four months, of constantly telling them to stop, that it makes me sad, that its not nice, I'm finally brought to tears. 

But not because they cursed me out. That, while hurtful, isn't something that could bring me to tears. They're a couple of decades to early for that. 

No, I was brought to tears because of the apology I just received. 

My fourth grade class, the hellion-class, the ones who have tried me every day, just all said their apologies to me in various states of devastation. It came to my attention that the class was made aware of how I felt when they spoke rudely to me, around me, against me. 

And in return, they asked me to meet them in the science classroom, so they could apologize.

Y'all, I don't even care that they said it in Korean (mostly) and that one of the teachers translated for me. I don't even care that they made me ugly cry in front of them. 

All I know and feel, is that my heart isn't as heavy anymore. After their individual apologies, I had a teacher translate my teary response.

Here's what I told them...more or less...

"I am so happy that you've all apologized. I don't think you understand how much it hurts my heart when you speak rudely. I am so far from home, and I want that we have fun together. I want to make good memories with all of you. My heart is much lighter now. Thank you."

Then I gave them all hugs, because hugs make everything better. It didn't matter that I was ugly crying...some of them were ugly crying...no, that's not what mattered. 

What mattered was that we were moving passed this tough time together. That they understood my feelings and I understood their's. 

That is why I don't think I can classify my tears as tears of relief. It wasn't relief that I was feeling...not exactly. I was feeling an overwhelming sense of connection. I felt that finally, we connected. That we understood each other. 

And now for the rest of the day, I have such a delicate balance on my emotions. I can feel myself sometimes tipping over towards, 'gurl, you abou'ta cry', and have to jolt myself back to a steady spot before I ugly cry in the 교무실 and we don't need that. 

No one needs that.

Well, I probably do. But I can cry at home when I have my hot chocolate with some marshmallows that apparently Daiso sells. 

#SaveOurToya

Baker's Table - A Restaurant Review...sorta

One of the goals I made for myself this grant year was to find a German restaurant in South Korea. While I know how to make most German dishes that I crave from time to time, sometimes I just want someone else to cook. That's right, I admit it. I like being lazy.

Big shocker.

A couple of weeks ago, I found a place called Baker's Table. It had a pretty intensive menu that put a smile on my face and a dinner date in my planner. 

Finally the day came. I was so excited! I found some time before my meeting to scope out where the place would be, so I could head straight there after my meeting and make the most of it before catching my bus.

I don't think I can convey just how much I needed this to be a good moment for me.

No, not good.

It needed to be wonderful, exciting...brilliant.

When I finally stepped foot into the place, I...was kinda disappointed. 

In a single glance around the place, I noticed it was packed to the point of being uncomfortable. Which meant, there would be a long wait.

Really long.

I would miss my bus, long.

You know, big picture here...with the week that I had, I wasn't too surprised that this wasn't working out for me either. Disappointed, but not surprised.

Instead of focusing on the crippling disappointment and crying in a room full of strangers, I decided to grab some stuff from their bakery and then take off. It'll give me the chance to pop into a clothing store I've been eyeing (OKBT) before heading to the Nambu Bus Terminal.

Sometimes, I'm really thankful that my brain can make rational decisions while the rest of me is trying to figure out which way was up. 

I'll have to try again another day, but...at least their baked goods were rather delicious. Which I had to wait about ten minutes to get together. 

Here are some pictures of the bakery:

#SaveOurToya

Curious about the week I had? I recommend reading the following posts: Lost, Permanency, and Train Naps. They all happened within a week's time marks one of the roughest weeks I've had in 2018.

Permanency

Trigger warning: gun violence at school

Despite my trigger warning, I want it to be said, there was no actual gun violence at my school. No shooting. No injuries. The students and teachers are all okay.

Me?

...not so much.

Y'all, I don't know why this week has been so shitastic, but it's been crazy hard this week. From bad-mood inducing news from my host parents to being bad-touched on a train to a small panic attack during third period on a Thursday.

I would like nothing more than to tell you about a good day, a good moment, or a happy feeling, but frankly...this week has been battling me every step of the way.

As many of you know, I'm half-American. I was raised and educated in the USA, thus my perspective has a multitude of American influences on them.

And today....today, I learned a valuable lesson that I never gave much focus to before.

When walking to my second class today, I noticed that my kids were a little bit more rowdy than usual. It's been a wild week for them to, but in a happier way thankfully, so I left it at that. I'm glad they were having a good week, even if it meant I had to deal with crazy students. At least they were being a good kind of crazy. I was about to walk into the 5th grade classroom, when I noticed something black in the front of the classroom.

I'm so thankful for my observation skills.

So fucking thankful.

Because what I saw was what looked like a fake semiautomatic gun.

I want it also to be said, I was already aware that Korea has a very strict gun policy.

And it was these two things that kept me from being too triggered at the situation I was about to find myself.

When one of my sweetest kids held the gun up, pointed it directly at my chest, and told me I was under arrest, it took a lot for me to not let my fear show. I don't know if my students noticed that for a second, I felt the color drain from my face. I felt my heart pick up speed. I felt my legs about to give out. I felt my lungs about to spaz out.

And this was me reacting to what I knew was a fake gun.

These children do not know what it's like to be black in America. They don't know what it's like to hear about shootings.

They just don't know.

Which was what helped me keep it together.

I kept telling myself over and over, 'they don't know'  as I tried to teach them about phone call etiquette and not looking at the spot where the "gun" was placed. It was probably one of the hardest classes I had to push through thus far.

I know that moments like these are great moments to educate someone. And while I would've loved for them to know and realize what their actions can produce in someone, what I just went through, I was also aware that my head-space wasn't in the right place for it.

How can I tell my precious students that the police scare me? That guns scare me? That people who look like me struggle simply because of our skin color? That school shootings are a fact of life and not a game, back home?

How can I talk about a topic that gives me a panic attack?

Look, I know I've been complaining about the cold (who knew I'd miss central heating), but if it's one thing I'm thankful for during this cold time its the snow. Looking outside the windows at the gently falling snow has been my one of my main solaces during this time of emotional upheaval.

It allows me to focus my thoughts and calm my overworked heart.

I mentioned in my last post about gun violence (The Aftereffects), that I'm working through my feelings. I figured out just what those feelings are; after today's reaction, it was pretty easy to figure out.

I'm afraid of guns.

I'm afraid of how permanent they are. I mean...with a single twitch, I can lose someone dear to me, my loved ones could lose me. (Good lord that sounds selfishly Toya-centered!) So many beautiful souls have been lost to us already, and as it stands, there's no stopping the shooting back home. As of today, there have been roughly 329 shootings in 2018.

We always think...'that wouldn't happen to me', or 'that doesn't happen around here', but guys. You never really know.

#SaveOurToya

Can You Not?

I feel like it's been years since I've written a happy post. Which is preposterous...this blog came alive in May. It's barely been six months. And yet...this feeling persists.

So, what brings me back for my latest update?

Christmas carols.

I bet you didn't see that coming.

And yes, I know, Thanksgiving hasn't come and gone yet, but here we are anyways.

My school is hosting a festival of sorts on 11/22 (yes, Thanksgiving day), and I was asked last month to get the kids ready to sing an English song.

My reaction: Um...okay? What song?

Now, take a moment to be in my shoes. It's been some odd years since I was in Elementary School. But, I'm pretty sure we never had a festival. Maybe a Christmas pageant, but even then...it was all done in one language that a majority (if not all) of the students spoke. I was so lost on what the school was looking for.

Teacher mode flipped on and I decided that I wanted to find an easy song that also ties in the season (making decisions like a boss). I landed on, 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas'. Side note, did you know it was considered a Thanksgiving song back in the day? I didn't. And! There was a readily available ESL version. I was gonna have them all do an A Cappella version, like Christmas carolers. Being able to slide in a cultural piece, beautiful, right?

Well, I was told they needed to do more.

Brah...you want them to do two English songs?

And you want them to do Let It Go?

Somehow, I was able to scale the song back to them only having to sing a 30-second part of the song. The "easiest" part I could find.

They got it down with some struggles, but its good. Timing may be off a smidge, but they know the words.

Phew. Okay, easy breathing.

They're still struggling with We Wish You a Merry Christmas, but they're getting the hang of it. Slowly.

Mostly okay breathing, then.

This morning, when we did a final rehearsal, I was so proud of them. I sat in front of them and mouthed the words, but they did it! The whole way through without me having to fix pronunciation. Word order is still a bit off, but the pronunciation was good!

I even did a little happy squeal afterwards. That's how happy I was!

However...

The VP didn't approve...not completely. She wants to add music or a piano in the background to the song. And her reasoning, 'the timing is off'.

Honey, it's not the timing. It's their confidence in the words. It's an English song with words like 'figgy pudding' and 'good tidings' in it. And now, when they're finally getting the hang of the song, you want to introduce a piano to freak them out even more?

No.

Also, I told her I wanted to do the song in a traditional caroling way. Aka, no music, just voices.

But instead of respecting the culture that I'm introducing to your students, school, community, you'd rather add a piano because it'll make you feel better?

No.

I've recognized that for many people at the school, saying 'no' is hard to do. And sometimes, it is for me too, not wanting to disrespect them, their teaching experience, and their culture. All I ask, is the same be afforded to me.

And when it isn't...in what language do you want me to say 'no'. I got five I can give you, right here, right now.

Here's the other thing...why am I constantly told, "respect the Korean culture", when the same is not told to the workplace that has requested a foreign teacher to respect the foreigner's culture? Do they not get a training session on what to do when you have a foreigner in your office?

Perhaps this is my own privilege/entitlement coming out right now...I definitely can see how foreigners back home can feel intimidated, startled, uncomfortable, and coerced with a few words. This is definitely a learning moment for myself for when I get back home.

Moral of the story, I'm irritated. This isn't the first time I've been put in an uncomfortable situation due to cultural differences, but it is the first time I've had enough and won't let it slide.

#SaveOurToya

Curious whether I'm about to burn a bridge with the VP or not, hit the 'FOLLOW' button to find out!