To say the least, South Korea so far has been a rollercoaster -from the unwanted touches my braids feel, to the sea of eyes attracted to the skin I’m in, dietary restrictions and more- yes, rollercoaster, indeed. But atlas, a new day- a week- has come.

While walking to school, I turn up the volume of my headphones as the words of my favorite rapper, Tupac Shakur, boom into my ear: “You might be deep in this game, but you got the rules missing…”

It is week three at Jiguchon International School and we’re all excited for our new students. This week, we would be working with the non- fluent Korean speaking class- what exactly that entailed, I had no idea, but with two weeks in (kinda deep in this game of teaching), becoming more comfortable speaking Korean and a detailed lesson plan for that day, I thought I was set- that we were set.

After introducing ourselves in our respective languages, class began. I gravitated towards a table with two kids- Forjune and Eunice. Forjune and Eunice smiled warmly at me and greeted me again in Korean and I was so happy- “yes, they don’t look Korean (like me) but they speak the language (also like me). We can communicate.” My conversation with Eunice- while short, her English was amazing. But, within minutes of having a basic conversation with Jun- as we both are the two darkest in the class, asking where her parents are from- it became clear that she didn’t know a lot of Korean. “She doesn’t know much Korean, okay. She doesn’t speak Chinese, okay. She doesn’t know much English, okay. She speaks Thai, okay that’s cool. Wait, I don’t speak Thai. How do I communicate with her?” These thoughts later translated in my head- how do I communicate with my kids who do not know Korean or English?

These thoughts circled in my head throughout my first day interacting with her and teaching the class as a whole.

After struggling to effectively communicate all my questions and thoughts to her, it was finally break time. I noticed that Jun and Eunice kept quiet and stayed to themselves. While Jae-won and Joshua chased each other, Lisa played piano, Cassie and Hanly played Cat’s Cradle there sat Jun with her head down, a wave of calamity in the backdrop of the classroom chaos, reading a Thai book and Eunice observing the classroom.

Maybe they’re shy or maybe they feel uncomfortable not being able to confide in a friend in Thai/ Tagalog like how the Chinese speaking students can confide and laugh with each other. Either way I wanted to talk to them. Using Korean, I asked Jun how to say hello in Thai. Then her face lit up and for the next 5ish minutes she became the teacher and I the student. Sawadikap, hello: we sat side by side, laughing, and me repeating Sawadikap, then teacher, mom, and dad in Thai.

After that, I began drawing on a paper and they would look at my art and I,  sharing giggles and smiles. Then they started drawing, looking at each other’s drawings, enjoying each other’s company- a conversation without verbal language. Eventually, I had to whip out Google Translate but I enjoyed learning from Forjune and watching them interact.

Later that week, when breaking into small groups, we learned about their dreams. Eunice wants to become a businesswoman and wants to work very hard in school. Forjune wants to become a translator-from Thai to Korean to English and all the possible combinations there are.  

And that more than teaching them English for one week resonates with me.  The temporary goal, the task at hand is to teach them English, but as a team we want to teach and encourage them to use their other skills- to sing, to draw, to find joy in the company of their peers etc and foster the mentality of “yes I can.” And there doesn’t have to be a language for that. What we live and endure, what forces us into silence or writing, what we hold only as elusive memory sometimes is only a frustration of seeing others- their differences- physical, linguistic etc and feeling as if they don’t see us.

Language is not the only form of communication even though we tend to engage with one another in a manner that suggests it is the absolute way to communicate. Teaching has taught us to  keep ten toes down. Because regardless of how many weeks we have been at Jiguchon, we don’t know the rules to teaching- at least not all of them. As a team, we hope that if our kids can’t find comfort in seeing the diversity (ethnically and linguistically) of their teachers, we hope that they at least find comfort in enjoying each other’s company- whatever that may entail: growth matters most.

Just as we’re beginning to get the hang of this- just a tiny bit-  our last week at this school rolls in. Week four will be bittersweet for sure.