Although we had parted ways with the elementary students a couple weeks ago, we still visited Jiguchon School once a week to teach our middle schoolers. Having taught them for six weeks, they were the students we had taught for the longest, and on our last day this past Monday, the strength of the bonds we formed came into full light.

 

My initial impressions of the middle schoolers weren’t the best: I sensed a group of students that were eager to stir trouble and uneager to learn. But during the course of our time together, these students that I was once apprehensive about teaching became the ones I found it most difficult to say goodbye to.

 

My time with the middle schoolers was spent teaching five kids with the help of another teacher. There was Nayoung, who we called “the translator,” as it was her dream to become one. Although she stood out as the most proficient English speaker, it wasn’t sufficient enough for me to carry out instruction in English. As she didn’t speak Korean (her native language is Chinese) my biggest regret with her was not being able to teach her in a language she was comfortable with. Regardless, we were still able to bond over the blunders and funny moments in class. She taught me the Chinese concept of 敷衍 (fūyǎn), the Chinese equivalent to “white lies” in English. There was Jiyoung, a polyglot in the making who dreamed bigger than anyone else. Her bilingualism would come in handy when Nayoung needed translation from Korean to Chinese. We laughed over stories about boys and handsome actors, and the rumor that she had a secret admirer in the class. There was Changrim, in who I saw the most of myself. A boy absorbed completely by the video game Counter Strike. I was worried that his obsession would keep him from paying attention, but it turned out to be the complete opposite. We bonded over our enjoyment for the game, and I used it to get closer to him.

 

There was Soryeong, the aspiring model and singer who was equal parts wit and charm as she was intellect. Her willingness to open up to me about her personal life and the struggles she faced at home, as well as the eagerness she had for learning English were what helped me get through the first few rough weeks. Then there was Hyunju. Of the stories I had heard, hers was by far the most tragic. She was hesitant to open up to anyone, friend or teacher, and it was a big milestone for us when she told me her story.

 

Needless to say, these five middle schoolers and I developed a strong friendship over the course of six weeks. Rather than feel as though that they learned from a teacher, they told me that they felt as if they were learning from an older brother. When the time came to say goodbye, we were all given a few minutes to say some final words; knowing that I would break down in front of the kids if I said what I actually felt, I left them with a cool “see you later.”

 

And while I don’t feel that I’m ready to write down all the words I had intended to say, I do feel that I should say this. Whenever and wherever their paths take the middle schoolers, I will always be cheering you on.

 

화이팅!