Today was my last day of teaching as a Fulbright ETA and at Gakri Middle School. I feel so grateful for this experience–trying to process the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next. Thank you, Ochang. Thank you Korea. Most of all, thank you students. You’re kind, enthusiastic, and unforgettable.
On July 6, 2013, I arrived at Incheon International Airport in Seoul with 80 other Fulbright English Teaching Assistants to begin our grant year. Today marks one-year of my being abroad and on the Fulbright grant.
For me, this is an important milestone. When I was a first-year in college, I made up my mind that I wanted to spend a significant portion of time outside of the United States. While significant means many different things to different people, for me I figured that after having only spent about 2 weeks at a time out of the country before, it should be longer than that. My junior year, I had the opportunity to study abroad in China for a little less than four months and, while challenging, that experience convinced me that I needed more. From that point onward, I decided that I wanted to spend at least a full year without returning to the United States. It seemed like both a personal challenge and a necessary experience as someone who hopes to make an international impact throughout their life.
Inevitably, reaching this milestone makes me reflect back on the person I was and the person I am. It’s cliché to say that this year has changed me; I think that anyone anywhere would say his/her/their first year out of college was a year of change. What I can say is that I feel, more than anything else, grateful. I’m grateful that Fulbright gave me the opportunity to live abroad, to entrust me with the minds of 100s of students, and to connect me with some of the best friends and colleagues I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m thankful for my introduction to tteokbokki, the Seoul subway system, and a culture of saving face. Even towards the end of the year, I’m still having new experiences, from going to my first teacher’s dinner last week to getting juice with a faculty member I hadn’t previously known. This year abroad is less about whether or not I’ve changed and more about what kind of change I’ve experienced.
In my blog post on departure day last year, I posed some apprehensive questions:
1. As someone who considers himself a bit foreign-language challenged, just how am I going to learn Korean?
Honestly, I can say that after barely passing the language class during Orientation, I am pleased with my language progress. While studying Korean wasn’t a key aspect of my grant year, I feel comfortable interacting in service situations (transportation, restaurants) and I can use enough Korean combined with pantomime to get through conversations. I’m definitely still a beginner, but that I can now read Korean language and operate comfortably is a real change from when I first arrived.
2. How am I going to manage to come up with lesson plans for my students every week and teach them multiple times?
Somewhat luckily, I was placed into a school with a textbook, so for many weeks my lesson plans were more about finding ways to ingrain the proscribed content into their heads rather than come up with what to teach. That content structure also made it easy to think of things to teach when I did have the rare textbook-free week, covering everything from American high school life to nutrition.
Teaching the same lesson over and over again remains one of the most difficult parts of teaching. Keeping yourself excited about a lesson, especially when it’s the 20th time doing it, can be hard. Looking to the kids for inspiration always helps; their sense of humor kept me going!
3. What’s it going to be like being so far from friends and family for this long?
This past year has simultaneously felt very fast and slow at the same time. There were moments where being away from my parents, friends, and girlfriend made me feel like I would never see them again. At other times, I was so busy that it felt as if I hadn’t been away for long at all. I also feel like I didn’t always do the best job keeping up with friends and their lives. I know that I have a lot of work to do when I get back to the States. Thanks to Skype, KakaoTalk, LINE, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and endless other technological advances, I didn’t feel quite as disconnected as I thought I might have. It’s strange being gone for a year, but it also reinforces my belief that today we never have to say “goodbye,” but rather just “see you when I see you!” The 21st century is a great time to be living abroad.
Today, as I write this post, 76 new ETAs are at Jungwon University in Goesan for Orientation fighting jet lag and preparing to begin their adventure in Korea. As they begin, I have 10 days left in my grant and only 4 at my school. This Friday, I’ll have the opportunity to meet and present to the new grantees on teaching with a Korean English textbook. I can’t wait to see them after being in their seats (shout out to whatever new ETA gets #61!)
On the Fourth of July, I hung out with some of my friends at the Fulbright Building in Seoul. Being there, I can say it was one of the best ways I can think of to celebrate America’s birthday and my first anniversary living outside of the USA.
Happy 1st Anniversary Korea. Happy Birthday America. You’re both pretty great.
For those celebrating, Happy Easter!
I don’t consider myself very religious, but at home my family celebrates Easter with church and a big brunch that is always a great time. My “celebration” this year is far from typical—after waking up very early to a Korean breakfast of rice, side dishes, and tofu stew, my host family headed to a wedding out-of-town. Instead of brunch, I found myself trudging out of the apartment earlier today in search of some tteokbokki (spicy rice cakes). My cravings satisfied, I’m now writing and lesson planning in Ochang’s Starbucks. While I feel like I’m cheating on Korea choosing Starbucks over one of the four or five Korean coffee shops immediately adjacent, this is the only one that offers actual brewed coffee in lieu of the Americano.
Last post I was getting ready to head off to Jeju Island for the Spring Fulbright Conference. It was an absolute whirlwind of a weekend, marked by lots of presentations, successful workshops, and catching up with friends. Unfortunately, the logistics of the conference were as such that we didn’t get much time to see the actual Jeju landscape. Besides a tour on Sunday, we were in the conference room almost the entire weekend. To add insult to injury, the room had giant windows in the back that view the beach, but the curtains were drawn for all of our sessions. Nevertheless, the island was beautiful.
The conference itself was quite different from the Fall conference—there was far less of a focus on teaching tips and many sessions focused on end-of-grant logistics: how to keep our schools happy, when our final gala dinner would be, and what to plan for the departure process. A few highlights from conference:
-A video put together by the Fulbright office staff of former grantees saying what they missed most about Korea.
-Jaunting around Jeju with our program coordinator, the Office’s executive assistant, and about 45 other grantees.
-Leading a group discussion on Fulbright and non-teaching career paths with two fellow grantees to large groups of ETAs.
-Cramming a bunch of ETAs in pajamas into one hotel room for a late-night pizza party.
Overall, it was a weekend of positive people doing positive things. However, Jeju conference was also a significant reminder that my time here is limited.
On July 4, 2013, I started my Fulbright journey to South Korea, flying from Washington, DC to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Seoul, and finally a bus from Incheon airport to Jungwon University in Goesan. On July 16, 2014, my grant year officially ends.
87 days. That’s how long I have to make a direct impact on my host family, Gakri Middle School, and overall community. I’m not sure if it’s something about springtime, or that I’m a more seasoned teacher (or both!), but the last few weeks my students have been particularly wonderful. Last Monday, I came down with a nasty cold; my voice was pretty much gone and I couldn’t sleep. During one of my 3rd grade (freshmen year of high school in America) boys’ classes, one student in the back row silently held up a makeshift sign:
“BE HAPPY JON ☺”
Moments like that, while irrelevant to my kids improving their English, are what make this experience. I know that even though I feel ready for the next opportunity ahead, it’s not going to be easy to leave this community and the relationships that are gaining strength daily.
In preparation, I’ve been thinking more about my personal goals for school life—what kind of legacy do I want to leave with my students? Leaving something tangible isn’t so much an option, so that legacy must be what stays in the minds of my students. Of course, I want some of that to be an improved command of the English language. On the cultural side, I also want some of that to be positive impressions of Americans and foreigners. Something that one of my co-teachers said the other day has stuck with me, though—he said that I am an “actor” teacher. He said that when my students interact with me in class, they usually laugh and look entertained.
There are some who think that there is no need to make education entertaining—I remember an instance of Noam Chomsky defending his unenthusiastic style of public speaking. However, for me, the teachers that I remember best were the ones that had enthusiasm and made learning an entertaining venture. While I may not remember all of the content that they taught, it was those teachers (thank you, Mr. Alleyne from WES, among others), who cultivated my love for learning and curiosity. The Korean education system is notorious for both its success and its brutality—I want to leave my students with the view that education, and specifically learning English, is entertaining and, ultimately, fun. I like to use a lot of physical comedy, big gestures, and facial expressions. Some of my students may never gain a deep interest in English, but at least they can associate their middle school conversation class as a positive experience.
So, 87 days. A few of my Fulbright friends react pretty negatively when I bring up this countdown. In the end, though, it’s not a demonstration of our limited time—it’s a time for uninhibited possibilities.
(On a not so happy note, I’d ask everyone to keep the students and families affected by the ferry sinking tragedy in Korea this past week in your thoughts. As a teacher in Korea, I can’t imagine if that were my students. I am not exaggerating when I say that the entire country is in mourning. Korea needs hope and support right now from all of us around the world.)
I often write about my experiences in Korea, especially the more remarkable or personally noteworthy moments. However, I don’t often share the realities of life as an ETA—my daily routines, work, and recreation. It’s important to realize that although there are English Teaching Assistantships around the world under the Fulbright moniker, each is administered independently by one of 50 bi-national commissions or, in countries with a smaller program presence, by the Public Affairs section of the respective U.S. Embassy. In Korea, the Korean-American Educational Commission coordinates all aspects of the Fulbright Program in concert with the individual provincial offices of education. Across the world, we may all be Fulbright ETAs, but in practice that makes for very different experiences.
For Fulbright Korea, the ETA program is split into two groups: Elementary English Teaching Assistant, which means that you work in an elementary school, and Secondary English Teaching Assistant, which means that you work in either a high or middle school–I teach in a middle school.
While Fulbright refers to us as English Teaching “Assistants,” most of us in Korea, including myself, are in charge of our own classrooms. In most cases, we have Korean co-teachers, but they are mostly there to observe and step in if something gets out of hand—this, of course, depends on the school.
What follows is a timeline of my average day at school, though it often changes!
7:00 am – My alarm goes off. If that doesn’t get me out of bed, my host mom’s struggle to get my brother up usually does.
7:10 am – My host mother, brother, sister, and I eat breakfast. On some days, it’s as extensive as rice, kimchi, and dok-mandu-guk, a kind of rice cake and dumpling soup, while others it’s as simple as a few steamed rice cakes served with sesame oil to dip them in.
7:40 am – My host mother drives my host sister to her high school, which is on the other side of town. My host brother usually tries to sneak in a few extra minutes of sleep.
8:00-8:15 am – I go through my lessons one more time after getting dressed, making sure that all of my PowerPoints, worksheets, and other documents are on my flash drive and ready to go.
8:15 am – My host brother and I leave for school. High-rise apartment buildings surround Gakri Middle School and I live in one them. It’s just a short 5-minute walk to school—I’m lucky in this regard, as I probably have one of the shortest commutes of any ETA in Korea.
8:20ish – I join the sea of students and teachers heading towards the school gates. Once inside, I change into my slippers (we don’t wear shoes inside school) and head up to my office in the fourth floor gyomushil (teacher’s room). I share this teacher’s room with five other teachers, one of which is my Fulbright co-teacher.
8:30 am – Students at Gakri Middle School have 30 minutes of homeroom. During this time, I make my final preparations for the day, usually checking messages and printing out worksheets, as well as setting up the projector in my classroom.
9:00 am-12:30 pm – Now come the first four periods of the day, each running 45 minutes long with a ten-minute break in between. I generally teach 4 to 6 classes a day, so how busy my morning is varies. My classes range from between 15 to 35 students, while I act as the primary instructor. My pedagogy varies from using PowerPoint, worksheets, activities, and, of course, playing lots of games to keep my students speaking English. If I’m not teaching, I’m either setting up my classroom for my next group of students or in the gyomushil. If I have all my lessons planned, I might work on a blog post, talk with my co-teachers, do some reading or studying, or catch up with fellow ETAs online. I usually drink an absurd amount of green tea or Korean instant coffee during this time, too.
12:30-1:45 pm – Lunch! Compared to the 30-minutes I had during middle and high school, the 1-hour and 15 minutes of freedom that students have hear seems insane. Then again, this is the only free time that the students have. All members of the school community eat in one large cafeteria, although the teachers get a separate food line from the students. The meal generally consists of rice, kimchi, some kind of meat, pickled vegetable, stew, and sometimes dessert. Taste depends on the day, but generally, it’s pretty good and much more varied than American school lunches. Teachers all eat together, although it’s a time more for eating than conversation.
After eating, students usually go play outside. Occasionally I’ll play basketball with some of my students, practice volleyball with the teachers (do not underestimate the abilities of 60-year old Korean men!), and walk around campus interacting with students.
1:45-3:25 pm – Two more class periods!
3:25-3:45 pm – Cleaning time! At Korean schools, the students act as the janitors. During this 20-minute period, students clean the classrooms, bathrooms, and teacher’s rooms. It was strange at first, but now I’m surprisingly used to it. Moreover, it gives some ownership of the school to the students.
3:45-4:30 pm – Final regular class period of the day!
5:00 pm – If there’s no after-school class, I head back to my home stay. On Thursdays, I stop by the market in the apartment complex and chat with students or buy them some snacks, ranging from tteokbokki (spicy rice cakes) to bungeoppang (fish-shaped bread filled with red bean paste).
7:30 pm – Dinner with my host family, although usually my host sister is still at school studying. My host father lives in Seoul during the week because of his job.
8:30 pm-12:30 am – Downtime. Studying Korean, planning lessons reading, skyping with friends and family back home, editing and reviewing pieces for the Fulbright Korea Infusion (the official publication of the Korean-American Educational Commission), blogging, researching graduate programs, and, when the kids aren’t studying, hanging out with my host family!
12:30 am – Finally time to get some sleep. Meanwhile, my host siblings are generally studying until 1 or 2 am!
Obviously, even with my details, this is just one possible schedule. Korean schools are notorious for last-minute schedule changes, so ETAs have to be flexible.
On weekends, I often travel to Seoul, which is only 1 ½ hours by bus, go hiking in the foothills nearby, meet up with other Fulbright fellows across Korea, and occasionally volunteer with an orphanage in nearby Cheongju.
While there are good days and bad days, ultimately daily life at a Fulbright ETA in Korea is a rewarding and challenging experience. We stay busy!
Do you have questions about being an ETA in Korea? Post in the comments!