Kim Man-gon's Educational Commentary I'm Sorry I Couldn't Teach You That Back Then

It feels like a kind of trauma. "How dare a teacher talk back like that?" "Want to get slashed with a knife?" "Should I hit your head with a golf club?" "Please delay pregnancy and marriage because it would affect my child." "You're unmarried, right? You'll understand once you give birth." "What was your College Entrance Exam score?" "If we come late to school, we'll be late for cram school. Please don't make us do cleaning." These are words I saw in an article serialized in some newspaper. Putting aside everything else, I don't think I'll ever forget "How dare a teacher..."

A long time ago, during the second military regime, the martial law commander of that region came to school to transfer his son. His aide asked whether he should remove his military boots. Thinking of the children, I said yes. I felt a bit anxious, but fortunately the commander quickly took off his boots. I even had the silly thought of 'so there won't be any aftermath.'

Teachers lived by the principle that regardless of social status, they had enough honor and pride in the fact that people entrusted them with raising their children, so they shouldn't appear hungry just because the salary was low.

However, when dealing with university professors, I couldn't shake off a feeling of lowered self-esteem. It was because of what seemed like a societal norm in our country—that university professors sit in the front row, followed by high school teachers, then elementary school teachers, and kindergarten teachers in the back.

That school had many children of university professors. When I became a first-grade homeroom teacher, although it seemed to be just on the surface, the parents of such children were also docile, but one child, C, was different. (This is just one of various cases. There were plenty of good situations.) Both of C's parents were professors. They said not to bother teaching, just call and tell them only about the problems their child got wrong, and there's no need to intervene in the child's behavior…

There was nothing to teach. The child already read Korean fluently and could do basic calculations, so there was no point in teaching anything based on their 'notification.' However, the child was extremely self-centered. The child couldn't share at all and they fought frequently over such things. At the end of first grade, I wrote this in the 'comprehensive remarks' section of the report card: "C made an effort to learn and practice considering and helping friends day by day."

I couldn't write "C fights all the time. He doesn't understand others' circumstances or how to compromise." When I see such expressions become jokes in TV programs like "TV Carries Love," I felt thankful that such a record might not be made public out of nowhere. If I had written it directly, those noble professor couple, whose only goal was their son getting test questions right, would not have been pleased, and even with such circumlocution, if they wanted to, they seemed like they could guess the homeroom teacher's intention and comply with that request.

I never knew how C developed. The world kept changing, and there were few cases where I could understand how children turned out. However, C came by on his own initiative years later and showed me what he was doing. I was bursting with curiosity wondering how he had changed, but alas! It was a 'visit empty-handed' after all. Right after entering, he proudly mentioned that he had a good position in Yeouido's securities sector, and as if to say he wouldn't reveal details, he didn't hand me even a business card.

Moreover, he hadn't come for a courtesy visit; he had a purpose. Over dinner that his former homeroom teacher was buying, he revealed the reason he came. "Twenty years have passed since my marriage, but my wife complains that I don't know how to be considerate. It's gotten worse over time, and now she doesn't miss a single day. The sentence you wrote in my report card keeps coming to mind."

Did he mistake me for thinking I could still teach and solve things as his homeroom teacher back then? His expression seemed to expect me to talk about some clever solution as he said he was at a loss about how to live. Since I bought him dinner too, it would be good if he said it can't be free, but I couldn't do that.

"I also get nagged," I turned it back with an awkward response and thought: 'Everything has its time. I'm sorry I couldn't have you engage in activities to care for and help others back then. Your parents did as they pleased, you suffered for a long time, and I'm now at the point of despair.' It seemed he thought even his former homeroom teacher couldn't help, as he never came back again. I wonder if those professor couple back then thought that knowledge alone was remarkable and that consideration and such were all useless?