A Tragedy

I've struggled with the decision to blog about the following story.  I'm not thrilled with the idea of writing two negative posts a row.  However, excluding this story from my blog would be an injustice, as it would fail to accurately portray my life in Korea.  From the moment that I decided to start a blog, I committed myself to telling the whole story, not just the good parts; but also, the struggles and challenges along the way.  Frankly, with my optimistic personality, I didn't expect that I'd have a lot of negative stuff to talk about.  But today's story has no positive spin or happy ending.  It's a true tragedy that speaks volumes about Korea's broken educational system.

Monday morning started like any other.  I sent a couple emails, edited my PowerPoint, and mentally rehearsed my new lesson.  After the second period bell rang, I made my way to the classroom and helped students review vocabulary words for next week's final exam.  Midway through the lesson, I noticed my co-teacher slip out of the room to take a phone call.  After the class ended, she approached me and with a somber tone, stated, "Danielle, I have some terrible news."  The rest of the conversation was a blur.  The only thing I remember was the takeaway message: one of our students committed suicide over the weekend.

No amount of training or teaching experience can prepare you for this moment.  Although I've had 3 days for the news to sink in, I am still in a state of utter shock and disbelief.  Everyone grapples with grief and turmoil, but when does it get to a point, in which one doesn't want to live any longer.  How does one lose all hope and motivation to continue living?  At what point, is death the only remaining solution?  This is something that I cannot make sense of or try to interpret in a rational way.  But there is much to learn from this tragic tale.

Suicide is no longer just a worrisome issue in Korea, it has become a national epidemic.  The suicide rate in Korea has doubled in the past 10 years and it's over five times greater than it was 20 years ago.  Korea has recently surpassed Japan as having the highest suicide rate of all 30 OECD countries.  Statistics show that, on average, 40 people in Korea take their lives every day.  To read more about this issue, please check out this BBC article:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-pacific-15331921.

Before starting my grant year, I did a lot of research on Korean culture and demographics.  The high suicide rate was something that I definitely picked up on but didn't really think much about.  I assumed, and perhaps naively so, that it would never personally affect me.  A month ago, my host mother mentioned how someone in my host brother's middle school committed suicide after he received his midterm grades.  That was definitely startling.  But this is an entirely different ballpark.  Someone that I taught every week and passed in the hallways on a regular basis ended her life.  This is a reality that I still cannot fully accept or understand.

Admittedly, when my co-teacher told me the name of the victim, I didn't know which student it was.  With nearly 700 students, there's simply no way for me to have a close, personal relationship with all of them.  However, when I walked into her class, there was a visibly empty seat off to the side of the room.  Immediately, I could recall a face that used to sit there, a face that will never be seen again.  In the middle of teaching, I almost broke down in tears.  How could someone so young take matters into her own hands and choose such a devastating fate?

The alleged reason for her suicide are two-fold.  First, she was overwhelmed by the intense pressure to succeed in school.  Final exams are next week and it's likely that she just felt so behind that she couldn't take it anymore.  Perhaps she felt like a complete failure because she couldn't meet her personal expectations and that of her parents.  Being that it's so demanding, Korea's education system fosters these feelings of inadequacy and incompetence.  Even my near fluent students regularly apologize for their "terrible" English and never feel satisfied with their "poor, disappointing" grades.  Everything is riding on their test scores.  For high school students, there's no alternative measure to gauge one's merit and worth.

Second, this student was the victim of vicious bullying.  From what I can tell, she was a quiet, introverted girl who always did what she was told and never drew much attention to herself.  Yet behind closed doors, she was constantly teased and picked on by her peers.  Bullying is becoming a huge problem in Korean schools.  Unfortunately, it's not being given the attention and media coverage that it deserves.  In America, bullying is recognized as a serious issue and there's a lot of publicity and work being done to pass anti-bullying legislation at both the state and federal level.  However, that is certainly not the case in Korea.

Similar to suicide and mental illnesses, bullying is a taboo issue that isn't talked about because it would cause people to "lose face" within this highly collectivist culture.  Rather than addressing this issue head-on with workshops and open forums, it remains in the private sphere, seemingly ignored and overlooked.  Knowing that Korea is such a strongly collectivist nation, I imagined that people would come together as a community and acknowledge this tragic loss.  However, there's was no school-wide announcement, no candlelight vigil, not even a moment of silence to honor the life of this student.  Instead, her death leaves behind many unanswered questions and an eerie sense of tension in the air.

From my observations, it seems that Korean schools aren't equipped with the faculty and resources to handle these sort of problems.  In America, guidance counselors play a significant role in every high school student's life.  They are the ones a student goes to when they have personal problems, difficulties at home, or just need someone to vent to.  While counselors exist in Korean high schools, their sole job is to assist with the college application process.  Therefore, the responsibility of dealing with personal issues inevitably falls to homeroom teachers, many of whom haven't had the training to deal with such urgent matters.

The victim's homeroom teacher just happens to be a fellow 1st grade English teacher, with whom I am very close with.  She is undoubtedly taking this tragedy the hardest out of anyone.  She is suffering from immense guilt and remorse because in her eyes, she is responsible for the well-being of all her students.  All the teachers at my school seem aware that bullying occurs on some level.  Yet, I doubt she knew how bad this situation actually was.  If she had known how much the victim was suffering, I'm confident that she would've intervened and actively worked towards a solution.  Unfortunately, this case flew under the radar and went undetected.

This situation is difficult to deal with on many levels.  For me, it is most shocking that this tragedy isn't being discussed on a school-wide basis.  If this occurred in America, there's likely be an assembly, where students could gather together to honor the victim's life and make peace with the situation.  But at the same time, I understand the school's decision not to publicly acknowledge this tragedy.  Doing so would just glamorize the situation and draw undue attention.  In addition, it may encourage other students to follow in her example.  Copycat suicides are a common phenomenon and being that it's exam season, the school certainly doesn't want to take that risk.

Coming from a country where we are constantly told to "talk out" our problems, I am unsure of how best to cope with this devastating reality.  If I were in America, I wouldn't hesitate to send flowers and express my condolences to the victim's family.  However, in this situation, doing so may be more destructive than sentimental.  In Korea, the concept of "saving face" is so important and intervening in the grieving process may only bring shame to her loved ones.  It's times like this when I am most unsure of how to navigate Korea's cultural differences.

There are many lessons that we can extrapolate from this tragic story.  First, there needs to be a fundamental reevaluation of Korea's education system.  While its unmatched rigor and academic standards have catapulted Korea to the top of world education rankings, it has come at a great cost.  Students are under an exorbitant amount of stress and this unhealthy amount of pressure is, at least in part, to blame for Korea's high teenage suicide rate.  In addition, the media and those in power must start to acknowledge bullying as a systemic problem.  What happened in this case was an utter tragedy and no other student should have to endure such brutal victimization. 

Over the past couple days, I've learned that job here is much more far-reaching than I ever imagined.  Even on days when I question my role in Korea, I need to remember that I'm a part of my students lives and, no matter how small it may be, I'm influencing them on some level.   At this point, the most important thing I can do is stay strong and support my students, especially the victim's friends.  For me, that means being extra cheery in the classroom, cracking jokes to make them smile, and making an effort to give individual attention to each student. 

Between this tragedy and final exams around the corner, the morale at my school is definitely at an all-time low.  Nonetheless, I hope that things start to normalize soon.  Until then, I'll just be taking it one day at a time...