By Yoon Sung-min

As a child, I grew up in a small farming village in South Korea, far from any urban city.

My parents were peasants who struggled to make ends meet with six children. As tenant farmers, they labored long hours without adequate compensation. They toiled arduously to feed my siblings and me but they did not have the time or resources to provide us the attention and nurturing we needed.

My parents did not receive any formal education, and they did not see the value of education in the midst of their life of daily hard labor. I was never encouraged to study or work hard to achieve academic excellence.

After school, I did not worry about doing my homework and just played outside until late at night or helped my parents in the rice fields. Mountains and creeks were my playgrounds, and wild animals were my only playmates. Because I did not study or complete my homework, my grades were below average and no attention was given to me by any of my teachers.

In my rural elementary school, being the second smallest child in the whole class, I was always assigned a seat in the first row and the taller students sat in rows behind me.

One day I was sitting in my fourth-grade class crowded, with 55 students, and watching my teacher, Lim Chang-ho, teach a subject in front of the class. To me, a small boy, Mr. Lim appeared to be the tallest person I had ever seen. He was over six feet tall and was handsome in a fancy suit. He was known by everyone for his kind smile and gentle manner.

In the middle of teaching, Mr. Lim dropped his blackboard eraser. Since he was so tall, it took him more effort to reach down and pick it up. Reflexively, I quickly picked it up for him because it was easier for me since I was small. Mr. Lim immediately recognized my assistance, and he responded by giving me his trademark gentle smile.

From that moment on, I began picking up erasers and cleaning the blackboard for Mr. Lim. I was cognizant of his acknowledgment and praise, which I had never received before from teachers who usually only recognized children from rich families, students who acted as class presidents or vice presidents or students with excellent academic performances.

Several weeks later, when my classmates were not listening to the teacher and were making noise at the back of the room, I turned around and shouted, ``Be quiet!” My classmates knew that Mr. Lim was too gentle to resort to corporal punishment. I realized that reprimanding the other students was a class president or vice president’s responsibility, not mine. I worried that the teacher would correct my presumptuous behavior and tell me not to disturb the whole class.

But I was wrong. Instead Mr. Lim smiled at me and appointed me as a ``section leader,” a position he created at that moment for me. He asked me to take a charge of my row. I did not shout at my classmates again, but I felt pride in myself for being appointed to the position and for receiving recognition from the teacher.

Mr. Lim gave his full attention not only to me but also to all the students in his care. He was truly a good teacher and a person with character and integrity. But even more importantly, I remember him as a special person who recognized my potential and helped me see for the first time my own potential and value. Both positive and negative behavior of mine was responded to with understanding, acknowledgment, and encouragement.

He was the first teacher who attempted to relate to and accept my true self even though I was undistinguished. Before then, I was neither motivated to study nor go to school. My frequent lateness and truancy were commented on in my report cards. Mr. Lim’s intervention rekindled my hidden potential and awoke my desire for recognition and bolstered my self-esteem.

My life that had once felt like a conundrum full of deadlocks, questions, wariness, and a dispirited mind had been touched by someone who opened the door and led me to a new self. I no longer saw myself as a small, shabby, and despondent boy but as a respected and valued person. This elevated self-esteem and self-worthiness allowed me to bravely face challenges and think about things more positively.

Many years later, I became the first person in my entire extended family that went to college although my parents objected, and I challenged myself to come to New York to earn my master’s in social work. I currently work two full-time jobs while pursuing my doctorate at the University of Pennsylvania. I believe Mr. Lim’s intervention into my behavior ignited the light that led to my current success.

Research proves that caring teachers impact students’ ability to connect with school and learning. Speaking on the school violence and bullying issues in South Korea, I argue that we must establish caring relationships between teachers and their students. Please keep in mind that we all thrive on positive relationships.

The writer is an assistant project director at The Child Center of New York Asian Clinic and the senior director of the YOON behavioral health Center in New York. Contact him at sungyoon@sp2.upenn.edu.