'Fatigue school'

By Oh Jung-hun

I recently read the tragic news of a student who killed himself after long suffering school violence, leaving a note that emphasized the need for tighter surveillance on campuses.

I imagined the unfathomable bitterness he must have felt before committing suicide. I could hardly repress a whirling vortex of emotions, a mixture of pity and a guilty conscience. Sadder still is that teachers are either alienated from or callous to this grave problem. I mulled over why Korean schools witness such tragic events so frequently.

It reminded me of a book titled, “Fatigue Society," written by a Korean scholar living in Germany to criticize the abnormality of a Korea based on strict discipline and ruthless competition.

According to him, Korea is a “society of undue meritocracy," which forces each member to endure a never-ending race of productivity and efficiency, like a salesperson who must continue to rise to a higher rung by selling as much product as he or she can.

The consequent competition for survival results in extreme fatigue and indifference. Those who do not reach the goal regard themselves as the underdogs of society. Such an inferiority complex in turn drives people into a state of mental and physical exhaustion.

The winners are not much happier, as they suffer the intensity of a similar pressure not to be overtaken by others. This zero-sum game adds even more to accumulated fatigue.

Schools are a miniature of society. Most students, wiped out from after-school classes and constantly obsessed with high scores and being accepted to prestigious colleges, have no room in their minds to put themselves in another’s shoes. Predictably, they look upon their peers not as friends, but as rivals in this ferocious competition. There are few methods to release their stress in or around schools.

Students are likely to ostracize unusual schoolmates and to wield physical power against their rivals, as their minds have long been trained to measure by a single yardstick within standardized boundary.

The symptoms of “fatigue school” seem to get worse as time goes by. Sadomasochistic traits are hidden, but come to the surface as a nagging issue every now and then.

By booing, mocking or laughing at the weakness and inferiority of their schoolmates, these students feel catharsis by observing their victims’ mental and physical pain. Such students become sadistic at a young age. After inflicting unspeakable pain on their victims, according to some TV documentaries, the attackers have said their actions were simple pranks or signs of intimacy. Worse, some feel no guilt for how badly they have hurt their victims.

I'm worried how long this “fatigue school” phenomenon will remain on our campuses. Students suffering physical assault are hurt even more at heart. On the other hand, those who resist the established order then vent their hostility on whomever they regard as weaker than them.

Is it reasonable for us to attribute such misdeeds as only the individuals’ wrongdoing, however? It’s time to ponder how we can prevent this seemingly perennial vicious circle. As animals compete against each other within a small cage, their bestiality is intensified, so the students become more hostile under this cut-throat competition than when they are respected for their own personalities.

The structure and form of competition here is getting increasingly standardized and more ferocious than ever. If the intensity of this “fatigue school’’ phenomenon keeps increasing, students’ emotions will dry up in proportion. We adults need to shift the paradigm of dehumanized competition into a humanized mode that respects each person’s aptitude and excellence, as President Park Geun-hye emphasized recently. That is also the answer to solve school violence.

The writer is a high school teacher in Bucheon, Gyeonggi Province. His email address is dicapripk@hanmail.net.