Koreans Can Learn English
By Sonya Beard
It can be demoralizing. It can cause a sane person to lapse into head-banging convulsions. You'll search high and low for appropriate areas to place blame and then wonder if it's even worth the battle.
There's a constant war waging with native-English teachers trying to break through language barriers only to find themselves crashing.
Odds are stacked against many Korean students to become proficient in English. And helpless foreigners, who'd hoped to make a difference here, will unearth a school system designed to leave students behind.
The United States is certainly no model to follow when it comes to public education. It does have schools among the best in the world, which would be expected of a superpower. But some schools have so many problems they deserve an apology; the least of their concerns would be students mastering a second language. Still, the American system managed to get a few things right.
Foreign teachers must be amazed by the contradictions in the classroom. They've witnessed students whacked with yardsticks but permitted to sleep as if it were naptime and blow off class assignments as if they were optional. Korean teachers often justify:
``She's tired."
``He doesn't like English."
``She's shy."
``He's an athlete."
Truth is, Korean students don't have to learn anything, much less English. If they come to class, they don't have to stay awake. They can pass with a zero, and some do. What's ridiculous about social promotion is the system has only fooled itself by passing students who can't write their names in English by the time they're in middle school.
America holds students accountable for educational apathy ― they flunk them. If students were forced to repeat a grade, it would put a pep in their work ethic. Sure there's a stigma in society attached to flunking: No one wants to be 17 going on 18 in middle school. But there's also a stigma in the eyes of the world of being ranked near the bottom in English, considering the time and money invested (and wasted).
Korean English teachers must alter their teaching methods. They should speak less ``hangeul" and more English in their classes. Translating everything for students hinders their progress and gives them no reason to listen to native-English teachers.
And stop giving students the answers; give them a dictionary. Their brains won't explode if they're required to think. If they can figure out questions, they'll retain the information longer and be able to solve other problems.
When you see children learn something, light bulbs beam over their heads. Students cheer themselves like they've scored a winning field goal. Don't rob them of that rewarding experience.
On every level, students are being overlooked and neglected. Teaching to the middle would be fine if there weren't such disparities in aptitude. One curriculum does not fit all, but offering advanced and remedial classes would best accommodate everyone.
Academically excellent students deserve a class where they can be challenged as opposed to delaying the learning process for after-school academies. They should be inspired to compete on the same level of intelligence and passion as their peers.
And underachieving students, often excused by Korean teachers from all participation, deserve an equal opportunity to succeed. Mislabeling them as retarded may oversimplify struggles with attention deficit disorder, autism or dyslexia.
It could be that students never memorized the alphabet and were being promoted while being left further behind. And some kids are just lazy and have gotten away with it far too long. In any case, allowing students to fester in class for the duration of their education is unacceptable.
Learning specialists are trained to properly diagnose and assess the needs of students with mental challenges. Korea should recruit special-resource educators to address these more complicated issues that go beyond the expertise of classroom teachers.
I witnessed something miraculous recently during a test when middle school students knew their grades would actually count: Koreans can speak English. This revelation came on the eve of throwing up both hands and yanking out plugs of my hair.
One by one, students came to the front of the class and spoke. For the first time, I heard the voices of former mutes, the ones whom Korean teachers had written off and had instructed their foreign counterparts to do the same. I was so amazed to hear these ``lost causes" use clear, complete sentences that I began to suspect the last year of my life had been a cruel joke.
The scene reminded me of the film ``Awakenings" when encephalitis survivors responded to the experimental drug. The patients, who'd been catatonic for years, were running their mouths and reclaiming their pasts. It was a turning point well worth the wait. I saw Korean students ready to claim their futures, their once-blank expressions now showed signs of hope … finally they had awakened.
The writer is an American journalist, who spent last year in Korea training for her black belt. She teaches English to future diplomats. She can be reached at sonyabeardmail@gmail.com.