
Life is not an exam
Each year, over half a million Korean students take college entrance exams. The examination prep ritual has been going on for decades and will commence this spring.
Like their brothers and sisters in other countries, there is a lot of pressure — I think too much — about these exams. Everyone wants to score well and earn a coveted spot at one of Korea’s leading colleges and universities. Families view these tests as the culmination of years of preparation and investment. Binge studying and single-minded devotion to the test task take precedence over everything.
However, these tests are correlated with a disturbing rise in and continued prevalence of suicide, low self-esteem and all manner of mental health concerns. Last year, three teens in Busan died by suicide due to college exam pressure. It is estimated that college exams are a major factor in suicides in Korea, which The Korea Times reported last June now stands at 7.9 per 100,000 people per year. The data may or may not be as available in other Asian countries, but the trend exists regionally as well.
Recently, I viewed the short film “The Pen” by Joram Jonah on YouTube. I encourage you to view it too. It is about a student in India who has failed his 10th-grade exam twice. He binge-studies, obsesses and cries about his predicament and pushes himself to the limit. His father berates him for taking a break to walk outside and draw. The teen is an accomplished artist, a clue to the movie’s resolution. His mother is devoted and exhorts him to eat and take care of himself.
The boy buys a pen that turns out to be magical. The magic arises from the boy writing the image of a smile on the pen cap and the fact that the pen bonds with him. We can view this as a kind of psychology or spirituality of life, happiness and humanity. However, the pen intervenes to help the boy’s parents find him hanging by a cord. He is saved and we later see him running an art exhibit as a more fulfilled person. Somehow, I wish the movie depicted the learning his attempted suicide evoked in his family, but that is left to the imagination.
The film ends with a statement that life is about more than academics or academic success. Amen to that. It doesn’t matter in the long run where one goes to college. We don’t have to enter the best university in the land. Many famous people didn’t. In the long run, having a passion for one’s life and work and obtaining training will happen. If one doesn’t succeed, try again with an exam. Life is about more than academic success.
Korean leaders and citizens could ease the pain by opening more colleges and universities. There are only 179 such schools, and with the reality of nearly the entire young adult population wanting university degrees, more investment by public and private entities in schools of higher learning is in order. The supply is inadequate to the demand, and it’s killing and hurting too many Korean youths, the flowers of the present and future.
As parents, we should be aware of the subtle and blatant, brutal pressures that may be placed on young minds and spirits. A parent under pressure to pay for lessons and learning mistakes matters when the child’s success takes precedence over their health. What profits a parent to see the child so ridden with pressure, shame and guilt that serious and permanent damage occurs — physical or mental? How do we project our own fears and needs onto our own children?
No, it’s vital to begin turning back this social disease of extreme exam pressure. Many countries have moved to making exams optional and other, more holistic methods of selecting college students. Universities and colleges need to realize that some of this blood is on their hands with the competition and glory mills that are run in the name of attracting a few at the expense of many, and at the expense of the public interest in the health and lives of all students.
A society will have greater happiness and success if it prioritizes the humanity of its next generation. With the diversity of talents and interests and an admissions system that puts human life and health first and foremost and always, Korea and the higher education systems of other Asian and non-Asian nations can do better. The journey of discovery that is higher education is meant to uphold and extend life, not lead our children to despair and worse.
Just as the film “The Pen” shows, the magic is in each of us as students, as former students now parents and in our relationships. Without keeping life and fulfillment at the heart of all that is done in the name of getting to university, we begin to sow the seeds of what isn’t life, freedom, or happiness together. We can and must do better.
Bernard Rowan is Associate Provost, Chicago State University, and professor of political science. He is a past fellow of the Korea Foundation and past visiting professor at the Hanyang University Graduate School of Public Administration.