How I Unintentionally Became the Cool Teacher

My first job in South Korea was at an English hakwon, a language institute where adults take classes before and after work, and kids go after school. I was required to give the children weekly tests. The tests were a waste of time because teachers weren’t allowed to give any grades below 70 for fear of upsetting the parents (read: mothers) who’d then pull the kid (and their money) out. But that’s a whole other topic. The fact is that I had to give even the littlest kids weekly oral tests. I would sit in the hallway outside the classroom and test them two at time. They usually had to perform a memorized dialogue. It was pitiful to see how some of them would get so nervous when they were sent out to me. To relieve some of the stress, I’d greet them warmly and give them an extra-bright smile. When they finished the test, I’d give each a high five, and have them high five each other.

Everything was going along fine until the day I noticed a boy use the urinal, turn around and walk straight out of the restroom without washing his hands. I hadn’t meant to see it, but the boys’ room door was always open, and the urinals were lined up opposite the door. My mind began making connections. Those are the same hands I’ve been high fiving! Aside from general little boy germs, I had baby penis germs on my hands!

When that six-month contract came to an end and I got a job at an English village, I made a point to encourage kids with fist bumps instead of high fives. Knuckles are a bit less germy than palms, I figured. Most of my students were junior high schoolers (ages 12-15). I was unprepared for their response to fist bumps. The boys, in particular, thought it was the coolest thing EVER. I was supposed to stamp their class participation passports, but some of them preferred getting fist bumps over stamps.

One boy from Bucheon asked “Teacher, you have boyfriend?” I answered, “No, do you want to be my boyfriend?” This response usually made the asker blush and retreat, but this bold kid said, “Yes! Wait me! Wait me five years!” I was not ready. Was it my fabulous wit and beauty or was it the fist bumps? Outside of class they’d find the smallest excuse to approach me in the hope of getting an extra fist bump. Then they’d look back at their friends as if they’d just fist bumped a famous NBA player. Considering that most of my high school students in the U.S. thought I was the very opposite of cool, this tickled me to no end.

Fast forward to my first school in Japan, both the students and teachers thought fist bumps were super kakkoi. The social studies teacher put a photo of me on the front page of the eighth grade homeroom newsletter. In it I was fist bumping a student. Months later, while checking out the teachers’ shared drive, I came across dozens of photos of me fist bumping students which had been taken by the tenth grade homeroom teacher during my first couple weeks there.

Who knew that, in my quest to encourage nervous students AND avoid their germs, I’d stumble onto the magic key to coolness in Asia? The students I teach now love it, probably because it’s new (to them) and because they’d only ever seen it on television. Whatever the reason, I’m going to ride this wave of coolness because if I return to teach in the U.S., I’ll go back to being the strict, nerdy, uncool teacher. 

March 4, 2020