The Bad Teacher

Today is my last day in the Hagwon. The Wonjangnim told me last Monday that they need someone to work fulltime, which I can not, for obvious reasons. It was fine with me. I know that the Great Provider will give me another job next week. That I never doubt.

School dragged like a boring movie. I wanted to pull the string of time to wind it at 5:40 pm so that I can just go to the movies and watch "Blackout".

I went to the Hagwon an hour and a half before classes start. I played with the kids for the last time.

Soon, I got tired playing with the kids. I decided to teach them the running man and Roger Rabbit. The kids followed suit and we just danced our spirits away.

Before we knew it, standing there by the door, in all his splendor, was the Wonjang. He asked me to fix the tables and get ready for my class. I knew it. Now he doesn't regret firing me. Am so worth it. HAHAHHAHAH! I just don't give a fucking care!

I said goodbye to my first class, composed of snotty 10 year olds. One almost cried. I gave them my celphone number so that they can buzz me whenever they feel like talking to me. That comforted them a bit.

One of the girls, Emily, gave me a friendship ring. So sweet of her. She told me that she will miss me because am the only teacher who played hula with them. Haha! Talk about second childhood. If only Emily knew.

My second and third classes went fairly well. No emotional goodbyes. Nothing. They are bunch of retards anyway.

The last class was something else. My energy, having been consumed earlier with all those games and dancing, has dwindled around 5:00 pm. I was not in the mood to teach anymore. I was not even in the mood to tell these kids that it's our last day together. Heck, I don't care anymore if they get the shock of their lives when they meet the new teacher next week.

I decided to teach them how to curse in English. Oh no, I did not mean to. I swear, I did not start it.

Paul, the perennial late comer, started it all. He asked me what "damn you" means. I explained. Soon, he was asking me what "motherfucker", "shithead", "fuck you" and a lot other curses I never heard of before. I was shocked! I don't really curse, you know. Except only when I am upset.

I asked him where he learned all these words. Apparently, he's been watching too much WWF, that wrestling show. Gosh! It has to stop! Now am worried for my son. He likes watching it too.

I told Paul that these are really mean words and that he should never never say any of it. He just ignored me. He wrote down all the words and started to recite them aloud. I wanted to kick him in the shin but thought better about it. I should have not entertained his questions at all.

I gave them something to do. That made Paul busy for quite some time. Then Noel, the silent one, innocently told me that their American neighbor, whenever he gets drunk, would yell: "Fuck you Koreans!" I wanted to roll on the floor laughing. I tried to keep a straight face though (which was so damn hard to do). Noel seemed so ignorant about the whole thing. Paul started to explain something to him in Korean. I told Paul to shut up! Really! This kid is a different case of ADHD. I am just so glad to be out of this school.

I changed the topic, but Noel prodded me to teach him what to say back to this neighbor. All right, I gave in. I told him that the next time he hears their American neighbor curse them, he should yell back: "Fuck loser! Get outta here!" Noel dutifully wrote it down. I don't hate Americans, okay?

Do I hear Pink Floyd's The Wall in the background?

"We don’t need no education.
We don’t need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teacher, leave those kids alone.
Hey, teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all it’s just another brick in the wall..."

I'm a baaaaaaaaaaaad baaaaaaaaaad teacher....