I recently read the Time article “Teacher, Leave Those Kids Alone” by Amanda Ripley about a new government-imposed curfew in South Korea. The late-night patrol now prowl the streets to find after-hours tutoring academies (known as hagwons) that are in session after 10 p.m. It’s not just policemen that are searching for late-night studiers-- the government also encourages citizens to turn in those who violate the curfew, as well.
Huh. Seems to be a pretty stark difference between what the ASU security patrol and what the Seoul security are looking for.
Considering that I’m writing this while intermittently doing my homework on the Saturday night ASU is playing Oregon State, you can probably guess what kind of high school student I was. Where were these patrolmen during AP testing? (I was convinced I grew a gray hair during those two weeks junior and senior year).
But anyways, according to the article, the standard academic day for a South Korean student begins at 8 a.m. and ends sometime between 10 p.m. to 1 a.m. The country’s addiction to studying is to the detriment of South Korean education. The well-being and success of South Korean students has declined because they aren’t actually processing the information that they’re learning—they’re too exhausted. There are just as many students sleeping in class as there are ones taking notes. Gift shops have even accommodated by selling pillows sleeves that cover the forearm to make for more comfortable desktop napping.
To counter the educational injuries, the government is creating policies that aim to lower student stress, accept creativity, and encourage socialization. In terms of education, as we try to be more like South Korea, South Korea tries to be more like us.
But studying is too deeply embedded in South Korean culture for the hagwon-goers to relent to the law. In a society where top grades have been prized above everything else, how can the people not be expected to use every hour they can so they have a competitive edge?
Sidenote, when I was in high school I overheard my classmates bragging about how much they drank that weekend, not how many hours they studied. Huh.
The shadow education keeps enduring no matter the measures taken to counter it. From capping hagwon tuition to instating the recent curfew, nothing works.
Many hagwons disguise themselves as independent study sessions to try to slip through the ban. In the article, Ripley tells of an illegally operated study session she and the Seoul patrol busted: “In a warren of small study rooms with low ceilings and fluorescent lights, about 40 teenagers sit at small, individual carrels. The air is stale. It is a disturbing scene, sort of like a sweatshop for children's brains.”
Now whenever I’m tempted to pull an all-night study session, I’ll have to tell myself, “Remember the hagwon.” It ain’t pretty.