The Golden Age

Beck.

Well. Here I am sitting at work. I should be grading papers, or filling out online reports, or contemplating doing all of those super things. However. I am running on 3 hours of sleep, and when I am this alert and exhausted at the same time, my mind has a hard time prioritizing a coherent schedule. And so, I just end up having internal…reflections?

I have been in Korea for almost 10 months. And it is not okay that the time has suddenly passed by this fast. It honestly feels like the last few months have been in a blur – and I’ve only came up for air enough times that I can count on my hand. See, just horrid. This job has really grown on me. I remember starting out so long ago. I constantly considered packing up my shit and going back home. I came up with numerous scenarios of what I could do to ram up my “midnight run” successfully. For some reason, I had a strange gut feeling that I should dig deep and stay. You know, see how everything plays out for once. Now, I can freely say that I’m glad that I made that janked decision. It only took like seven months to see that. I constantly find myself staring at my class, especially my kindie kids – it is mind-blowing to take a moment and see how much they have grown in the whole time that I’ve been here. Especially mentally, and with the fact that they actually have developed a few manners to put under their belt. I such a hard time at the beginning – they often went weeks without playroom and  I thought I was the worst teacher ever for them. There was such a huge wall up – this being my first time really working with kids and not having adequate experience, I. was. dying. And so were they. Reaching them became my biggest challenge. As the days and weeks would pass, I slowly noticed that I frowned and finger pointed less and less. The kids began giggling and hashing out jokes. We tore up playroom. They’d draw loving pictures (which I had to guess the subject matter of course) and saying the “L” word with such genuine candor. I was falling in love with them. A serious attachment soon ensued. Oh. I’m just gushing now. Hey, don’t forget that they are little kids still. They are instances where the word “shithead” comes to mind. But they are my own endearing shitheads. As far as the job itself goes, like the work environment, it used to be real high-strung. I mean, you could cut the tension thickly with a knife. But now. it suddenly became…tolerable.

Dare I say, almost enjoyable?  Ah

 

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