Happy Humpday Haiku #13

On Children

Most are angelic.

Yet others make me believe

Some are born shitty.

            So I’ve been in Korea just shy of three months, and in that time I’d say I’ve gotten to know most of my students fairly well. Despite the whole “I-don’t-speak-your-language-and-you-barely-know-my-language-but-I-will-still-attempt-to-teach-it-to-you” that is the asterisk mark for my understanding of my students, I would say that observing my students’ body language and tone (both in relation to me and to other students) has greatly facilitated what understanding I’m confident I possess.

            That being said, I really do like most of my students. Some are obnoxious. Some talk too much. Some require more attention than others. Some don’t listen. Some never speak. Some even misbehave (GASP, a child misbehaving!? NEVER!). However, I’m pretty certain that these students are still fundamentally good people who possess a conscience and don’t always act out of selfishness. Besides, my oldest student is something like ten years old. Not only do I have to remind myself of that fact (because that last time I was around children this young, I was a child that young), but it seems pretty cynical to suggest that all of my students just so happen to be unruly and disrespectful because of who they are and not because of their age.

            And I do love some of my students. Not all of them are high ability students, but the ones that come up to me to say hello and ask me how I am and smile at me with their mouths and through me with their eyes have really become the focal point for me so far in this whole experience. And for me that’s kind of a big deal. If you were to ask me my thoughts on having children, my reply is along the lines of “someday, if I meet the right person…then maybe” (and that’s on a good day). I’ve been told that this sentiment is common among men my age. Regardless, there’s something about a child that, no matter how ridiculous raising one can get, you always get to witness whether or not (or how) they apply what you’ve taught them, and that has been (and I assume would be, if having a child of my own) gratifying to no end.

            Then there are children like one particular boy that I teach. He is the sole reason why I have any hesitation to go to work in the morning. The picture of his face in my head counteracts any motivation I can muster by midday. He is the reason why I truly believe that some people must be born shitty. I can put up with most of the bad things my children do throughout the day, because I know they’re just being children. When this particular child does bad things, I know it’s because he’s a disrespectful piece of s*** with hate in his heart. From my understanding, the parents have been nothing but nice to the administration at my school, so there’s no indication that this child gets his attitude from his parents. Nevertheless, his existence places doubt in any childrearing related decision I might have, for I risk having a child just like him.

            I'm genuinely excited to see how a lot of my students will end up. I can see aspects of myself when I was they're age and I'm excited to see where those qualities take them. My spawn of Satan makes me cringe to see how he grows up. As a child, he has the face of the Korean version of the horror movie doll Chuckie. I can't imagine what he's going to look like in a decade when he's getting ready to go to college (where he will probably major in torturing small animals and rodents). Anyways, thus is the spectrum of life, I suppose. If you want to play you have to take the odds. So far I like my odds, but what if...