Sorry I havent’ written:  it’s been a bad week…

It’s so bad I was just fishing 100 won coins out of my piggy bank with a knife so I could go buy a pack of cigarettes so I could calm down enough to write and eat my last lentils.  I am wondering if this is how it will be in March, or worse, if I can’t find a job.

So I’d been vacillating back and forth about staying at my current job and commuting, because I was starting to feel comfortable with it and enjoying teaching a lot.  But then I thought I might as well talk to SMOE (Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education) and get a feel for what they could offer me closer to my soon-to-be new apartment.  Which opened up a whole can of worms.

In America, as you know, it’s not uncommon to go feel out a situation and have a few interviews and then make a decision whether it’s the right move to make.  However, In Korea that wasn’t possible.  SMOE insisted on checking job references BEFORE even granting an interview.  Despite having an incredibly conservative recruiter who was discouraging all the way, upon receiving my resume and cover letter her tune suddenly changed to very enthusiastic and I was feeling very confident I would get a position, and that mostly I should just have the interview and decide whether or not that was a good idea.  Well, SMOE not only called In Kyung’s number that I left but also talked to the Vice Principal.  The next day a letter stating I wouldn’t be renewing my contract was shoved in my face and, shocked, I signed it.  A few days later my recruiter informs me that the list of applicants granted interviews was issued and that I wasn’t on it.  Sorry.

Great.  Just great.  So I must press forward and find a job I guess.  Okay, we will make lemons out of lemonaide and I enthusiastically look for new positions closer to my new place.  Only it is too early since, except for the public school positions, most private schools and academies place their adds just a month or two before the position opens.

Every single one of the few available I apply to I hear NOTHING back from.  NOTHING.

In Korea, a resume must be submitted before you even ask questions about the position – they won’t answer questions at all.  With every resume, a photo is required.  One look at my non-white photo, my Korean-looking photo, and that’s enough to not bother having the courtesy to even reply.  You can’t even get to the interview and wow them with your enthusiasm or looking a decade younger than you are or anything.  Profiled and screened.  OUT.

Korean war baby and all-around decent guy, Don, personally takes me to the owner of the company he works for, a long time friend, and we talk for a long time.  The company is an outsourcing franchise of another company that offers full-time employment, which I was also applying for, explaining that I would be happy to take odd jobs  until a full time position was available.  I at least got a short reply from them, but it was kind of one of those “don’t call us – we’ll call you” things.  Then, I get an email from Don entitled Too Bad You’re Not White.

Earlier, I had emailed In Kyung asking why the non-renewal letter couldn’t just be torn up.  Today I asked her about it.  Seems that despite hearing nothing but accolades about my work ethic, commitment, lesson plans and class preparation from others, the Vice Principal has been soured on me due to bashing by Mr. Lee.  The Vice Principal is extremely unpopular and Mr. Lee is one of the few people who will even give him the time of day.  That I asked for some rotton male student to be disciplined (who I suspect was a family friend of the Principal) was cited as being my fault.  Where was Mr. Lee that whole time?  Did he even attempt to step in and help?  No.  Because Mr. Lee doesn’t believe in communicative techniques to teach students a foreign language.  Mr. Lee criticized anything that did not pacify and entertain the students.  He wanted me to play movies with Korean subtitles and just babysit.  I couldn’t even include Mr. Lee in any of the lessons like I could the other co-teachers, because the students all speak better English than Mr. Lee…

So today I have no job because an old guy about to retire doesn’t like me.  That’s okay.  The feeling is mutual, worthless old sack of…

Lesson learned.  I have been beaten into submission.  But too late for me.  Today I am scared.  I’m in a foreign country with no job prospects because I’m not foreign enough. If I’d have known, I’d have played the boys movies every day.  Who the hell did I think I was, wanting to actually teach them something?

I can listen to those who are white enough or have credentials enough tell me not to worry – you can teach part time and build up privates  (and how do I survive until I build up privates? and what if, like Don’s friend, the part-time places won’t even hire me because I’m not white enough?)

Or I can take my free flight home and try and get a job back in the U.S. (which is not a very promising proposition)  Or maybe I can go teach in another country.

In the meantime, I look at the job boards every day, hoping something comes up that is viable – which means within an hour’s commute, that will hire an aging Korean that they can try and sell as a native English speaker…

It’s not looking too good.

The mojo I’ve always had is gone.  In retrospect, it started to fade about four years ago.  All the experiences makes one over-confident.  Really, I’m just replaceable.

The goal was to be able to work more for TRACK.  But without means of support I’m no good for anybody.

 

from JongAng Daily

Some hanok owners against city efforts to preserve their traditional homes November 10, 2009

A shot of aging traditional Korean homes in Chebu-dong, Jongno District. The residents of the neighborhood have voted in favor or a redevelopment plan that will bring more modern buildings to the area. Ikseon-dong and other neighborhoods might face similar fates. By Ahn Seong-sik Stroll through the tangle of alleyways in the Ikseon-dong neighborhood of the Jongno District and you’re transported to another world, one where quaint wood-frame homes with ornate roofs line the streets alongside boutiques selling colorful clothing from a bygone era. Ikseon-dong is one of only a handful of neighborhoods in Seoul where traditional homes, called hanok, still dominate the landscape, harkening back to Korea’s not-so-distant past. The country’s rapid march toward industrialization in the second half of the 20th century often trampled cultural preservation efforts. With Korea now firmly entrenched in the developed world, however, some city officials are trying to shelter areas like Ikseon-dong from the continuing push toward modernization, setting aside large chunks of money to help hanok owners renovate and upgrade their homes. It’s a noble goal, as the homes represent a unique cultural asset for the city and provide a window into its history. But these efforts are being met with resistance from a surprising segment of the population: the homeowners themselves. Some owners say they’d rather have the government tear down their homes and build modern apartments on the land, provided they get space in the new residences. Hanok, they claim, are relatively uncomfortable in this day and age, as they have poor heating in winter, antiquated bathroom facilities and other drawbacks. These families, many of which have lived in the homes for decades, would rather reside in a modern apartment than a historical house.“Although these houses might be inconvenient in several ways, it is important for us to preserve them,” said Lee Hak-won, a researcher and associate professor in the department of traditional architecture at the Korean National University of Cultural Heritage. “We need to look at the bigger picture. A combination of old and new architectural structures is necessary. And many cities around the world have successfully been able to incorporate both. read the whole story at JoongAng Daily

So much thoughtful stuff to read at Conducive mag:

Mirah Ruben has commented extensively on my adoption survivor blog.  Haven’t read her book, but here’s a joint editorial by her.

REVERSE ROBINHOODISM Pitting Poor Against Affluent Women in the Adoption Industry

 

Shannon Gibney collects and comments on groups who have a vision for a more respectful consideration of race and adoption.

TRANSRACIAL ADOPTION Some Visions I Have Seen…

 

Post, author of Romania For Export Only; The Untold Story of the Romanian Orphans moves the International Adoption discussion back where it belongs, back to basic fundamental human rights:

INTERNATIONAL ADOPTION Child Protection or a Breach of Rights?

 

Vietnamese adoptee Kevin Minh Allen discusses the economic incentives written into U.S. law which promotes adoption, and what the human cost is.

THE PRICE WE ALL PAY Human Trafficking in International Adoption

Today I returned to school after taking Monday off with some, what I believe to be, awful but mild case of food poisoning.  (I have no idea what I ate that was bad, but it’s clear I ate something bad) And then, after having fasted an entire day I decided to take Tuesday off as well, since I didn’t want to be in a super weakened state in a germ-filled school where kids were dropping like flies due to the swine flu outbreaks.

Upon my return, I am informed that the second half of the school day I can go home, as there will be school – wide meetings on how to conduct testing in light of the swine flu pandemic.  The following day is the Korean SAT’s, and except for test proctors and seniors, everyone else gets to go home.  Did I pick a great week to get sick, or what?

Here’s a little post I didn’t finish on exam fever from last mid-terms:

Next week is mid-terms.

I know, I know.  We haven’t even been back from summer vacation for a month, and it’s already mid-terms coming up?  This is because of the college entrance exam in November.  I believe the entire school gets that day off.  I heard all of Korea has to be quiet on that day.

Something I may have forgot to write about last time, due to other dramas, was about last semester’s mid-terms and finals.  It’s kind of crazy.  The parents’ association sends gift boxes to all of the teachers.  (they also sent kim bop to the teachers during summer classes because the cafeteria was closed) In the recent past, parents sent bribes to teachers, but I guess that was outlawed.  Supposedly these bribes continue to vice principals and principals, but who can really say…In all of the classes, the parents send pizza to the classes afterward.  Last time (and this time) home room teachers are asking me to switch around my class schedule so they can best optimize their student’s cramming.

For the last two weeks, the teachers have all been staying late preparing the tests.  Occasionally they will come ask me to verify the correctness of the grammar.  The tests are very hard and sometimes.  If, for example, I tell them that the question doesn’t make sense, I am sometimes told that the question was made by someone else and can’t be changed – is this answer good or bad?  There doesn’t seem to be room for me to tell them it’s irrelevant if the answer is good or bad because the question doesn’t make sense…Anyway, these tests are then put under lock and key and the answers (at some point, don’t know when) are entered into a test card reader.  The card reader is also under lock and key in its own special room.  Each and every test has to be counted, again and again and again, to make sure not one has disappeared…

On test day, each class is divided in half and sent to different classrooms and each class gets students from different grades, to discourage cheating. The rows are grade A, grade B, A, B, A, B.  The students are put in numerical order as well.  The teacher’s podium is removed and put in the hallway so the desks can be spaced further apart.  The rest is typical – we must have tests prepared for instant distribution the second the PA announces the test is to begin.  Every score card has to be stamped with the instructor/test proctor’s stamp.  Students can raise their hands and get a blank score card should they make a mistake, which we must immediately destroy.  Most students wait until the final five minutes before filling out their cards, to leave room for the possibility of changing their answers.  But like the Monte Python bridge question, “what is your favorite color?”  I’ve seen indecision kill a student.   He kept trading in his card and then, finally happy with his choice, he made a mistake filling in a wrong circle and the test had ended.  I’m sure you could hear his scream of anguish across the entire school…Fortunately, the kids get the afternoon off of school, but they will go home and study from the time they get home and all night.  By the third day of the week, they are falling asleep during their tests.  By the last day, some of them no longer look human.

The SAT’s tomorrow are the apex of the student’s entire time in high school, and actually their entire time in school.  Period.  The entire nation will be hoping and praying for someone they know taking the exam.  Social status STILL hinges on the prestige associated with what university you attend, and there are only about three universities in Korea that have any credibility in the world stage.  There are actually a lot of minor technical colleges too, but for the most part, Koreans tell me there aren’t enough schools for everyone applying.  So a foreigner would then ask – why?  Why not open more?  (but I’m learning that sometimes, just to keep from being angry, it is better not to ask why)  They only thing I can figure is the fierce competition preserves the class screening process, but I’m hoping I’m wrong and it is something more pragmatic.

Tomorrow the school will be open.  The schools swap students to eliminate the possibility of  test corruption between teachers who have been bribed by parents, or teachers who show favoritism.  Taxis and policemen will be on alert to ferry late students to the test on time.  I heard that all flights are rescheduled during the exams so as not to disturb the students!

If my stupid video camera was working, I could go down and film the cheerleading going on at the entry gates of my school, but unfortunately, it’s been filming everything red for some reason.

No matter, here is some other footage of the madness other foreigners have taken in years previous..

This one has some really thoughtful comments from the students:

If you can suffer through the trite first few minutes, this is an interesting collection of interviews with Koreans about the national college entrance exam pressure:

Korean supporting/cheering each other on the most stressful day of their lives:

FIGHTING!!!

The temples are inundated with moms praying for their students good text scores

(boring to watch & not recommended, but just documenting)

That would be today’s date, and that would also be the subject of much blogging by anybody who has a blog and is living in Korea. But, since my friends and family presumably aren’t reading all the blogging about living in Korea, I will elucidate what the 1111 means.

No wait. Others have done it before and better than me, so here’s the post from blogger, the truth thus far:

I don’t know much about it except that it’s a genius marketing ploy by the Pepero company. Apparently 11/11 looks like Pepero sticks, and so everyone gives away a crap ton of Pepero on the day.  It can be romantic (as many of the boxes are shaped as hearts, etc), but you can also give it to friends, coworkers, anyone…. Some of my students said they’d bring me some either today or Wednesday so I’m pretty excited because Pepero is frickin delicious. Ne way. I’m copying and pasting what Wikipedia said below…

Pepero Day is an observance in South Korea similar to Valentine’s Day or Sweetest Day. It is named after the Korean snack Pepero and held on November 11, since the date “11/11″ resembles five sticks of Pepero. The holiday is observed mostly by young people and couples, who exchange Pepero sticks, other candies, and romantic gifts.

According to one story, Pepero Day was started in 1994 by students at a girls’ middle school in Busan, where they exchanged Pepero sticks as gifts to wish one another to grow “as tall and slender as a Pepero”^{[citation needed]} (Pepero means “thin like a stick”). However, it is more likely it was initiated by Lotte, the company which produces Pepero.

In Japan, a similar Pocky Day was held on November 11 in 1999, which was the 11th year of the Heisei era. The date, 11/11 of the 11th year, resembled 6 sticks of Pocky.

Lotte, by the way, is as ubiquitous in Korea as Samsung, LG, and Hyundai. From candy and gum to hotels, apartment complexes, department stores, oil, credit cards, an amusement park to a baseball team, it’s everywhere…a jaebeol (conglomerate) of over 60 companies, all run by one family.  The anti-multi-national corporation rebel in me has a hard time finding any candy or junk or gum or anything without Lotte on the label.  So I prefer to buy the  – I can’t remember what you call it – from the hippie lady street vender:

(she’s usually so cute and bohemian-looking, but today she has on sportswear)

anyway, these toasted rounds of hearty whole wheat goodness from the back of a truck are so crisp and warm, and then you bite into them and voila!

you bite through one layer which cracks off in your mouth like a super hearty croissant flake, and it MELTS in your mouth because inside is coated with -i-don’t-know-what – but it’s sweet and sticky and super yummy and then hit another layer and they land in your mouth all warm and you collapse them with your mouth and they continue to expose sweet goodness as you crunch away.  Much better than those too soft and mushy sweet bean paste filled fried fish shaped things, or the walnut and sweet bean paste filled too soft and mushy fried walnut shaped things.  Highly, highly recommended. Too bad I can’t remember what they’re called…

The horrible thing I have recently realized is my own capacity for taking the path of least resistance.  At first I would fret about not knowing what something was called or that I didn’t know how to do something and felt helpless.  But the horrible thing is that, instead of learning how or investigating more, I simply learned to work around the problem or do without.  Basically, I stopped learning.  And I’m really really skilled at it.

For example, getting cash out of a Korean ATM machine.  Someone showed me once.  I didn’t take notes on what hanguel meant what, or which buttons I should push, so the next time it was too overwhelming and I said to hell with it.  Now, if I can’t get money from an English ATM, then I just don’t even try.  And I forget it’s something I should make an effort to educate myself on.  When I remember, I realize how LAME I can be.

But on the other hand, it’s also amazing to me just how many things most people do every day that they feel is essential that really isn’t.  So in a way I really like being the deaf mute person with little connection to anything and little vocabulary to communicate.  It makes me feel basic and easily content and whole.

 

See what my heroes in Korea have been up to…it feels good that I can call them “comrade.”

So damn proud…

Six Korean adoptees filed an appeal with the Anti-corruption and Civil Rights Commission last year to request a probe into irregularities in their adoption documents and possible illegal procedures at local adoption agencies.

Now, they’re involved in a full-fledged battle to reform adoption laws and procedures, and they’re getting help from some heavyweights.

Adoptee rights and community groups as well as unwed mothers, the public interest law firm Gong-Gam and Democratic Party Representative Choi Young-hee have joined forces with the adoptees in an effort to convince lawmakers to revise the Special Law Relating to the Promotion and Procedure of Adoption.

The National Assembly has now taken up the issue and is exploring changes through a series of hearings.

The latest hearing took place yesterday.

If their efforts succeed, the groups will drastically change the landscape of domestic and international adoption in Korea, a country which lawmaker Choi said at yesterday’s hearing said “still has a stigma attached to it as one of the major exporters of children.”

It would also rank as one of the few cases in the world where adoptees returned to their original country and changed adoption practices through legislation.

False records

When they started this quest, the adoptees, hailing from three different countries, said their adoption records contained contradictory information.

	Adoptee Jane Jeong Trenka

In one case, an adoptee only identified by her initials, SIA, said her adoptive parents in Denmark were informed by an adoption agency in 1977 that it did not have the records of her birth parents. But when SIA came to Korea in 1998 and asked for information about them, the agency did in fact have information about her birth mother. SIA also found that the adoption was done without her mother’s consent.

In another case, an adoptee only identified as PYJ said her adoption agency created a new identity for her when she was sent to Norway for adoption in 1975.

Their initial attempt to delve into the issue hit a brick wall when the civil rights commission dismissed the appeal, citing a lack of proper administrative procedures in Korea at the time of their adoption.

Taking on the law

The adoptees, however, did not stop there. Instead of filing another petition or begging for the release of their records at adoption agencies, they decided to try to revise adoption-related laws to find out the truth and improve the system.

According to the Ministry for Health, Welfare and Family Affairs, 161,588 Korean children were sent overseas for adoption from 1958 through 2008. Korea is the world’s fifth-largest exporter of children behind China, Guatemala, Russia and Ethiopia as of 2007, according to World Partners Adoption Inc.

“Most Korean adoptees are growing up in foreign countries and facing confusion over their identity. Even though they come to Korea to find their roots, there are few cases in which they are given accurate information on their birth or succeed in locating their birth parents. To improve the situation, we decided to hold a hearing on revising the Special Act,” lawmaker Choi said.

Need for stricter regulations

The proposed bill starts with the idea that foreign, and even domestic, adoption is not the best option for children and that public assistance should be given to mothers to help them raise their children, a concept that follows international adoption practices. It also incorporates the notion that adoption processes need to be more strictly regulated to prevent possible abuses by adoption agencies.

“The government wants to push domestic adoption, but all the children already have mothers,” said Jane Jeong Trenka, the president of the Truth and Reconciliation for the Adoption Community of Korea and one of the adoptees who filed the appeal at the commission. “The children can stay with their mothers. Single mothers should be given resources to raise their own children. It is still a matter of social prejudice in Korea.”

	A National Assembly hearing was held yesterday on revising Korea’s special adoption law. By Jeon Min-gyu

Trenka added that a number of adoptees had families but were reclassified as orphans before they were sent abroad for adoption. “Because their records were manipulated, only 2.7 percent of adoptees succeed in locating their birth parents,” she said.

The majority of children relinquished for adoption in Korea are the children of unwed mothers. Of the 2,556 adoptions in 2008, international and domestic, 2,170 were the children of unwed mothers. Others were from low-income families or broken homes.

One of the biggest obstacles that prevents these women from raising their children on their own is the social stigma they face as unwed mothers. Another is the lack of social welfare services available to them should they choose to raise their child.

Trenka was adopted by a couple in Minnesota in the United States in 1972 when she was six months old. In 2007, Trenka and other Korean adoptees founded TRACK to help get the government to fully acknowledge its past and present adoption practices.

Reverend Kim Do-hyun, who is the director of KoRoot, which provides accommodation for Korean adoptees returning to the country, echoed those thoughts.

“Behind the Special Law is an idea that adoption needs to be encouraged,” Kim said. “But adoption is not something that we should promote. Rather than pushing adoption, we should reinforce the original family to prevent further separation between mothers and their children.”

Adoption as a business

One of the major changes proposed by the bill drafted by the public interest law firm Gong-Gam is that it would require court approval for all types of adoptions – currently they’re needed only for domestic adoptions – and increase government intervention in matters dealt with mostly by private adoption agencies.

The adoptees say there needs to be more government involvement in adoption because as more adult adoptees reunite with their birth parents and gain access to their records, examples of dubious international adoption practices have surfaced.

TRACK has been documenting these cases through interviews with adoptees and their birth families. They found that in some cases an orphan hojeok (family registry) is produced for a child sent for international adoption, even if the child has a family. Contradictions were also found between the records held by adoptive parents and those kept by the adoption agency. In one case the child was malnourished at the time of adoption but the records sent to the adoptive parents overseas stated the child was healthy. In another case, a child was given up for domestic adoption but was sent abroad for international adoption.

The adoptee coalition believes such irregularities occurred because adoption agencies manipulated records to push international adoption, which is very profitable.

According to the Health Ministry, the four adoption agencies authorized to facilitate international adoptions charge 13 million won ($17,211) to 20 million won for each child sent for international adoption.

Pressure on moms

Another proposed revision would give women a minimum of 30 days to make a decision on adoption, which is standard in Western countries. There is no set period for this in South Korea.

Observers say women are often forced to sign an agreement on adoption almost right after giving birth. If the mothers change their mind, the agencies charge them for all expenses they’ve incurred, from child delivery to the shelters they run. They said adoption agencies tend to encourage adoption rather than telling the women that there are other options available such as raising their child on their own.

“Adoption agencies pressure you to give up your child,” Choi Hyang-sook, a member of the group Miss Mamma Mia, which is also part of the adoptee coalition, said at yesterday’s hearing.

Access to records

Third, the agencies would be obligated to provide adoptees with all information on their birth parents, with the exception of name and registration number if the birth parents do not want their identities revealed. Kim said adoption agencies are often reluctant to share information with adoptees who are looking for their birth parents and vice versa because they are afraid that past abuses could become public knowledge.

“Adoption agencies provide adult adoptees with only partial information, citing the protection of their birth parents’ privacy,” Kim said. “The agencies have often falsified data to suit adoptive parents’ taste or to abide by the laws of the country to which they are sending a child. There were cases in which adoptees were classified as orphans when they were not. The more information they reveal, the more their reputation can be damaged.”

One adoption agency disputed the accusations. “There are records we can open but there are those we can’t,” said Choi An-yeo, a manager at Holt Children’s Services Inc., the biggest and oldest adoption agency in Korea.

Choi said things were different a few decades ago. “Then, it was possible to send an abandoned child abroad for adoption. If someone brought in a child and lied that he or she was a legal guardian, there would be no way for us to find out. We only have followed the laws and we will continue to do so,” she added.

Unifying adoption bills

Democratic Party Representative Choi is sponsoring the proposal while the Health Ministry is also drawing up its own bill. It is not certain how the government bill is going to be shaped but Park Sook-ja, the director of the Office for Child, Youth and Family Policy at the Health Ministry, said she generally sympathizes with the adoptee coalition. “We share similar ideas in general, but we need to take it one step at a time,” Park said.

The ministry has already held two hearings on the bill, however, Park said it is too early to talk about the bill as the final version has not been made yet.

Choi said the differences between the two bills will likely be ironed out before a unified bill is presented to the Assembly early next year.

Based on ‘lies’

Dozens of adoptees including Trenka attended the hearing yesterday in the hope that the bill Choi presented can transform adoption practices here.

Trenka commented, “Adoption may be an act of love, but all adoptions are meant to separate children from their mothers.”

Trenka started writing to her birth parents regularly when she was 16 years old. Her adoptive parents did not like her keeping in touch with her birth parents but one day she found letters from her birth mother in her adoptive parents’ mailbox. Her birth mother had found her adoptive parents’ address and kept sending her letters. Trenka said she still remembers the time she reunited with her birth mother.

“My mother was so emotional. I’d never seen a person so emotional,” she said. “She sat on the floor and poured her heart out.”

Trenka reunited with the rest of her birth family in the 1990s.

“Adoption is a big lie. Its success depends on everyone believing in that lie. They [my adoptive parents] wanted to believe in that lie but I could not do that.” Asked why she is devoting herself to creating the law, she said, “For my mother. My mother died but if I don’t try to change things, my suffering has no meaning.”

By Limb Jae-un [jbiz91@joongang.co.kr]