At least I thought we were finished. When I asked Mr. Jeong whether I can go home early, he declined, saying that there was a company dinner that I had to go to. So after the parents and kids all left, the teachers packed up in a car and went to this restaurant fifteen minutes away by driving. It was Friday, and I wished I could go hang somewhere else, but ... what can you do. So we all showed up, and I was driven by the librarian. We all parked, went in, and took off our shoes.
I sat next to the fourth grade teacher on the left, librarian to the right. We sat cross legged in front of a low table, and it was a few minutes before the waitress came to give our table the food. There was live octopus, sashimi, some noodles they called japchae and stuff. But I barely remember the food, because of what happened next.
After a parent gave a toast to the school for being successful, everyone drank, and I had to too, even though I keep making clear that I get trashed beyond easily, and it's generally not a good idea. So I drank, and got red in the face within a flat five minutes, only to be remedied later with rice and hot fish soup. Before that, though, Mr. Jeong talked to the second grade teacher and they toasted again. She made him stay in the same place, even though he wanted to go back to his wife. Then because he's drunk, he started telling me that he thought I was ignoring him because he was bad at English. And that he was mentally comparing me with the previous foreign English teacher, at which point I tell him that everyone's been comparing me to her, not just him. He paused, at which point I looked up struggle in the Eng-Kor dictionary and showed it to him, pointing at myself. He said he was beginning to understand, and I was a little tired and overwhelmed by mostly the sohju but also what he said, so I couldn't stop myself, bowed and went off to cry.
Someone noticed, and then in a few minutes, everyone knew that I was crying. And they were all asking why, and trying to comfort me, which actually made it worse. It was so very embarassing. And I felt bad that the principal came over and started comforting me more, saying how it's all a lot to get used to, Asians should stick together, that he was honored I'm working at his school, and ... a lot of flattering stuff I felt I did not deserve. Especially since I'm still learning to be a teacher.
One of the special education teachers drove the principal and me home. I was tired, embarassed, largely overwhelmed, and just emotionally drained. And I tried my best to pretend none of that happened the next time I saw all of them, which was Monday. And thankfully, they were all eager to pretend nothing happened, too. Over the weekend, I approached Mr. Jeong to tell him there were a lot of things I couldn't explain, that I'm sorry, and he gave me some grapes. An awkward man who I can't hate, I guess.
I sat next to the fourth grade teacher on the left, librarian to the right. We sat cross legged in front of a low table, and it was a few minutes before the waitress came to give our table the food. There was live octopus, sashimi, some noodles they called japchae and stuff. But I barely remember the food, because of what happened next.
After a parent gave a toast to the school for being successful, everyone drank, and I had to too, even though I keep making clear that I get trashed beyond easily, and it's generally not a good idea. So I drank, and got red in the face within a flat five minutes, only to be remedied later with rice and hot fish soup. Before that, though, Mr. Jeong talked to the second grade teacher and they toasted again. She made him stay in the same place, even though he wanted to go back to his wife. Then because he's drunk, he started telling me that he thought I was ignoring him because he was bad at English. And that he was mentally comparing me with the previous foreign English teacher, at which point I tell him that everyone's been comparing me to her, not just him. He paused, at which point I looked up struggle in the Eng-Kor dictionary and showed it to him, pointing at myself. He said he was beginning to understand, and I was a little tired and overwhelmed by mostly the sohju but also what he said, so I couldn't stop myself, bowed and went off to cry.
Someone noticed, and then in a few minutes, everyone knew that I was crying. And they were all asking why, and trying to comfort me, which actually made it worse. It was so very embarassing. And I felt bad that the principal came over and started comforting me more, saying how it's all a lot to get used to, Asians should stick together, that he was honored I'm working at his school, and ... a lot of flattering stuff I felt I did not deserve. Especially since I'm still learning to be a teacher.
One of the special education teachers drove the principal and me home. I was tired, embarassed, largely overwhelmed, and just emotionally drained. And I tried my best to pretend none of that happened the next time I saw all of them, which was Monday. And thankfully, they were all eager to pretend nothing happened, too. Over the weekend, I approached Mr. Jeong to tell him there were a lot of things I couldn't explain, that I'm sorry, and he gave me some grapes. An awkward man who I can't hate, I guess.
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