Did I succeed in tricking you with the title? Do you think I’ve found the man of my dreams here in Korea? That I finally have the fairytale romance that so many people wish for? Well, in spite of my best efforts, that is not the case. I’ll let you know if that changes. However, I don’t expect to actually find anything here. I’m not exactly desirable by any means. Why would a man court me instead of one of the many other, prettier, thinner, smarter, funnier foreign girls? Nonetheless, if my situation changes, I’ll be sure to make some record of it here that I can use to embarrass myself later.

Anyways, no. The love I’ve found in Korea is one I didn’t expect to find. I’ve realized I love my job. When I first began looking into teaching in Korea, it was because I wanted to study Korean language. Teaching just seemed to be the best way to get here to do it. This has been successful, to some degree. My language skills have (minutely) improved, and I’ve been able to go to concerts and see sights that I never thought I could. For a long time, I thought I’d be stuck in my home town forever.

One thing I was certain of before I moved here, was that my job would just be a job. It would be, like retail, something I smiled through during the day and tried not to think about when I wasn’t there. This was especially inspired by the fact that I’m not really fond of children. I have nieces and nephews and while I adore them, I don’t really want to be around them for too long. I dreaded knowing how many elementary schools EPIK would give me, and how I’d spend 22 or more long hours a week with them.

God blessed me with a single middle school, but even then, I was still nervous. I remembered what I was like in 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. I was a monster. I was rude, annoying, and sensitive. I was every negative thing a middle schooler could be, and none of the positive ones. I was certain that this was my karma. But then… it wasn’t.

I love my students – and that is the love I found in Korea. Like most kids in middle school they are rude, annoying, and sensitive. They never, ever stop talking. They ask me invasive questions, laugh at my Korean skills, and roll their eyes at my lesson plans. However, they are also brilliant. They make language connections that I can’t even consider. They work incredibly hard (and, certainly, that’s part of the culture, but that doesn’t make it less of a feat). They find time for hobbies in the midst of their studies and are incredibly talented singers, dancers, gamers, artists, athletes… whatever they are interested in. My students are kind – they visit my desk after school and use translating apps to have simple conversations with me – them always reminding me to stay warm and have a nice weekend. They are also incredibly funny. Despite our language and cultural barriers, we always make each other laugh. Even if none of my textbook lessons stick, I hope that the slang and jokes I teach them in English do. I hope the memories do. I hope they look back fondly on our classes together.

My students are my saving grace. Sure, I have problem classes. I have classes that make me want to pull out my hair and cry and question why I put so much effort into a class that many people say does not matter. Still, even when my lessons are planned last-minute and I think they don’t make sense, my students reassure me. For them, I want to show up and do my best. For them, I keep working hard even when I’m uninspired. For them, I argue with my stricter co-teachers about activities, rewards, and movies. I argue about test content and grades, when I’m expected to have input in such things. I fight for them, because they are my motivation here. They make every inconvenience and struggle I face here in Korea worth it, and I am so lucky to get such wonderful kids for my first teaching experience.

If you’re looking into teaching and you’re nervous about it for the same reasons I was, give it a shot. The kids might just surprise you.