Fish Out of Water

Marco! Polo! Marco! Polo! Fish out of water! A classic childhood game, one that most of us have either played or heard about. It’s also a common English idiom that means a lack of sense of belonging or to feel out of place. Marco Polo is also the first American game I taught my students to play when I was teaching English in South Korea. This idiom, fish out of water, is generally associated with a negative connotation. However, being a fish out of water isn’t necessarily always bad. In fact, when a fish is in a body of stagnant, oxygen-deprived water for a while, the fish will jump out of the water in order to get oxygen from the air. Similarly, being out of our comfort zone (as a fish out of water) for a period of time can prove to be actually beneficial.

Imagine, if you will, you are a bilingual in the United States, but you are not allowed to speak, read, or write English. You are only allowed to communicate in your other language and must pretend that you do not know English at all. That was the scenario I faced while I was teaching English in Korea. As a bilingual Korean American, most people assume I would be an ideal candidate for an English teacher position in Korea. However, this was to my disadvantage. Koreans can be superficially vain when hiring. They believe that an East Asian will be ineffective as an English teacher because the students will naturally assume that person can speak Korean and will only speak to the teacher in Korean when the students should be speaking in English. Most schools and programs prefer someone who doesn’t look East Asian. So it was very difficult for me to find a English teacher position in South Korea. After some time, I was eventually able to find a position but had one additional clause in my contract that most teachers wouldn’t have.

I was not allowed to let the students or parents know I understood Korean. I could not answers questions asked in Korean, could not read a student’s answer that was in Korean, could not speak a word of Korean in front of the students. That was the condition they gave as part of my offer. I agreed, thinking it wouldn’t too much of a challenge.

I taught from kindergartners to eighth grade, being the only native English teacher there, and all my classes were informed that I was South Korean but didn’t understand Korean. Let me tell you something about Korean students. American kids can be spoiled and privileged, but Korean kids they are cunning brats who love to get away with murder and will try to outwit you. They keep you on your toes intelligently. My very first class, which was a sixth grade class, within the first ten minutes, they were already testing me and seeing how far they can get away with stuff and to see if I truly didn’t know Korean.

I introduced myself to the class. Good morning, students. My name is Jay and I am from the United States from a state called Florida. Everyday I will start class with a good morning class, and I want you to respond Good Morning, Jay. Let’s try it, shall we. Good morning, class!

Afterwards, one of the girls comes skipping up to me with a big smile on her face. She has her hair in a ponytail and smiles even wider when she approaches me. She introduces herself, “Hello, Jay teacher. My name is Jisoo. Nice to meet you. Do you know Korean, Jay teacher”

I respond, “Nice to meet you too, Jisoo. No, I don’t know any Korean. Perhaps you can teach me some later on.”

Her face lights up as she thinks of a spontaneous idea. “Oh, yes I like idea. I teach you Korean! Teacher, do you know what gae-saek-gi mean?” The whole class giggles at this, and I’m internally rolling my eyes.

I smile back at her and shake my head, “No I don’t know what it means.”

“Oh teacher, it means pretty. Teacher, I think you’re gae-saek-gi.” The whole class can’t contain it anymore and starts snickering and laughing. Without missing a beat, I tell Jisoo, “Aww, Jisoo, you’re gae-saek-gi too!” This time, the entire class burst out laughing loudly, some rolling on the floor. Jisoo turns bright red and stomps back quickly to her seat. You see, gae-saek-ki essentially means crazy bastard. This is how I started my class of the year.

As time passed by and they realized I was a hard target to outwit, they tested me less and less. They still would like to pull the wool over my eyes now and then, but I usually turned the tables on them. For example, one day when I was giving them a unit test, they started talking to each other in Korean. This was right in front of me, and they didn’t even bother keeping their voices quiet. “Hey, hey what did you get for question five? How did you answer the fill in the blank question? Man, she made some unnecessarily hard questions.” They had the nerve to cheat right in front of me and didn’t even make an effort to do it subtly. I instructed, “Pencils down! Get out another sheet of paper!” The whole class kicks up a fuss and looks up innocently at me. “But teacher, why? We did nothing!” We were good!” I made them write I will not talk at all during tests one hundred time and had them redo the entire test.

Halfway through the school year during wintertime, my father came to Korea to visit me and wanted to come to work with me one day. My parents knew of the no Korean condition and I reminded my father of this again numerous times that day. Remember, apa, I have to pretend I don’t know any Korean. So you can’t talk to me in Korean and I won’t be responding to you in Korean. He brushes me off saying “Yes, yes, I got it. Don’t worry so much. They’ll never know.” Do you know the very first thing he does in my class? He says hi to my second grade class in Korean and starts chatting with them in non-stop Korean. Luckily, none of my students mentions anything or seem to think it’s strange that he’s speaking fluent Korean. Until we start wrapping up class. One of my students raises his hand and asks, “Ahjussi, ahjussi, mister, mister. Jay sunsangnim ---- Why doesn’t Jay teacher know Korean?” I’m panicking now because I imagine my father forgetting my one condition and spilling the secret that I kept for several months. He pauses a moment to think and scratch his head. He looks at the class and in a serious voice responds in Korean, “Well, kids, you see, when Jay teacher was just a tiny baby, ahjussi unfortunately dropped her on her head … several times.” What was worse was my students’ reply. “Ohhh, I see. That makes a lot of sense. I thought it was something like that.”

I’ll admit there were several times where I almost slipped up and started to speak Korean but caught myself at the very last second. I wanted to check if my fifth grade class did their homework, and began to ask sucheck hae ni? So did you guys do your homework this weekend? Some of my other students may have had their suspicions but nothing concrete. In the end, I was able to fulfill my contract.

On the very last day of school, I threw all of my classes a pizza party and had some activities set up. Just as Marco Polo was one of the first games I taught them, it was one of the last ones we played. I still had one final surprise for my students.

Korean

Students, it was a pleasure teaching you over this past year. I was happy to be your teacher. You guys made sure I never had a dull moment and I will miss you guys, especially you, Jisoo. Continue to study and work hard, and I hope to see you guys again in the future one day. Take care.

You should have seen the looks on their faces when they realized I actually knew Korean. All of their jaws dropped to the floor at the same time and their eyes widen in shock. They just stared for a moment and then the panicked commotion started. Oh my god, she knows Korean. I knew it! I knew it! Oh, do you think she understood everything? Do you think she remembered when I lied about my homework and said the real reason in Korean?

They all panicked when they realized I understood every complaint and secret they said in Korean. I was able to have the very last word and pull the wool over their eyes one last time.

It can be frustrating and confusing to feel like a fish out of water, especially when it’s at a place that you consider home. No one wants to feel out of place, but when we are pushed out of our comfort zones, compelled to face a novel situation, or test our boundaries, that’s when we truly get to discover something new about our inner strength and ourselves. You may be pleasantly surprised by how much you can endure or what you can accomplish. So, I encourage you to take a chance, do something completely unexpected, and be a fish out of water. Because you never know what you can do until you do it.