Schooled

Yesterday, I was talking to a Korean mother who wants me to tutor her 9th grader in English and writing. When describing her child's educational needs, literally one of the first words out of her mouth were: SAT. 

I have to say, I'm qualified to do the job—I was a writing tutor in college, after all. I consider myself a decent writer. And I've had some great experiences tutoring kids in reading and writing.

But as I described in my essay 'Being Korean' in December, I again witnessed the Korean academic competitiveness in full display, here in the States. It doesn't matter what the daughter wants—standardized tests are what matters.

I also had a separate conversation with a group of friends yesterday—about growing up in Pleasanton, where the pressure to do well in high school (take AP classes, etc) combined with the emphasis on going to college can result in a lot of pressure on adolescents.

‘It was rough,’ my friend and I said at one point, though we followed that up with a deep laugh.

“It was totally rough staring at the mountains, having all that sunshine and clear sky. It was rough being encouraged to go to college,” we said sarcastically. We had a great little chuckle.

Here I am, imploring you to tell mothers of teenagers you know, to consider the alternative—actual happiness. Because contrary to societal wisdom, no long-term goal can be accomplished through a test. A test is short-term thinking—that is why such highly-gifted kids who score highly on tests can crash and burn in college.

Let me digress into an example. I’ve been watching ‘Kpop Star 4,’ a Korean version of American Idol, these days. Most of the contestants are younger than 22, and I’m constantly inspired by their effort and resolve to make it in the singing world. In a culture that discourages independent thinking and alternative careers, these kids are chasing their dreams—however impractical that might be. You know how hard that is?

Imagine an entire society fixated on test scores—on making it to higher education. How are you supposed to survive as an artist if you have to deal with constant academic and familial pressure? Imagine constructs you cannot change trying to funnel you and shape you into a person you are not. And it’s wonderfully adequate in producing high math and science scores in K-12 education and creating scores of highly-educated citizens.

But is it adequate in producing happy people? What kind of educational system could boast quantitative improvement in the mental health of each student? Maybe intelligence is tied to emotional health. Maybe IQ flourishes in a low-stress environment. Maybe learning can take root when students are comfortable and fed in all senses of the word.

But I watch this show and I’m constantly put to tears by these poignant ballads. Because happiness is worth fighting for—it’s worth singing for. Sometimes you have to ignore the noise of society and listen to the voice inside. 

Sing on, kids. Worry not about test scores. Worry not at all. Dream, and dream about everything that could be—of tying yourself to your destiny and not to that of others. Their voices cry and cry out for recognition—and a simple nod will suffice. I see you. I hear you. You’re there. You’re a person. You exist outside of others’ expectations.

In the words of Ali Shaheed Muhammad of A Tribe Called Quest, if you can understand the struggle, you can say: “Yo, I’m riding with that—and I wanna fight for that.”