How the Hagwon Industry in Seoul Broke Me

 I sometimes look back at the girl I used to be back in December 2020. We were in the thick of a global pandemic, but I was so happy. I just graduated with honors from university, and received the prestigious Fulbright Grant. I was so cocky and full of it. However, Covid-19 delayed the grant start date and I was left with an awkward 8-month hiatus and nothing to fill it. 

I decided to go back to Seoul, South Korea to teach English because it just seemed like the most whimsical experience ever. All of the odds seemed to be in my favor for the smoothest time of my life: I’ve studied abroad there before, they were seemingly doing well with covid restrictions, I have family and friends there to help me, I speak Korean, and I am familiar with the culture. What could possibly go wrong?

The first 8 months of 2021 were absolute torture, yet they were the most critical and life-changing 8 months of my life. 

When I first arrived in Seoul, I was contracted with an English School (we will call them School A) to teach English there. It was an after-school academy (In Korea, we call them “hagwons”). My hours were 2 pm - 11 pm every Monday through Friday. At first, it didn’t seem daunting. However, the administration proved to be more and more inadequate by the day. They would manipulate us into thinking our workload was less than what it was, directions were unclear, and the toxic environment was too much for me to bear. They watched us constantly on CCTV cameras; every move I did, every word I said. I didn’t have much of a fulfilling life outside of work, and this was not a lifelong career for me to have. It just didn’t seem worth it to me. I set up a meeting with my manager and presented a resignation letter to him, giving the company 17 days to find and train my replacement. 

My manager and principal were outraged and took this action incredibly personally. At first, they screamed and yelled at me. They called me names, and insulted me. They told me I was worthless, unprofessional, weak, young, inexperienced. They said anybody would be crazy to hire someone like me. They knew all of my weak points and exposed them. They said my parents would be disappointed in how I was behaving. They threatened to write posts and blogs about me, they threatened to sue me, and I allowed them to say all of this to me. In the last 17 days to follow, every afternoon before work, they called me in to insult and yell at me some more. Every night after work, they called me in to yell at me again. 

They stalked my social media account and would manipulate photos and videos so it looked like I said horrible things about them, and then sued me for defamation. They also refused to pay me for my work. My heart and stomach felt like they were in knots. How could I face a large-scale company? I’m just one person. What would I even do about a lawyer? What 22 year old has a lawyer on retainer? Should I just give up the paycheck they owe me to avoid this conflict? 

One night, I was crying myself to sleep when I received a phone call from a coworker. I didn’t know this coworker very well so I avoided contact in case they were on my manager’s side and could blackmail me. That was another aspect I hated so much; being suspenseful of everyone at work and not knowing who was a real friend. After confirming it was safe to talk to him, he told me that he’s on my side and encouraged me to keep going in the lawsuit. 

“Sunny, no one has been able to stand up to School A. They’re trying to consume you.” 

It was such a spooky coincidence, because earlier that day, I taught the vocabulary word “consumable.” And it means “something that is intended to be used up quickly.” And from then on, I wasn’t going to let them consume me. Sunny Kim isn’t someone who can be brought down that quickly. 

During the peak of my lawsuit, I interviewed and found a different job that seemed to be more fitting of my schedule. Let’s call this school School B. Once parents of School B looked at my name (Sunny Kim) and my photo, a group of them went to the principal and demanded another teacher to replace me. They said I looked “too Korean” to teach native English. They threatened School B that they pay too much money for their children to be taught English by another Korean. My recruiter called me one day before work and delivered this horrible news to me. Now I have a lawsuit AND no stable income source. School B didn’t even call me personally to apologize or explain the situation. I remember walking to School A and receiving this call; I broke down immediately on the sidewalk. I was sobbing and shaking. I’ve never been refused a job because of what I looked like, and it felt like shit. 

Yet, for 17 days, I endured School A’s insults and held up my end of the bargain. After I left, they still didn’t pay me so I counter sued the school. I was scared, but my coworkers encouraged me to make this power move. 

“They think you’re young and naive, and they want to scare you into not suing them,” is what a coworker told me. “Use this to your advantage.”

School A paid me as soon as my lawyer sent the fax. 

When the lawsuit business was taken care of, I interviewed and found another school within 24 hours (we will call this school School C). 

School C was infinitely better in a lot of ways. However, I was fresh out of this traumatic incident, and I was scared to death that they would fire me because I looked too Korean or sue me for something that I did. 

So I was incredibly submissive. I did EVERYTHING the manager wanted me to do. I came in early. I stayed late. I prepared games. I took photos of EVERYTHING to cover myself in case of an emergency. I was paranoid to the max. 

Unfortunately, my manager picked up on this and took advantage of my abnormal obedience. 

She gave me more and more classes. She picked on me more and more. 

She yelled and scolded me for every mistake I’ve ever made. 

It was so severe that other foreign and korean coworkers observed why this manager only targeted me and only maltreated me. 

During the first week of my time at School C, the school received a plethora of calls from angry parents demanding why a Korean teacher was teaching English to their children. The administration showed them my American passport, as well as English credentials and resume, but the parents were so displeased with my outer appearance. 

My teaching experience didn’t matter, my bright and outgoing personality didn’t matter, my Fulbright award didn’t matter, but my appearance did. 

The parents argued that the Korean teachers all have black hair and “Sunny Teacher” also has black hair, so it is confusing. My manager came to me and said, “Teacher, I don’t know what to do. I have so many calls. I wish you could have a different hair color.” 

That weekend, I made an appointment and paid $400 to dye my hair a brighter, blonde color. 

Besides the hair color, I developed horrible anxiety attacks because of my manager. I believe she was bitter about dealing with the angry parents on my behalf and took it out on me. Or my coworkers believed she was just angry about me being Korean AND American. Regardless of the reason, she had some sort of personal vendetta against me. 

There was a time I forgot to make a copy for a student who forgot their book at home. My manager took me out of class and screamed at me in the hallway. I tried to apologize and tell her I will never do it again and that I didn’t know beforehand. She told me not to look at her. How dare I look at her. How dare I apologize when it doesn’t fix my mistake. I remember that experience because I was staring at my shoes the whole time. I felt like a puppy dog that just got kicked. It was shameful and embarrassing and hot tears came out of my eyes automatically. I wish I had the courage to say, “you can’t talk to me that way!” But I didn’t. Again, I allowed someone else to mistreat me. 

After almost 7 months of this, I decided to stop working in Korea altogether. I realized I can’t heal in the place that broke me in the first place. It stung that the country that was supposed to welcome and accept me didn’t. It stung that I had so much anxiety going to work.  It stung that I jumped or my heart raced whenever my manager called or messaged me. It stung that my manager called me names when I didn’t deserve it. 

I have some personal takeaways from working in Seoul. First, the hagwon industry should be banned completely. No one is happy; not the kids, not the teachers, not the staff, not the parents. The students are so overworked and stressed. The teachers are mistreated. The managers are power-hungry and selfish. It’s not a win-win situation. 

As for me on a personal level, this experience broke me down. However, I realized how much of a hypocrite I was. I had everyone fooled into thinking I was so confident, so sure of myself. This experience revealed how much I ALLOW other people to treat me like I’m less than. Now, I don’t let people talk to me condescendingly. I don’t allow people to call me names when I don’t deserve them. I walk away from situations or people if they don’t serve me. 

Secondly, I learned that it’s okay to apologize ONLY for things I need to apologize for. I used to apologize for all of the little things in life (e.g. “I’m sorry I’m late!”) but in reality, I need to watch my language and only apologize when I mess up. 

Thirdly, I learned that I am never stuck. I have the power to change my situation if I want to. When I was considering leaving School À, I really didn’t want to because I did not want to be seen as a “quitter.” I felt stuck. But I wasn’t. It was hard leaving but ultimately, I became happier. 

I want to thank my friends and coworkers. My coworkers were there physically when shit hit the fan. When School A verbally abused me for the first time, the first person I saw when I walked out of the office was another coworker who embraced me. I had coworkers bring me coffee on days when it was hard to get out of bed. I had coworkers go on walks with me to talk through certain anxiety attacks. It was my coworkers who gave me strength. 

I also have amazing friends who were back in the States when I was going through this terrible time. I remember calling my best friends Danielle, Helen, Kayla, and Lily for hours and hours. I would just cry and they would allow me to rant, verbally process, and then remind me of who I am. That I am not the insults my managers call me, that I am who they see me for. 

I would be nothing without these friends. I am forever in debt to them.

I had a terrible experience working in my home country, but after A LOT of therapy (lol), I am so thankful this happened to me. I am thankful I can go back to America and work my real career as a genuinely strong and secure person. I am glad I will be able to stand up for myself unapologetically and I am grateful to have that confidence.