"We study for English test."
"What else are you doing this weekend?"
"Nothing."
Usually, this sort of exchange would evoke a feeling of something between exasperation and resignation from any decent ESL/EFL teacher: "Just learn the damn vocab words already - how hard is it to say, 'I'm going to the mall?!'" However, in mid-December, a response of this kind (linguistically lazy as it may be) is not far from the truth in Korea. It's final exam time, baby!
Korea's educational system is a curious hybrid of Eastern and Western influences. By no means am I an expert; it would take many years of research (and a hefty grant, if anyone is really interested) to really understand the cultural, economic, and political gametes that birthed this curious creature. But, as a hagwon teacher whose assigned homework is constantly neglected in favor of test preparation, I have had some interesting encounters with this beast.
Standardized testing has not been popular in the U.S. for as long as I can remember. This is somewhat to my chagrin, because I did pretty well on tests in school (with the notable exception of anything involving mathematics). The argument generally proceeds something like this:
"Who made the tests? Are they prejudiced against certain socioeconomic groups? How do you know kids from different schools will be properly prepared for the test? Will we have to reorganize an entire year's curriculum? Why should a few hours with a bubble sheet and #2 pencil trump months of classroom experience and active learning? Tests don't really measure how smart a kid is, or how much s/he has learned anyway. This just measure how well a kid can take a test."
That sort of logic has not made its way to Korea just yet. Tests of all kinds are hugely important here. Korea is in the midst of a massive capitalism binge, and if there's one thing that capitalism loves, it's raw numbers. Numbers aren't subjective, numbers don't lie, numbers don't force you to muddle into that misty grey area between "good" and "bad". Everything can be smoothly quantified to aid analysis of future success:How many answers did you get wrong? How many did you get right? How many students scored below (or above) you? Standardized tests provide neat, tidy answers to these neat, tidy questions.
On one hand, it seems like this approach makes sense. Korea has gone from a struggling backwater noted worldwide only for a brief conflict between Communism and Democracy in the 1950s (even that war was dubbed "Forgotten" in the American lexicon) to one of the world's most rapidly growing economies. Companies like Samsung, LG, and Hyundai have accumulated Scrooge McDuckian profits thanks to graduates of the test-focused Korean educational system. Which, coincidentally, is closely related to the Chinese educational system. And it seems like China has made the news once or twice for its economic growth...
So if there is a Sonata in every car-port and rice in every wok, what's the problem? Why argue with success? After all, it's not like the U.S. educational system is getting many gold stars for its effectiveness lately. Every month you can open the newspaper and see another alarming statistic - American middle schoolers are #25 in the world in reading comprehension, kindergarteners are 64th in math, U.S. universities are producing fewer biophysicists than Lichtenstein, etc.
But Korean education (and society in general) is about to encounter some serious challenges of its own. I hear it from friends studying architecture at Korean universities - students are so focused on achieving top marks that they'd rather copy the designs of established architects than attempt to create an original design of their own. I hear it from Korean students recently returned from studying abroad - they're no longer encouraged to be creative, but rather to imitate precisely crafted formulas for reports, essays, and projects. I hear it from Korean educators themselves - plagiarism is so widespread that it's not even considered a problem. It would be like a fish complaining that the ocean is too wet.
In short, it seems likely that in the next few decades Korea will be suffering from a serious shortage of creativity. Much like Japan, whose insanely propserous 1980s and 1990s gave way to a new millennium marked by a sluggish economy and nation-wide existential funk, Korea will have to decide if its emphasis on memorization and imitation (so useful for creating a short term economic boom) can be adapted to achieve long term success. When the old ideas cease to be profitable, who will come up with new ones? A nation needs mechanical engineers, to be sure, but it also needs dreamers.
When my kindergarteners color pictures in their workbook, I let them know it's OK to be silly. Sometimes their creations are quite imaginative - women with gigantic purple beehive hairdos, fire-breathing giraffes with wings, restaurant menus with arms and legs. Other times, they draw big steaming piles of poop all over the page.
I like to think I'm doing my part to inspire the future creative geniuses of Korea.
