English Education

CHAPTER THE FIFTH

I woke up groggy, mildly confused, and definitely not in my own bed. But then I realized it was four in the morning, I was in Seoul, and this was my bed. I groaned and slammed my head into my pillow. Six hours stood between me and first real day on the job and I had no idea what to do with myself. Part of me thought about lesson planning. I had enough to go on based on our short conversations to get a solid two, three weeks if I pushed it. But no one in their right mind actually wants to plan lessons for strangers before the sun bothers to wake up. 

I groaned again as I tried to force my eyes shut and realized they just wouldn't stay closed. Throwing the covers off and shuffling out of bed, I decided to take inventory of the supplies that I had and figure out what else I needed.

And there I was, two hours later, surrounded by bulletin board paper, borders, posters, phoneme cards, alphabet signs, and more punch out letters than I could count. Ah yes. All teachers are hoarders of paper goods. Another hour later and I had everything sorted into, relevant-slash-put-up and keep just in case. 

Somehow, there were still three hours until my day was actually supposed to start. I grumbled as I shoved the classroom things I wasn't going to use on the top shelf of my closet. Staring at the clock and willing it to suddenly jump forward a few hours, I huffed out a breath and decided it might be a good idea to take stock of what schnazzy modern things this place had. 

The floor plan was a bit more open than what I was used to; four doors total, and a wide open space that was half kitchen, half living area. It was beautiful though. A whole wall of windows, looking out over the world itself. The kitchen was a long line of counter tops, turning into a crisp L on the right, and an island in the middle. I don't know if it was on purpose, but it had my favorite back splash: herringbone subway tile. The furniture was sparse. Two grey couchn either side of a black coffee table in the living area, three clear acrylic bar stools at the counter, and a black sofa table pushed under the television mounted on the wall. 

It was all very sharp and minimalist, hard edges and dark colors. Aside from the herringbone, the floors were my favorite, a warm wood with a dark stain. The little divots and deep-seated grain added the perfect amount of character to an otherwise empty-feeling space. Plopping down on one of the stiff, gray couches, I started planning out what exactly I wanted to do to the space. Art on the walls, a given. Comfier couches were high on the list. A rug on the floor was a must. I needed to unpack my burnt orange Kitchen Aide mixer, and the small selection of my mug collection I brought with me. Hufflepuff had to be represented, even if it was just in the form of painted porcelain.

So I set about about unpacking.

I hadn't brought much, just the necessities and things I was personally attached too. I had enough clothes for two weeks, two and a half if I pushed it, less shoes than I wanted, and as many beloved knick-knacks as I could fit. I had a carry-on filled with books and meticulously lined them up in the corner, their home until I could get a bookshelf. I had the quilt my grandmother bought me in Ireland, six out of the thirty-some mugs I had at home, my bare essential art supplies, and bathroom toiletries. 

It didn't take me long to get everything in place, blanket folded at the end of the bed, and mugs proudly displayed in the middle of the island. And that was it. That was all I had now. A little part of me twinged at the things I'd given up to run. Three tall bookshelves in my room. An overstuffed closet full of color. A shelf devoted to paint brushes and watercolors. Zoey and Nikki, the family dogs. Suddenly, it felt like too much, like maybe I'd made a mistake giving up everything I'd known just to find myself.

No, I shook myself. I did this for a reason. Even if I had to remind myself a thousand times. I did this for a reason. I packed up and left for a reason. I needed an escape. I need to leave. So I did. I pressed my fingertips against the bruise on my forearm as a reminder. I don't need to feel guilty about saving myself. I don't need to feel guilty about being me.

I took a deep breathe, proud of myself for swallowing back the evil little doubts niggling in the back of my mind. I was further pulled away from the depths of my mind when my phone dinged with an email. Eight twenty-seven. Still an hour and a half. Huffing, I swiped open the email and read.

Good morning Jane, 

I hope you slept well and are starting to adjust. Jae-Woo will be waiting in the car for you at 9:45. Today, the boys have back to back rehearsals, so most of the day will be yours to work as you please. The only thing that must be done by end of day is emailing me a list of all the things you need to get lessons up and running. 

Thank you,

Management

I smiled a the congenial but to-the-point way of speaking most of the staff had. Nice enough, but not playing around. Mentally double-checking the list I'd made this morning, I wrote a reply, asking for tables, chairs, a bookshelf, paper, pens, pencils, a few notebooks, and directions to the nearest teacher supply store. I was a sucker for cute stickers, signs, desk ornaments, and other classroom cuteness. 

Checking the clock again, I decided it was probably time to start lesson planning. Pulling out my laptop and opening a new document, I started turning my notes into plans and things to work on. Namjoon needed very little work, and if he really wanted to, didn't have to come to class. Jimin struggled similar and soft phonemes. Jungkook just needed to become a little more familiar with basic words and phrases so he didn't have to search as much. Jin need help with long vowels and consonant-vowel-consonant words. J-Hope also needed minimal work, becoming more familiar with common words and working on sharpening his consonant blends. Taehyung struggled with Rs, Ts, and smoothly blending everything together. His fluency was better than Jin and Jungkooks, he just needed some refining. 

And then there was Min Yoongi. Perfectly fluent, just accented. Barely any choppiness, just hard consonants that were a little too soft, and stumbling over a few L blends. There was also just, him in general. Such a complex and somewhat hidden person. No one really knew how fluent he was, and it made me wonder what other things he was too good at hiding. 

Lost in my thoughts, I almost forgot that I was still in pajamas and only had twenty minutes to make myself presentable. Jumping off the sofa and launching myself into my room, I pulled on the nicest pair of pants I owned, covered my hair in dry-shampoo, filled in my eyebrows at the speed of light, and tugged on one of the only decent blouses I brought with me. I had a minute to spare when I flopped down onto a bench just outside the complex and swiped on some mascara and tinted ChapStick. Not my best look, but still presentable.

Right on time, Jae-Woo pulled up, smiling as he waved to me. Then off we were, and off I was to dive head first into a brand new world.