The Black Barbie Chronicles: Black Barbie is Angry Teacher

angyr teacher

You ever have one of those days where you just have had enough from some people’s offspring and want to throw up your hands and say screw it. Well, those days were few in Korea but there was this one time when I had had it. Mind you I was still pretty new to the country, about a month, but that day was the last straw. Enjoy and laugh at my pain!

F. M. Laster

“I’ve been things and seen places.”- Mae West

Black Barbie Teacher is Angry Teacher

 I like my job. No, I love my job. It could be because I don’t have a real job, job. I sit on my pretty ass, look pretty, and talk when commanded to. That’s it, folks. Now, this I take seriously which is why I come to work sober and never hungover. Like asshole kids around the world, some of my kids really like me and in turn, I like them. My kiddies teach me a lot about Korea and I try to have them unlearn the crap they learned about America the day before. Some days I feel like a real live version of The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. Today’s tale is about my day starting off with The Bad.

My first class on Mondays is my 3rd graders or 8th graders if we are using US standards level course. I have 4 students whom sort of suck. By “sort of suck”, I mean these fuckers are royal pains in my ass. There is one of the four, I like, but he can’t speak or understand English to save his life. However, the kid shuts the hell up and listens. That’s all I require; do that and you have a friend for life.

As for the other three, The Trifecta from Hell, they are a different breed of animal. They speak out of turn, they speak in Korean, and they point and laugh at me. All of these things are big no-no’s. So for each class, The Trifecta do whatever the fuck they feel like. There are days when I want to take them, stuff them in trash cans, and roll their asses down the stairs. Now I have no doubt this would make the best story ever, I feel that this action would get me arrested and deported. Hmm…goals.

While walking into school today, The Trifecta approaches me. One of the fuckers comes running toward me yelling the word I hate “teacher”, “teacher”. Two of the trio has some treat in their hands which they promptly wave at me, asking “you want?!?!” Before I could respond, they put the food in their mouth and pass it back asking if I still want it.

It was at this time, I was seriously contemplating how bad Korean jails were. I was so close to not only slapping the food out of their hands but also the taste out of their mouths. Do you have any clue how hard a slap is to slap the taste out of someone’s mouth? That’s a hard slap. I said to myself, “ Jesus, take the wheel” and let it pass. Technically it was outside of class and not in, so I gave them a pass; providing they bring their asses to class and shut the fuck up.

It wouldn’t be a Black Barbie tale if some other shit did not happen, and more shit did happen. Instead of coming into the class, the head Trifecta Prick decided to continue to wave his food in my face asking me if I want some. I told him no and for him to come to me so I could admonish him away from his peers. Well, readers, he told me no. No, like I gave him an option. He chatted with his buddies some more in Korean all the while laughing in my face and waving his food.

Now, I had a couple of choices to make at this point. One, I could beat the crap out of the kid for the level of disrespect or slam the damn door on my class, find a Korean teacher and let the teacher sort this shit out. Thinking about Korean jails, I elected to do the latter.

So after slamming the door and leaving the kiddies confused as fuck, I went in search of a teacher who would not only crush their souls but bleed them dry. Turns out I didn’t have to go far. I went next door to the coaches. Now, they are fine as hell but with little to no English ability. I knock on the door to get some help; I’m using limited Korean and hand signals, but the older, and in my opinion, sexier of the coaches gets the picture.

Before I can say boo, the older of the two is out the door and slamming open the door to the English classroom. All I hear is a lot of Korean, a lot of it very loudly, and I witness lot of kids with bowed heads. He selects one of my Trifecta Fuckery Kids (I am guessing he knows his asshole kids), makes him come to the front of the class. He’s yelling at the kid in Korean, pointing to me and then pointing to the class. I’m getting the idea that Coach is looking for a snitch and the kid’s not snitching. Big mistake!

Coach yells some more and slaps the kid hard in the face, like a pimp. Coach Pimp. Now I’m in awe and shock at this point. I thought about doing that same thing, but never thought I would actually see it in action. A part of me felt sorry for the kid, but another part felt good; the bastard deserved it. The poor kid still can’t say anything because Coach is debasing him, yelling at him, and slapping this kid in the face. Damn!

Finally, Coach asks him to speak and he names his other two partners in crime real quick; hell I’d do the same. Coach yells at them from the front of the room, then has the kids crawl to me, bow, and say I’m sorry over and over in Korean. Coach smiles and makes The Trifecta Bunch kneel in the corner, facing the wall, with their hands over their heads. He looks at me, says “it’s okay. I talk the boys. They will be good.” He smiles bows and I bow back saying thank you in Korean. Hell, at that point I too did not want to feel the hand of Coach Pimp! I didn’t have an issue with the Trifecta Bunch later that day. I guess putting up with abuse for a month was enough to push me over the edge. Hell, if I knew how easy it was to nip the problem, I would have had the kids bitch slapped a long time ago!

You know, being the only foreign teacher in a school full of Koreans is at times a double-edged sword. On one side of the sword, people treat you like you are so fucking special! They fawn over you, take you out, show you off, and lavish you with compliments on how beautiful and handsome you are. However, on the other side of that damn sword, people, teachers, and students don’t respect you because you are a foreigner. Sadly, these are the types of Koreans who can’t see the beauty within themselves. They are the ones who go into massive debt to look more like you. Well, more like Caucasians at least… the rest of us not so much. Ignorance and racists never made much sense to me. There are morons everywhere, so I usually try to not let it bother me.

Granted my day could have started better, but at least the problem was fixed and the rest of the day was better after the fuck up earlier. Jason, one of my favorite students, because he does what I tell him to, made a weird hand gesture, slapped his hip and walked off. Now after the crap I had to deal with earlier, I called the fucker back to find out what he did. Once bitten, twice shy I was to any child doing anything I don’t recognize. He did it again and said “hip-hop teacher” and skipped down the hall. It’s the little things that make my day.

 

 

 

 

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