4
Hagwon Expansion
On Friday afternoon, Yun and Mido were in Mido’s office, waiting for Lion to drive down from Cypress and for Peter to finish teaching his Advanced SAT Math class.
After a quick teachers’ meeting, the four of them would head back to Yun and Lion’s house.
The band had to rehearse, and Mido would hang out with them.
“How’s your father?” Yun asked. Having unrolled the yoga mat over the office rug, she was doing her daily sit-ups.
“Umma says that Manager John Koh is the most polite and private human being to walk the earth. She’s with him six days a week, including a round-trip car ride, and knows almost nothing about him. He could be CIA for all we know.”
Mido smiled in recognition. She unknotted the blue cardigan around her neck and pulled it on over her white dress shirt.
“Between your mother and me, he’s fed and alive.
By the time I get home from work, he’s reading the newspaper or getting ready for bed.
Once or twice a week, he has meetings at church.
On Fridays and Saturdays, I get home even later, which makes it hard for me to check on him.
I think he has a church Finance Committee meeting tonight?
I know he eats whatever I leave in the fridge because there are washed empty containers and dishes on the rack when I get home. ”
“That’s a relief.”
On Sunday afternoons and Wednesday nights, Mido prepared rice, entrées, and the side dishes that her father liked and packed them up in glass containers for her father to reheat.
On Saturday afternoons, Bo came home to help with the grocery shopping and cleaning.
They’d have dinner together, and Bo would stay over.
On Sundays, DH joined them at church, and the three of them took their father to lunch.
John was most like his old self at church and on Sundays when the three of them were home. During the week, Mido could see how difficult things still were for him without their mother, but how hard he tried to keep going.
At work, he was determined to show a strong profit each quarter for his sister-in-law’s business, even though Sonya never said a word about money.
Every month, he made the house mortgage payments and set aside money to pay Sonya back.
John kept a ledger and a separate savings account for the down payment, Helen’s hospital bills, and the loan to move to the States—a tally of their debts to Sonya and her husband’s family.
He had promised Helen that he would pay them off.
Working at a nail salon full of women had made him feel conspicuous. Their attention embarrassed him, and John had only grown more formal with everyone, deferring to Nari to deal with any personnel issues.
“How’s your mom?” Mido asked, marveling at how many sit-ups Yun could do. She had stopped counting after a hundred. After sit-ups, Yun moved on to push-ups.
“She’s good. Every morning when I call her, she says the same thing: ‘Thank God, no more Shrimp Castle headaches.’ She’s never wanted to own a business, so Rose Salon is perfect, where she gets to be the queen without any of the risk.
Plus your dad likes doing the numbers, so she’s happy not to have that responsibility, either.
As long as there are drama videos to rent, she says, she can live in America forever.
She doesn’t even talk about returning to Seoul anymore. ”
After ten push-ups, Yun got in position to plank, her willowy frame forming a straight line from the crown of her head to her toes.
“Time me?”
Mido scribbled “5:42 p.m.” on a scratch pad. She never wore a watch anymore. With a large wall clock in every room at Fortress, including the bathrooms, it was impossible for anyone to disregard time.
“She misses Appa, but she doesn’t miss fighting with him.” Yun kept her head parallel to the floor.
“Do you think he’ll return?”
“No.”
“Really?” Mido knew that Yun’s mother thought he would.
“I know. I know. I hope he does, for her sake.”
“You don’t want him to come back?”
“Of course I want him to, but who knows if he’ll stay? We weren’t worth sticking around for last time.”
Yun’s disappointed profile grew stern and her plank form more straight. Without any makeup on her tanned oval face, her long dark hair in a ponytail, Yun still looked like one of Mido’s high school students. “His loss. Not mine.”
Mido had met Yun’s father a number of times but never had a conversation with him beyond polite greetings. He was the opposite of Nari, the chatty mother who was always interested in her daughter’s friends.
Joonho was considerably taller than Yun and Nari and well built with powerful arms. He had a striking face, his face usually brown from the sun, and he shared the distinct features of the generations of Kim farmers from Gyeongju: the dark, sloping eyes, which crinkled when he smiled, and the elegant nose.
What Mido couldn’t forget about her friend’s father was the time he hit Yun in the face, and how she couldn’t go to school.
He’d never hit her before, Yun told her later, and he’d felt so terrible that he’d stayed away from home for days.
He never hit her again, but whenever he was upset with her or Nari, he’d disappear without explanation.
This time it was Brazil. Six years. When he was ashamed, he hid.
He loved them; he just loved his shame more.
“I’m not mad at him.”
“I didn’t think you were,” Mido said.
“We’ve had our share of fights, but I know he’s a decent person.” Her voice started to waver from the strain of her plank pose.
“Time?” Yun said.
“Three minutes.”
Yun collapsed on her stomach and exhaled. “Hey, where are these guys?” She glanced at the clock over the door, then pulled herself up and reached into her tote bag for some folders. Exercise over, she was all business once more.
“So, twenty-two more kids signed up for the spring boot camp. Several want private essay counseling, and I think once you meet them, probably all of them will want you. How many can you take?”
“I can handle maybe six to eight more. Maybe ten tops. It depends.” Mido shrugged.
“You’re everyone’s favorite. The mothers are trying to keep you a secret, but they all share your name with their closest friends.
As long as their kids are not in the same grade level, that is.
” Yun laughed. They were continually astonished by what parents were willing to do to give their children an edge over their friends’ children.
“Maybe Peter wants a few?” Mido asked. “He’s a good writer.”
“Peter said he’ll take private tutoring for math, but the college admissions stuff makes his skin crawl.”
“Yup, I could have predicted that.”
“Why does he hate it so much?” Yun asked.
“He hates the competition. For him, the math stuff is worth teaching. All the angling to get your kid into the best schools and paying the extra fees makes him want to hurl. His words.”
“Against capitalism and authority. Once a punk, always a punk,” Yun said, repeating Lion’s assessment of his bandmate. “I can’t figure out why he still works here.”
“He likes kids and teaching,” Mido said. “I asked him if he’d teach at a real school—public or private—but he said never. Peter says, ‘A hagwon is only supplemental. Real school is a serious responsibility.’ ”
Mido rode in Peter’s car to Yun and Lion’s house.
“I fired Mr. Shim,” Peter said.
“What? He just started.”
Peter kept his eyes focused on the traffic ahead.
“He was using copies of the SAT tests that you’re not supposed to have. He said he had to use them and that we were naive not to. Lion said no way, and he’s right.”
“When did you fire him?”
“Earlier this morning. I should’ve called you, but it was very last minute. I figured you didn’t want to be involved.”
Mido hated firing people, and Peter knew that.
She sighed. “I think everyone has them now. One of the mothers asked why we’re not teaching with them.”
“What did you say?” Peter signaled before taking a left. The side roads were less busy but darker.
“I said that the kids needed to learn how to do the work. They’ll be better off for it. Right?”
“Fucking crazy parents. I’m so tired of this shit.”
“Not all of them want their kids to have those tests. I mean, I understand why they’d be upset since so many other kids can study from them at the other hagwons.”
“They can go there. Mr. Shim can go. If that’s what you got to do to get your kid a perfect score, then fine. I’m not doing it.”
“I know you’re right,” Mido said, “but I understand why everyone’s freaked out. They think they’re at a disadvantage because the other kids will have seen the exam questions and be able to memorize the answers without solving the questions.”
“Listen to you. You sound like Mr. Shim.”
“No, no. I just said I understand. These parents are really worried.”
“Life’s not fair, but it doesn’t mean that you teach kids to cheat.
What, they’re going to keep getting tests ahead of time in college?
At work? How can you learn to handle shit you didn’t anticipate?
We’re supposed to give the kids the tools to solve problems. Not give them the answers for specific problems. That makes no fucking sense. ”
“Hey, hey. I’m not Mr. Shim.”
Peter parked along the road.
“I’m sorry I’m yelling. I just had this conversation with Lion earlier, and he said basically what you said, and I lost my shit. I almost quit.”
“Huh? You mean Lion didn’t agree with you?”
“No. It was his idea to fire him when he found out, but he said we’re going to take a hit because our students won’t do as well as kids from hagwons that teach from the illegal tests.”
“Can we report this?”
“Too hard to prove. Besides, Mr. Shim is just another poor dude who’s providing for his family. He’s got two little kids and a wife at home. And this is why people hate fucking hagwons. They think we’re all cheaters.”
“I heard anyone can get the illegal tests.”