"Teacher, I didn't study."

Today, I hugged at student for the first time. I don't mean just any hug that you would give for praise or silliness. I mean a hug of sincerity. Today, I took a closer step towards what it truly means to be a teacher.

Cindy is a 5th grader in my elementary Eagle Reading class on Mondays from 4-7pm. I am currently teaching the 9th week of the Spring term, therefore I have seen Cindy 9 times thus far. Each class is 3 hours long. Her class is a very big class with 15 students. Having that many students becomes distracting, therefore turning into the Shadiyah Show with me desperately trying to "teacher-tain". With all this said and done, I have very little one-on-one time with students. If I were decent at math, I would predict that my individual attention spent per student in this class could amount to 15 minutes.

Mondays are generally on cruise control. I only have one class, therefore I can exercise all my energy into this one 3 hour course and not be spent for a following middle school class from 7-10pm. Today, started as any other Monday. I arrived early to write homework answers on the board and wait for my students to filter in. I always get the usual...

"Teacher, I didn't finish my homework."

"Teacher, I wanna kill you."

"Teacher, I'm going to fail."

"Teacher, I didn't study."

Of course, these are all said in jokey fake attempts to tap into my pity. Cindy walked in a said, "Teacher, I didn't study." Knowing this phrase well, I brushed it off and smiled telling her that it would be alright. "Study now!" I usually let my students study for 15 minutes while I walk around checking homework. When I reached Cindy's desk, she again said "Teacher, I didn't study." I blew it off as the typical attempt for me to feel sorry for them. Right before I distributed the test, Cindy came up to my desk and tapped my shoulder asking for me to go outside. Teachers should never leave a class unattended especially an elementary level one.

I went right outside of my door and she instantly cupped her hands onto her face and started crying heavy heavy tears. "Teacher, I didn't study. Just give me a F." She said these words with such heavy sighs and sniffles. My heart felt like it was going to rip. I felt so bad for her. My eyes started to tear-up. My body felt like it lost its energy losing a couple seconds of breath. All I could do was rub her back. I then embraced her and told her not to worry. "This is just one test. Plus, everyone gets +2 because everyone did their homework." I told her that she was one of my best students, which she is. She always pays attention and answers questions even if I didn't ask her specifically. She always has a cheery attitude and is friendly with her classmates. During project presentations, she always tries to make it creative and believable. I could not imagine why such a bright student could feel so bad and so guilty about this one review test. This was one review test out of 13. It was one grade that fell into an average of other grades such as homework check, attention, participation, in-class quiz, Internet homework. In total, this one review test could account for 3% of her entire term.

She sobbed so hard. She carried so much guilt about one test that it manifested into tears in front of her teacher. I remember crying to my Chemistry of Art teacher in college and remember how embarrassing that was. I hope that she didn't feel embarrassed, but felt close enough to me that it was OK for her to cry. It breaks my heart to see my student feel so much pressure that she had to cry.

Korean parents expect so much of their children. It begins with learning English to get into an international middle school or high school. To do this, a student needs to pass the TOEFL. After this hoop, the student needs to have high marks to get into a good university. One would think a university degree is just that...a university degree good enough to get anyone a job. Koreans, however, feel that a "good university" leads to a "good job" that translates into "success."

I understood Cindy's frustration. She has multiple academies after school with massive amounts of homework for each. She has exams this week in public school. She has to sleep after midnight just to get all of her homework finished. I knew she didn't study because of laziness, but actual busyness. It makes me wonder, did she cry because of the possible wrath of her parents? Did she cry because she thinks she is letting me down? Did she cry because she is upset with her own failure to study?

I took her to the bathroom and wiped her tears away with tissue paper. She washed her face as I patted her face dry with a paper towel. Throughout this process, she hung her head and hid her face with her cupped hands. We walked back to the classroom door and I asked her one last time if she wanted water and if she was OK. She kept heaving and tearing. I finally asked her if she wanted one more hug, and she opened her arms and we embraced.

When we walked back into the class, all of the students became silent. I wish I could know what was going through Cindy's mind. I'm sure she felt embarrassed. The students immediately asked me why she was crying. I told them to stop looking at her, and to look at me. "I'm the pretty one!" Cindy sat down and they students all began their tests. More of the girls asked again why she was crying. "Because you smell bad!" I tried to distract them with jokes. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Once the tests were distributed, the students became silent and focused on their test. I watched Cindy from the corner of my eye while she laid her head on one propped hand. She ended up getting a B.

I have had hundreds of students since I've started teaching. As any teacher would, I have my favorites and my well...special ones with discipline issues. I will never forget either sides of the spectrum of students, but today was not about favorites. Cindy could have been a student I have wanted to strangle all term. She could have been like my own daughter. Nevertheless, today was about genuine compassion for a student.