"I feel like I need a shot."

It’s not often that I get to spend time with my 3rd graders. Or, I guess I can’t call them “mine” anymore, since I no longer teach them. They were my students last year, but I relinquished them in January to “have their lives eaten by the 수능.” Despite all of the rough patches we faced during my first semester of teaching, I am immoderately fond of my first class of Bugo students. I’ve missed them and worried about them as the pressure for the test increases.

This week I’ve been lucky: one of my former students came to me asking for an incredible favor. His request is not outstanding because of the work it requires on my part, but rather because of the extraordinary circumstances that require my assistance. He has made it through the first round of applications for the international college at Yonsei University, one of the most prestigious academic institutions in Korea. This Saturday he has round two of the application: an interview with professors at the school. The stakes are high: if he does well and is admitted, he doesn’t have to take the 수능. If he doesn’t, then he’ll have spent most of this week preparing for the interview instead of studying for the test, jeopardizing (in his mind) his results.

This 3rd grader, C.J.H., has one of the highest English levels at the school. He lived and studied in New Zealand for 6 months as a student and has had international aspirations ever since. Last year he approached me because he was volunteering as a translator at the local festival. I am confident that he is qualified for admission, but he is nervous because he has not had the opportunity to speak English for the last 8 months.

This week has been a crash-course for both of us. He’s never “taken an interview before,” as Koreans say, and I’ve never been solely responsible for coaching a student for an admissions interview. Each day he comes to me with a new piece of information about the interview: a potential topic, a type of question, the length of the interview. Each day our preparations have looked different: some free talking, some internet research together, some reading articles and discussing, some pure instruction in interviewing technique, etc.

Tomorrow will be our final day of preparation before he goes home for the weekend. I have a full mock interview planned. Instead of sitting on the couches in the English lounge, he’ll be seated behind a table. I’ll have a sample of every type of question we’ve discussed. He’ll be expected to introduce himself, sit up straight, make eye contact and thank me upon the completion of our interview. I think we’re both nervous for it.

I asked CJH how he was feeling about the interview. His answer “I feel like I need a shot.” We both laughed. He continued, “When I was a child, I didn’t want to get shots, but I knew I would get candy afterward. This interview is like that: I want it to be over, because I want the candy afterward: admission.”

Whether or not CJH nails the interview and gains admission to the school, I’m proud of him. I’ll have candy waiting for him at the end of our mock interview.

Only 28 days until the 수능.