When looking back through my past for the things that have forced me to grow up, a single memoir of my first work pops up. During the 2010s, numerous institutions and restaurants by the name of 'kid café's popped up all over the nation. It was a craze, a fad for young mothers. The kid cafes, which are registered by law as 'restaurants', provide fancy meals and a wide space for children to play in. After receiving my admission notice from HUFS and several other universities, I was eager to earn money – tuition and other miscellaneous living costs – and naturally, I took an interview at a kids café located in Shinlimdong. They advertised that they provided English programs and English teachers – including Caucasians.
My first interview was lousy – there was no other way to put it. I wore jeans and a sweater to the interview, and not much makeup because I was merely 18 and not even out of high school. The head of the institution was picky, saying things like "why do you wear glasses? Why do you not put on lipstick? The children like pretty teachers, not ones that look as if they study all night." The statement was offensive, but I couldn't help it – I was the one in need of money and a job. I was hired anyhow for my career – which included teaching English at community centers and interpreting at hospitals – and I was asked to come the next day.
A surprising thing that I found about the kids café was the children. I realized that they were all charming, and some even gave me candy (which is like jewels to children!) and told me that I was pretty (the best compliment that you could induce from a 6-year old princess). Stunningly, one of the girls playing hopscotch lost a game and whispered into my ear, "My mama's going to fire you if you keep winning". The experience of being threatened by a 7-year old girl that her mama's going to fire me for not letting her win was stunning, but I quickly got out of the shock because all the other children were simply angels.
This café that I was working at was not a public institution – it was a commercial café making profit out of children and the mothers. It was a place to liberate mothers from children – and to provide education and amusement for the children, and to keep them away from the mothers while the mothers enjoyed beer and fancy food. It was very odd to see the mothers having beer and nice food and answering "oh, anything, just make sure that he's quiet" when asked for what their children like. It reminded me of Mary Lennox of the book Secret Garden, whose mother wanted her to be kept out of her sight, and handed her over to the ayah right after her birth. I pitied the children and envied them at the same time. They wanted love and the attention of the strangers, but at the same time, they had the all the marvelous toys and the programs that I didn't have as a child. They often threw occasional tantrums, but children were children – their cries subdues with the cheerful play.
All of my co-workers were marvelous as well, the workers of the café included not only the English teachers but baristas and chefs to provide the mothers with the exquisite food. The barista, who was 2 years older than me provided me with coffee occasionally and tips to make the best Maxim coffee.
The conflict with the children was nothing compared with that of my boss – the mother of the brat who threatened me. On the fifth day of my work at the café, we had 'market day'. An event to let the children experience buying things with 'English' was held. Merchandises such as plastic fish, stationery and beautiful pens were offered. The funny thing was, the money for the market was distributed in a strange way. The currency (fake dollars) to purchase items in the market was to be purchased by the children's mothers with real cash. 1 dollar of fake money was equivalent to a thousand won. The prices placed on the items were odd as well – a dollar for a pencil, 3 dollars for a hairpin, a dollar for a piece of candy. I didn't have any problems with the children's mothers paying for the overpriced merchandises, but some of the children, in fact, about 60% of the children felt left out from the market event.
"What do I do for the children not having any cash?" I asked the head of the café, and she shrugged, "tell them to ask their parents". The notion of even the children's play being commercialized made me sick, and to ease their woes of being left out from the cheerful play, I provided them with the cheap candy that I carried around. Sadly, something unexpected happened – the candy that I had purchased from the dollar store (Daiso) happened to be the candy being sold for a dollar, and the children, realizing this tried to use the candy that I had given as currency. One of the children that had received candy traded the candy with the plastic fish that the girl with many dollars purchased, and the girl's mother filed a claim saying that I wasted her money.
I was fired immediately for causing harm to the café's profit, and the head of the café shrieked that I caused a major disruption to the event that was prepared for a long time. It was Christmas Eve, and with the pouring snow, I was fired and jobless. The barista of the café walked me to the station, and lit me a cigarette, saying "this will make everything all right. Don't cry, it's not your fault – it's an adult thing." I took the cigarette and inhaled it, and immediately regretted it. It was as if a dust bunny has clot my throat – the feeling continued for several days, and I was couldn't leave the bed. I realize he may have made me sick on purpose, because as a smoker, he knew what happens when a non-smoker smokes strong cigarette for the first time, and because he knew that mental sickness lasts for a longer time than physical sickness. The memoirs of the kids café, my first employer, and the brat became hazy with sleeping for 3 days, but the words "adult thing" still remain.
Hey, this is Donghee. Wow, Dong yi, such a dreadful experience you had. I totally felt the same when you said that commercializing children's play was sickening. What a world we are living in. And I don't get either why the head of the cafe fired you for such a minor reason. At least it seems not a big issue to me. I noticed that you wrote in a past tense and since the the event occur at least three or four years ago, I think that was a good choice. Nice writing, just as your last one! I want to know how come did you started to work at kids cafe? I heard working at kids cafe is usually something..intensive.
ReplyDeleteHello.
ReplyDeleteI loved the details of this story. The descriptions of the parents and their kids really intrigued me to keep reading! I especially thought you described the market day very well. I could see how your dilemma happened.
I was a little confused about the reason you were upset at the end. Throughout the whole story it seemed pretty clear that you hated the job, so I was a little surprised that you were crying when you walked to the subway station.
I think your first paragraph was good but it could definitely be better! I loved specific details of that kid who whispered in your ear and how you snuck candy for the other students so maybe you could use those details for your introduction?
Your tenses were in the past and I thought they were well matched with your tone of the story. Well done!
Your story was really superb, if there can be any suggestions that could be made, I think more conversations could be added to make it seem more real or maybe focus on several kids and add particular details of how each and individual kids acted.
See you in class, Hye Hyon Kim
When looking back through my past for the things that have forced me to grow up, a single memoir of my first work pops up. During the 2010s, numerous institutions and restaurants by the name of 'kid café's popped up all over the nation. It was a craze, a fad for young mothers. The kid cafes, which are registered by law as 'restaurants', provide fancy meals and a wide space for children to play in. After receiving my admission notice from HUFS and several other universities, I was eager to earn money – tuition and other miscellaneous living costs – and naturally, I took an interview at a kids café located in Shinlimdong. They advertised that they provided English programs and English teachers – including Caucasians.
ReplyDeleteMy first interview was lousy – there was no other way to put it. I wore jeans and a sweater to the interview, and not much makeup because I was merely 18 and not even out of high school. The head of the institution was picky, saying things like "why do you wear glasses? Why do you not put on lipstick? The children like pretty teachers, not ones that look as if they study all night." The statement was offensive, but I couldn't help it – I was the one in need of money and a job. I was hired anyhow for my career – which included teaching English at community centers and interpreting at hospitals – and I was asked to come the next day.
A surprising thing that I found about the kids café was the children. I realized that they were all charming, and some even gave me candy (which is like jewels to children!) and told me that I was pretty (the best compliment that you could induce from a 6-year old princess). Stunningly, one of the girls playing hopscotch lost a game and whispered into my ear, "My mama's going to fire you if you keep winning". The experience of being threatened by a 7-year old girl that her mama's going to fire me for not letting her win was stunning, but I quickly got out of the shock because all the other children were simply angels.
ReplyDeleteThis café that I was working at was not a public institution – it was a commercial café making profit out of children and the mothers. It was a place to liberate mothers from children – and to provide education and amusement for the children, and to keep them away from the mothers while the mothers enjoyed beer and fancy food. It was very odd to see the mothers having beer and nice food and answering "oh, anything, just make sure that he's quiet" when asked for what their children like. It reminded me of Mary Lennox of the book Secret Garden, whose mother wanted her to be kept out of her sight, and handed her over tothe ayah right after her birth. I pitied the children and envied them at the same time. They wanted love and the attention of the strangers, but at the same time, they had the all the marvelous toys and the programs that I didn't have as a child. They often threw occasional tantrums, but children were children – their cries subdues with the cheerful play.
All of my co-workers were marvelous as well, the workers of the café included not only the English teachers but baristas and chefs to provide the mothers with the exquisite food. The barista, who was 2 years older than me provided me with coffee occasionally and tips to make the best Maxim coffee. The odd things about my foreign co-workers was that they did not seem American, as the bossy mamas visiting the cafe would have wanted. Some talked in languages that sounded Russian, and one had tattoos all over his body, and spoke in heavy slang. All talked in fragmented English. The mothers, of course, had no ways of knowing this and proudly took photos of their children playing with Caucasians.
ReplyDeleteThe conflict with the children was nothing compared with that of my boss – the mother of the brat who threatened me. On the fifth day of my work at the café, we had 'market day'. An event to let the children experience buying things with 'English' was held. Merchandises such as plastic fish, stationery and beautiful pens were offered. The funny thing was, the money for the market was distributed in a strange way. The currency (fake dollars) to purchase items in the market was to be purchased by the children's mothers with real cash. 1 dollar of fake money was equivalent to a thousand won. The prices placed on the items were odd as well – a dollar for a pencil, 3 dollars for a hairpin, a dollar for a piece of candy. I didn't have any problems with the children's mothers paying for the overpriced merchandises, but some of the children, in fact, about 60% of the children felt left out from the market event.
"What do I do for the children not having any cash?" I asked the head of the café, and she shrugged, "tell them to ask their parents". The notion of even the children's play being commercialized made me sick, and to ease their woes of being left out from the cheerful play, I provided them with the cheap candy that I carried around. Sadly, something unexpected happened – the candy that I had purchased from the dollar store (Daiso) happened to be the candy being sold for a dollar, and the children, realizing this tried to use the candy that I had given as currency. One of the children that had received candy traded the candy with the plastic fish that the girl with many dollars purchased, and the girl's mother filed a claim saying that I wasted her money.
I was fired immediately for causing harm to the café's profit, and the head of the café shrieked that I caused a major disruption to the event that was prepared for a long time. It was Christmas Eve, and with the pouring snow, I was fired and jobless. The barista of the café walked me to the station, and lit me a cigarette, saying "this will make everything all right. Don't cry, it's not your fault – it's an adult thing." I took the cigarette and inhaled it, and immediately regretted it. It was as if a dust bunny has clot my throat – the feeling continued for several days, and I was couldn't leave the bed. I realize he may have made me sick on purpose, because as a smoker, he knew what happens when a non-smoker smokes strong cigarette for the first time, and because he knew that mental sickness lasts for a longer time than physical sickness. The memoirs of the kids café, my first employer, and the brat became hazy with sleeping for 3 days, but the words "adult thing" still remain.