Why Western Kids Can Struggle At South Korean International Schools
When we moved to South Korea for my husband’s teaching job, we were excited about many things. Living on a stunning island, the cultural immersion, safety, and the chance to show our kids a whole new way of life.
Sangdong District, Bucheon. Wikimedia Commmons: Kimhs5400(누리위키), adapted by Wandering Educators
All three of our kids (who were 3, 7 and 9 when we first moved) attended the South Korean international school my husband worked at. The school was based on Jeju Island and made up of a predominantly local Korean student population with a few teachers’ kids thrown in. That’s because Jeju Island, unlike the mainland, places no restrictions on Korean nationals attending international schools (mainland international schools require students to hold an overseas passport).
We stayed in Korea for three years, and while there were plenty of positive moments, the school experience came with some big challenges, especially for the kids.
If you’re a trailing spouse or considering teaching in South Korea with kids in tow, you’ll want to read this first.
What Are Hagwons – And Why Do They Matter?
Hagwons (학원) are private after-school academies designed to ‘supplement’ regular schooling. They cover a wide range of subjects, from math and science to piano, English, and preparation for exams. Some kids in South Korea attend multiple hagwons a day. Given they’re after school (and also on weekends), it can mean incredibly long days for kids who often don’t leave hagwons until 9 pm - or later.
This system isn’t just an extracurricular boost. It’s an entire shadow education culture that drives much of South Korea’s intense focus on academics and competition. According to a recent report, South Korean teenagers study 15 hours more than their peers in OECD member countries each week. And The Financial Times cites that almost half of children under six in South Korea attend a hagwon.
While many international schools try to provide more of a balance, and many even actively discourage hagwon attendance, it’s a national obsession for many families. With so much pressure on academic achievement, international schools can’t do much to prevent students from attending, especially if they have a high Korean student population.
"Hagwon Row" in South Korea. Wikimedia Commmons: Ricksinkorea
Academic Pressure Starts Young in South Korea
We did our homework before we arrived, so we knew that education was a big deal in Korea, like many other Asian countries. But we hadn’t really grasped just how big it was until we moved there. Even in primary school, the culture of academic competition shapes the whole environment. Most students (even those in reception and Y1 level) attended hagwons, even just to improve their English. Some were staying out super late, which meant kids didn’t go to bed until around 10 pm. Given my four-year-old was getting a full 12 hours a night, you can probably guess how much livelier he was in class compared to his classmates, which led to constant issues and complaints about his behaviour.
Our kids didn’t go to hagwons. This made them the outliers against most of their classmates (especially my older children). While their Korean classmates were drilling maths equations into the night, our kids were building Lego, playing outside, or (gasp) doing nothing. They soon noticed the difference, and not in a good way.
Many classmates were well ahead in subjects like maths, and often the curriculum was being stretched to cater towards these students, meaning our kids were getting left behind. This ultimately ended up impacting their confidence and joy of learning.
Social Integration Isn’t Easy
This was a hard one. Our kids were used to playdates, spontaneous play and casual friendships. We found that in Korea, this wasn’t always the norm. Because of the intense academic culture, many kids' lives are tightly scheduled around their academic commitments. The idea of “just playing” was foreign to some of their peers.
I’ll never forget one particular play date with my daughter, who was nine. She’d invited a Korean friend over to play. I’d sent them to my daughter’s room to play freely (I am very much a fan of child-led unstructured play!). But, within 10 minutes, my daughter was back and a little bit upset, saying her friend wasn’t playing with her. She’d grabbed a book and sat down to read. She wasn’t being rude - she genuinely didn’t know how to engage in free play.
Even just organising play dates was tricky. Often, kids couldn’t come because of hagwon commitments. Other times, they showed up late and left early. Social connections were limited to short school breaks or supervised group activities. Many Western kids ended up gravitating towards a small circle made up of other Western kids. Even if these kids didn’t have much in common, they stuck together, which often led to friendship issues.
Friends with older kids often had more horrific stories to share of bullying and exclusion. Thankfully, we didn’t experience anything to that level, but it was rife in older years.
It’s one of the reasons many teachers advise coming to South Korea when your kids are young and leaving before secondary school.
Photo: Marie @ Flickr cc
The Emotional Toll is Real
Academically, the biggest challenge was with our two eldest kids, who became more stressed and worried about their results. For example, there were frequent tears and meltdowns over maths homework, which took much longer than it should have because of gaps in their knowledge (which I struggled to support!).
Group assignments and activities were challenging. Thankfully, my eldest had a good sense of self and started to challenge group members who wanted to meet during lunchtime every day to achieve the highest score. She ended up telling them she needed a lunch break and that no universities would care what outcome they got in a Year 7 drama class.
Socially, our youngest two kids struggled. There were frequent friendship issues for our middle daughter, who had a very small circle of friends. My son had a very close Western friend, but if he was off sick, he’d often play alone.
What I Wish I’d Known
If you’re considering a move to South Korea with school-age kids, here’s what I’d suggest:
• Ask a lot of questions about the school’s approach to wellbeing. Don’t just assume “international” means Western-style balance. Try to speak to current teachers and families to learn about their experience.
• Find other families with similar values around childhood, play, and development. Having a support network of like-minded people can make a huge difference.
• Talk to your kids regularly about what they’re experiencing. Try to encourage them not to compare themselves to other students and encourage other pursuits than academic study.
• Set your own benchmarks. Your child is probably unlikely to be top of the class - and they need to know that’s okay. Create an environment at home that supports their effort, not their results.
Our time in South Korea was definitely something I’ll never forget. It was full of plenty of learning for us as a family - sometimes joyful and sometimes hard-earned. While I wouldn’t change the experience, I definitely also don’t romanticise it.
While each of our kids' experiences was unique, often school was tough for our kids. But all schools come with their challenges.
If you’re headed to Korea, go in with open eyes and do your research to understand how the school you’re considering supports families, so you can make the right choice for your family.
Please click the photo below for a compendium of my International Teaching Families columns:
Kelly Quinn, the International Teaching Families Editor for Wandering Educators, is a writer and expat parent who has spent the last few years behind the scenes in international education. She recently founded International Teaching Families, a site dedicated to helping international teaching families and expat parents navigate the world of international schools. Kelly has spent the past five years living in Peru, South Korea, and Malaysia with her husband (an international school teacher) and their three kids. When she’s not navigating visa rules or the MANY school WhatsApp groups, she also writes about travel and expat life for her personal blog - My Expat Fam.
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All photos courtesy and copyright Kelly Quinn, except where noted