In my family, like many Korean American families, we regularly communicate using Konglish (Korean + English). We rely on Konglish when something complicated or multilayered can be better expressed using a combination of Korean and English words. The other day, during an evening walk with my spouse, I said the following about two students who submitted stellar written assignments: “The things that they do are so ee-ppeu.”
Literally translated, the word “ee-ppeu” (이뻐) means good-looking or pretty. But I was actually applying a different use of the word (and this is the meaning that I will base my reflections on in this blog post). The adjective is just as often used to describe a person who demonstrates some form of excellence; engages in a kind, generous, or noble act; works exceptionally hard; does something thoughtful or meaningful. And there are other similarly positive traits that the word connotates. This particular use of ee-ppeu is devoid of any commentary on person’s good looks, in contrast to the literal meaning of the word.
As an educator who regularly reminds his students about the dynamic relationship between culture, language, and psychology, I sometimes reflect on the benefits and perils of my reliance on Konglish. Unless you are a Korean, you likely do not use ee-ppeu or Konglish to refer to your students’ behaviors. But perhaps you have your own way of talking about your students to other people (I think we can all admit that we talk about our students, whether positively or at times, with a complaining heart), and you find yourself in a certain mindset about your students when you do. If that’s the case, I hope that you can find connecting points between your own tendencies and what I share in this piece. Specifically, I will share about the favorable aspects of using the term ee-ppeu, the potential downfalls, and an example of a classroom activity that can counter some of the downfalls.
First, the positives.
The word ee-ppeu is a way of expressing praise for another person. It is a form of exclamation spilling over from a warm feeling inside about another person’s action or achievement. Indeed, my partner is accustomed to me relaying stories of student accomplishments with the term ee-ppeu. In my heart, its use can reinforce the love that we in Christian communities are urged to practice with one another. The kind of love that seeks to “rejoice with those who rejoice” (Romans 12:15). As such, the use of the ee-ppeu in reference to my students is a way of honoring their gifts and efforts.
Related, I find that the usage of the word signals a level of attachment to my students that my bag of English words cannot adequately capture. When Koreans describe someone or someone’s action as ee-ppeu, it is reserved for people who are close to them. I can express my profound admiration for a celebrity’s accomplishment, but the word ee-ppeu would be unfit in that situation. Here is another way I like to think of it; ee-ppeu, when it reinforces my connectedness to students, is an ultimate reminder of God’s unwavering love for his people. His deep affection for us as his own children. The use of ee-ppeu can serve as a prompt to care for my students as best as I can, fueled by a strong sense of affection and duty toward one another that we in Christian communities are called to.
The third positive might initially come across as strange, so stick with me here. The word ee-ppeu is often used as a description of a younger person, or a person who is a position of less power. It would be a cultural norm violation for students to call me or my accomplishment as ee-ppeu. When I refer to my students as ee-ppeu, in a real sense, it is a recognition of my position of authority. It must not be in a condescending or arrogant way, of course. But instead, when the sentiment is expressed correctly, I am in recognition of my role as a teacher, and the real influence that I can have over students. As such, when students demonstrate admirable growth and learning, my declaration of that as ee-ppeu reflects the reality of the hierarchical relationship in my learning communities. And it is also a reminder of taking this responsibility as a teacher in a Christian community seriously, as articulated in James 3:1.
As you can tell, I like using the term ee-ppeu in referring to my students, as it helps me to better care for my students that is congruent with my Christian faith. But I must also confess that sometimes, my mindset when I think of students as ee-ppeu can be driven by self-serving reasons. If a student drops off a thank-you note, I might readily recollect the moment with a declaration, how ee-ppeu. If a student co-author goes above and beyond to finish the part of the manuscript that they are assigned, so my team can move to submitting the manuscript for peer-review, I might describe their effort to a colleague as ee-ppeu. But as you can readily recognize, these are examples of moments when, in big or small ways, I tangibly benefit.
Related, so much of ee-ppeu and its usage is based on performance. Students are already flooded with explicit and implicit messages about their worth being dependent on academic skills. As such, when I fondly refer to student accomplishments as ee-ppeu, when I gush about students using the term, I might be perpetuating this messaging (and reinforcing my own mindset) that academic excellence increases one’s value and worth as a person. While I recognize the reality of my role in assessing the performance of my students, I am sometimes struck by the tension between my evaluative role and my Christian faith that says that my students’ inherent value is not merit-based. That is, I desire to demonstrate God’s love to our students, love that is based on seeing them as created in God’s image and their innate worth; but I also grade and evaluate and declare their performance as ee-ppeu.
Again, this feels a lot like a confession of my shortcomings. But when I observe something in my students as ee-ppeu and express the sentiment to others, I must also pair that with an honest self-reflection on whether I am seeing my students’ worth as dependent on their academic achievement. Or the tangible benefits that they might add to my life.
Finally, let me close this blog with an example of a simple assignment that has helped me to more consistently strike the balance between recognizing student performance and validating students’ inherent worth. In my Cross-Cultural Psychology course, one low-stakes activity that I require students to do is a cultural presentation, uncreatively titled by me as Cultural Show & Tell. The assignment requires students to briefly share about one aspect of their culture, connect it to psychology, and answer their classmates’ questions.
Although I do grade the students’ adherence to the requirements of the assignment, I can also see how the assignment over the years has morphed into a celebration of students. Some students bring in food to share. Others show videos or pictures of their communities. Some perform songs or recite poems. And students actually talk to each other by responding to the presentation and showing genuine interest.
Whenever I observe students delivering their Cultural Show & Tell, I feel a deep sense of appreciation. But I would like to think that this appreciation is not only about their performance. Instead, the appreciation that I feel is based on me learning more about my students, and hearing the narratives of the rich contexts and diverse people who have helped to shape my students. To declare in my mind that my students are ee-ppeu, because I get a glimpse of how God has orchestrated things and people in their lives to make them who they are today.
Educators – when you talk to trusted others about your students, which words come up often? And what implications might these have for how you care for your students, and your own journey as a Christian educator?
David Hicks, in Norms& Nobility, recalled Socrates’ regard for his students and advocated for the kind of affection between students and teachers that is described beautifully here. I appreciate (and enjoyed) the essence and clarity of the message in this blog.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Linda!