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My “socially promoted” student has been bumped up to keep up with his peers. He’s completely oblivious to most forms of logic and coherent thought. For example, today, without irony, when one of his classmates spoke Korean, he shouted, “Hangul mal! HANGUL MAL! (KOREAN! KOREAN!)” to tattle.

One of the differences between kindergarten students and new students at my day job is their familiarity to English. Most new students at an academy can read at some level or another. They might not be able to do phonics, but they know the ABC’s, and everyone of them can read Korean.

A class of new readers with a new teacher is usually very shy. You need to get them on your side quickly and make them laugh. It’s just like that old adage about giving a speech, “Open with a joke.” If you ever want to get them to warm up to you and speak in front of so many other classmates, having them laugh is a good idea.

My fifth grade class presents a reenactment of the Boston Massacre. Aren't they cute?

Pyongyang, North Korea — A socialist chat room for North Koreans descended into chaos this evening when American students mocked the country’s communist landmarks. American students claimed that these historical icons had more to do with “burpin da worm u fagss” than the strength of communism through the unity of workers.

Ji Won Park May Yet Speak Six years after a crippling assault, she's working to strengthen muscles, and better communicate.By Crawford Kilian

My wife teaches storybooks and songs to students at elementary schools around the city. She had a contract with the school and visits the same to elementary schools. She works in this program as an alternative to the private academy system I work in.

Like any political debate in Korea, eventually the stupid rhetoric reaches students in my school and I’ve got to waste time dealing with whatever warped version of reality has sunk into these children’s head. One mouth-breathing student asked me if I lived in America. He asked it coyly, like he was springing a trap on me.

A blast from the past. Being a Jill of many trades, I know my way around a toolbox, and I probably shouldn’t confess, but when fraternizing with the opposite sex, I have spent more time under the hood then in the back seat. Honey, hand me that five-eights socket and the ratchet, please.

Today is the first anniversary of the Virginia Tech massacre. I wrote a poem on the day that Cho Seung-Hui Went on a shooting rampage at Virginia Tech. While the poem is not meant to minimize the evil of Cho Seung-Hui’s attack on students and teachers, it does express a certain amount of pity for Cho and the inarticulate and mad world he lived in.