ladyarkles
04-17-2005, 11:00 PM
UIJEONGBU PRISON, Gyeonggi Province - It looks like a typical scene at thousands of hagwons in Korea; students sit around a foreign teacher, trying hard to express themselves in English, with laughter interrupting the flow of conversation every few minutes. If not for the monotonous blue uniforms which all the students are wearing and an iron-barred window, it's easy to forget this classroom is set back from the rest of the world, behind layers of locked steel doors and towers and checkpoints manned by prison guards.
The students merrily trying to master English are convicted criminals doing time for acts ranging from misdemeanors to serious felonies.
But regardless of why they are behind bars, here at Uijeongbu Prison they are the proud class of 2005, with the best command of English among the entire inmate population in Korea. Each has come through stiff competition to be enrolled in a one-year intensive course in English, offered only here at Uijeongbu Prison.
"They are very good. I have no problem holding a conversation with them," teacher Jeni Smith says of her 30 students, who attend her class twice a week for 5 hours.
"They are enthusiastic students, asking a lot of questions about me and America. We talk a lot, and it's fun."
The 30 inmate-students, selected through a written exam, have been temporarily transferred from prisons across the country for the one-year course at Uijeongbu.
Every day, they have 7 hours of classes only in English, including the free-talking class with the American teacher.
English is one of the facility's education programs, which provide inmates with skills that will aid them in their post-prison lives. Some inmates enjoy simply having something to occupy their thoughts and time. But many are far and away more enthusiastic than most other students in the outside world to learn something, says Kim Gwang-jo, a prison official in charge of the English course.
Prisoner Lee Ho-jun (not his real name) says it's not the language itself but the fact that he has achieved something that matters. The whole process of learning English has helped him to change from within.
"I think now I see the world in a different way from the way I used to, as this experience has built up my self-confidence," said Lee.
Now 40 years old, he was sent to a prison in Gunsan more than 9 years ago after being convicted of a burglary-murder charge. He has served over half his 15-year jail term.
Coming from a poor background, he only finished elementary school, and thus never learned the English alphabet before getting to Gunsan.
"Sometime in 1998, I was assigned to a job in a paper-bag manufacturing unit. I could not hand over the bags which I was asked to, because I was not able to make out the English brand names written on them. That's how I started teaching myself ABC."
After about seven years studying all by himself for many hours after his daily work, he started to make sense of articles in English-language newspapers. But he failed three times in the written exam before securing a spot at the English course this year.
"Most of the inmate-students at the class have finished higher education. Someone like Lee who taught himself from scratch in prison and was accepted in the class deserves extra praise," says prison official Kim.
Lee cherishes a humble wish for the day he walks out of the prison.
"I wish one day I'll be able to help at-risk people like me by teaching them what I have learned," he said.
(milaya@heraldm.com)
The students merrily trying to master English are convicted criminals doing time for acts ranging from misdemeanors to serious felonies.
But regardless of why they are behind bars, here at Uijeongbu Prison they are the proud class of 2005, with the best command of English among the entire inmate population in Korea. Each has come through stiff competition to be enrolled in a one-year intensive course in English, offered only here at Uijeongbu Prison.
"They are very good. I have no problem holding a conversation with them," teacher Jeni Smith says of her 30 students, who attend her class twice a week for 5 hours.
"They are enthusiastic students, asking a lot of questions about me and America. We talk a lot, and it's fun."
The 30 inmate-students, selected through a written exam, have been temporarily transferred from prisons across the country for the one-year course at Uijeongbu.
Every day, they have 7 hours of classes only in English, including the free-talking class with the American teacher.
English is one of the facility's education programs, which provide inmates with skills that will aid them in their post-prison lives. Some inmates enjoy simply having something to occupy their thoughts and time. But many are far and away more enthusiastic than most other students in the outside world to learn something, says Kim Gwang-jo, a prison official in charge of the English course.
Prisoner Lee Ho-jun (not his real name) says it's not the language itself but the fact that he has achieved something that matters. The whole process of learning English has helped him to change from within.
"I think now I see the world in a different way from the way I used to, as this experience has built up my self-confidence," said Lee.
Now 40 years old, he was sent to a prison in Gunsan more than 9 years ago after being convicted of a burglary-murder charge. He has served over half his 15-year jail term.
Coming from a poor background, he only finished elementary school, and thus never learned the English alphabet before getting to Gunsan.
"Sometime in 1998, I was assigned to a job in a paper-bag manufacturing unit. I could not hand over the bags which I was asked to, because I was not able to make out the English brand names written on them. That's how I started teaching myself ABC."
After about seven years studying all by himself for many hours after his daily work, he started to make sense of articles in English-language newspapers. But he failed three times in the written exam before securing a spot at the English course this year.
"Most of the inmate-students at the class have finished higher education. Someone like Lee who taught himself from scratch in prison and was accepted in the class deserves extra praise," says prison official Kim.
Lee cherishes a humble wish for the day he walks out of the prison.
"I wish one day I'll be able to help at-risk people like me by teaching them what I have learned," he said.
(milaya@heraldm.com)