Thoughts on Korean education from the U.S. on Children’s Day

Last week was Children’s Day in South Korea. As I walked past a park in Manhattan and saw children running and playing, I couldn’t help but speak to myself. With the weather warming up, kids in New York are filling the streets like the new leaves on the trees. Watching them — from preschoolers to high schoolers — laughing and playing with their friends made me smile, but also brought a pang of sadness. My mind drifted to Korea’s eerily empty playgrounds and children trudging under backpacks bigger than themselves as they head to cram schools late into the night.

Every time I see these bright, carefree American children, I wonder what has created such a stark contrast with the often expressionless faces of Korean children. In a nation with one of the world’s lowest birth rates, we should be cherishing every child. Yet the tragic reality that suicide is the leading cause of death among Korean youth makes clear that society — and we as adults — must take responsibility and reflect.

The environments children face in the two countries differ in many ways, but one of the most decisive differences is in tests and assessments. American schools, in fact, administer more frequent and varied tests than those in Korea. Teachers and state officials conduct regular assessments, constantly checking the pulse of education. Yet children here generally don’t suffer from the stress levels associated with testing in Korea. That’s because, unlike in Korea, nearly all evaluations in American schools are based on absolute standards, not relative rankings.

In Korea, tests push students to outperform their peers rather than focus on their own growth. The system keeps them anxious and constantly comparing themselves to the classmate next to them. In the United States, it’s the opposite. Schools emphasize collaboration over competition. Whether creating art projects or solving math problems, students are often asked to work together. They are taught to understand differences, coordinate efforts, and produce results as a team — because only then do they all earn higher marks.

Tests here also lack the harsh ranking effect common in Korea. Questions focus on key knowledge and are rarely twisted or overly detailed just to filter students out. Many exams aren’t even timed. If a student can’t finish today, they are simply given more time tomorrow. And unlike in Korea, where children fall into what’s called “arithmetic hell” from kindergarten, American students use calculators in elementary school and graphing calculators starting in middle school.

The structure and atmosphere of schools also differ widely. While there are variations by region and school, American elementary students typically attend from about 8 or 9 a.m. to 3 or 4 p.m. The daily schedule is simple and consistent, covering core subjects like English, math, social studies, and science. Every student is required to spend 20 to 30 minutes outdoors each day for recess. With classes ending later and breaks built in, there’s little need for after-school care or cram schools.

Another hallmark of American education — what might seem like an overload of praise from a Korean perspective — is the way teachers and parents constantly encourage children. From an early age, they hear affirmations: “Great job,” “It’s OK,” “You can do it,” “You’ve improved.” Perhaps as a result, American children tend to show less tension, higher self-esteem and an easy confidence.

An industry expert who spent more than 30 years working around the world once summed up Korea’s critical weakness this way: “If you selected 100 people from each country and measured their individual abilities, Korea would easily come out on top. But if you measured what those 100 people could achieve together, Korea would fall short against the U.S.”

On this past Children’s Day, as I thought about Korea’s children and the nation’s future, it became clear that the best gift we could offer is a new education system.