An Elder 'Jaesu-saeng' Reflects on the Life of Retaking Exams

In a cramped, dimly lit classroom of a Seoul cram school in February 1984, the author began his second attempt at college entrance exams. The former movie theater, converted into a "Liberal Arts Class 3," offered no natural light, only the constant hum of fluorescent bulbs and the intrusive noise of traffic from the adjacent bus stop. Surrounded by 120 students, the author describes feeling like a "listless rooster," transformed into a "memorization machine" under the artificial glow, all dreaming of admission to Seoul National University.

The curriculum was ruthlessly efficient, stripped of any "trivial" subjects like music, art, or even school assemblies and festivals. The focus was solely on the upcoming "College Scholastic Ability Test." The author recalls his geography teacher's engaging lectures but also the chilling monthly ritual of the director calling out students' names in rank order, a practice that felt surreal and dehumanizing. He questions why no one protested this public humiliation.

As spring turned to summer, the author sensed his own academic struggles, particularly in mathematics, would prevent another successful attempt. The cram school, he realized, was not an institution for deep learning but a place for managing already known material. While classmates sought brief respites in pool halls or cheap Chinese restaurants, sharing jokes and vowing not to get into traffic accidents, the author found himself increasingly detached, drawn to political analyses in magazines and novels, and aware of the distant, acrid smell of tear gas hinting at a world beyond exams.

He notes the absence of a direct English equivalent for "jaesu-saeng," a term that encapsulates the singular, all-consuming focus on retaking exams. With over 182,000 students, or 33% of the total, expected to retake the college entrance exam in 2026, the author reflects on how little he knows about the current reality for these students. Yet, he understands the shared burden of existing while trying to remain invisible, and feels a profound apology for perpetuating a similar "exam hell" for future generations. He offers a message of encouragement to current "n-su-saengs," hoping his existence as an "n-su-saeng elder" who has questioned the system offers some solace.