For some, this system of excessive private tuition cuts deeper than cost.
“Minji” wanted to share her experience, but not publicly. She is not ready for her parents to know she will not be having children. “They will be so shocked and disappointed,” she said, from the coastal city of Busan, where she lives with her husband.
Minji confided that her childhood and 20s had been unhappy.
“I’ve spent my whole life studying,” she said – first to get into a good university, then for her civil servant exams, and then to get her first job at 28.
She remembers her childhood years spent in classrooms until late at night, cramming maths, which she loathed and was bad at, while she dreamed of being an artist.
“I’ve had to compete endlessly, not to achieve my dreams, but just to live a mediocre life,” she said. “It’s been so draining.”
Only now, aged 32, does Minji feel free, and able to enjoy herself. She loves to travel and is learning to dive.
But her biggest consideration is that she does not want to put a child through the same competitive misery she experienced.
“Korea is not a place where children can live happily,” she has concluded. Her husband would like a child, and they used to fight about it constantly, but he has come to accept her wishes. Occasionally her heart wavers, she admits, but then she remembers why it cannot be.