Picture a montage of Korean teenagers. Navy blazers and lots of pimples. Plastic framed glasses which look very seventies. Most are nervous; a few are knees-knocking terrified. A few have faces which twist and contort as they struggle to remember the words in their memorized scripts.
"I am positiv-uh person..."
"Electricity dangerous but interesting..."
"I very much like-a to weld..."
Now picture three very bored Westerners trapped behind a long table across from the current sufferer. Brad, middle-aged, ex-Peace Corps. Neatly-parted hair cropped close. Tired eyes. Cedrick, South African, mustached and wears a tie that has ostriches on it. And me. Little old me, who knows that most of these kids desire to go on the internship is matched only by their complete inability to speak English properly. Knows this, and feels vaguely guilty because it's up to us three to decide these kids fates. All this process needed to achieve its full Kafka-esque potential was a talent segment -- although the thought of one of the poor, terrified Food Science Girls from trying to make water glasses sing or do a tap dance seems too barbarous even for Korean English instruction.
"Can you tell me your major?"
"Describe your character."
"Why should we accept you for this internship?"
It is necessary to be efficient, since there are over fifty kids here to interview. At five minutes apiece and no bathroom breaks ever that would still keep us busy for four hours. It is also necessary to be humane -- to sit patiently through the awkward gaps in the memorized litanies, to radiate confidence to kids whose throats constrict with fear, to recognize that most of them sweat blood to make their bad English as good as it is. Recognize this and respect it -- even as we fight to maintain our own sanity in the face of the fourth rendition of the "Dangerous electricity interesting" spiel. Judging quickly begins to feel oh-so-arbitrary, even though for the kids it incredibly consequential.
"I want to go Australia. I think Australia beautiful country."
"After internship, I hope my own welding company have."
"I want Korean culture the world to share."
There are some bright spots. A precious few of the students spoke English so well we all marveled at it. Listening to them was refreshing beyond refreshing. Pop songs and TV shows and Hollywood movies apparently are good for something after all. In the vast majority of cases, though, the question that seems to matter most is when to say "That's enough, stop please," make a few savage flicks of the pencil, and summon the next terrified Korean teenager. Brad summed up the atmosphere at Internship Exams best when he called it the "Internship Gong Show." I like this description. Wearisome. Savage-seeming. Endless, painfully-likable contestants who are just not good at what they need to be good at.
Internship Gong Show it is.
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