Black Corporation: Joseon [EN]: Chapter 319

319. A Hero? A New Devil? (2)

Most parents with children at Sammin Academy shared similar sentiments.

‘My child may not be the most gifted, but they’re certainly no less capable than the others!’

Therefore, when the Gyeongsul academic year concluded and the results were announced, chaos erupted.

Parents whose children failed to advance, while others succeeded, confronted the academy’s teachers, causing a major uproar.

“What’s wrong with my child!”

“They haven’t even mastered the Thousand Character Classic [a foundational text in Confucianism] yet.”

“They just need a few more days to learn it!”

“The semester has already ended. We regret to inform you, but we hope they pass next semester. Your child isn’t lacking in talent, so they should be able to pass then.”

After the interviews with the teachers, the parents, frustrated, often took it out on their children.

“I’m going to get that rascal!”

That day, the sound of children crying echoed throughout the village.

And in the fall of Sinhae, when Sammin Academy reopened, many children had to relearn a significant portion of the material.

“Why is this happening?”

Surprised by the decline in the children’s academic performance, the teachers investigated the cause.

After questioning the children, the teachers realized that the farming season was to blame.

-Academic achievement declined because they couldn’t properly review and reinforce their studies while working on the farm during the farming season.

This wasn’t limited to rural areas. In urban and fishing villages, most children had to help with their families’ livelihoods, making proper review impossible.

The only children who could maintain or improve their achievement by studying during the break were those from affluent landowner or noble families.

To raise the achievement of the struggling children, they needed to study as diligently as they worked during the farming season.

Competition among parents intensified, and children had to pore over books until late at night. Parents spared no expense to support their children’s education.

“What’s a little lamp oil when my child is studying!”

However, as Sinhae neared its end and Imja approached, it became clear that similar events would repeat. The teachers of Sammin Academy began submitting appeals to the Ministry of Education.

* * *

After hearing the explanation from Jo Gye-saeng, Sejong asked with a serious expression.

“So, the suggestion is to extend the class period?”

“That is correct, Your Majesty.”

“By how much are you proposing to increase it?”

“Currently, the school year starts five days after Chuseok [Korean Thanksgiving] and continues until the vernal equinox (March 20-21). The appeals suggest matching the break (休學) to the summer solstice (June 21-22), while keeping the start date five days after Chuseok. If the summer solstice is too long, they argue for extending it at least until Ipha (May 5-6).”

Sejong, after quietly calculating Jo Gye-saeng’s words, asked again.

“Are you saying to increase it by at least a month and a half, and up to three months?”

“That is correct.”

“Would parents who make a living from farming agree? Aren’t children already being put to work because there aren’t enough hands?”

Jo Gye-saeng immediately addressed Sejong’s concern.

“That is correct. Therefore, the Ministry of Education plans to hold regular semesters until Gokwoo (April 20-21). Instead, we intend to formally organize the supplementary lesson days (補習日) that the teachers have been advocating for.”

“Regular organization… Would children be able to attend easily when they are busy?”

“We are planning to align the supplementary lesson days with the market days.”

Sejong clapped his hands in approval at Jo Gye-saeng’s answer.

“That is a truly brilliant idea!”

* * *

One notable change in Joseon society, with the establishment of the Monopoly Office, the ‘darling of reform,’ across the country, was the rise of regular markets.

In some ways, it seemed contradictory.

However, upon closer examination, it was a natural development. With the stable supply of essential goods like salt and sugar through the Monopoly Office, the people of Joseon no longer needed to buy large quantities at once and store them.

In addition, as people had more financial freedom due to the reforms, ordinary people began to indulge in luxuries. People who were once content with wooden bowls and spoons now sought earthenware pots, bowls, and brass spoons.

However, the Monopoly Office didn’t sell everything. A simple example was paper. After the Jojiseo (造紙署) [the royal paper-making agency] was abolished, papermaking artisans, freed from state control, produced paper all over the country, and merchants traveled to sell it.

As paper became more readily available, ordinary people began to paste paper on their floors. People who would have used straw mats now used paper.

Covering floors with paper made the living environment cleaner, and people began to pay more attention to hygiene. As a result, the occurrence of diseases gradually decreased.

Although this is a digression, in this way, the standards of ordinary people rose, and the habit of storing goods diminished, leading to the activation of markets nationwide.

Thanks to this, as Sinhae (1431) neared its end, 5-day markets became established nationwide, and a plan was made to use these market days for supplementary lessons.

* * *

Sejong immediately approved the Ministry of Education’s plan that Jo Gye-saeng had presented.

“The importance of education in nurturing talent need not be reiterated! However, the issue of livelihood, which is related to stable income (恒産), cannot be overlooked! Therefore, the semester of Sammin Academy will continue until Gokwoo, but market days will be supplementary lesson days to ensure no interruption in learning!”

“We obey your command!”

The ministers bowed their heads and answered in unison to Sejong’s order.

Hyang, watching from the side, muttered inwardly.

‘I don’t know if this is a good thing….’

* * *

When the plan for compulsory education, symbolized by Sammin Academy, was first established, Hyang had proposed setting an education period of 5 to 6 years.

However, Sejong and the ministers reacted negatively.

“Crown Prince, are you suggesting we set the education period to 5 or 6 years?”

“Yes, I am. We should set one year as one semester, teach the necessary courses for each semester, and then move on to the next.”

“What happens if they don’t fully acquire the set courses in that semester?”

“A semester is almost 6 months, so there will be some who fail. Even so, I think we can pass them if they are above a certain level.”

“What if they are more talented and achieve faster?”

“If they achieve it within half the semester, they can move on to the next stage immediately. If not, they can move on to the next semester with their classmates.”

Based on the curriculum he had experienced in the 21st century, Hyang answered Sejong’s question.

Sejong pondered Hyang’s answer and shook his head.

“Crown Prince, your proposal is not reasonable. If we allow them to move on to the next stage even if they haven’t properly learned the material and are only at a certain level, they may become complacent. Conversely, if they have better aptitude and work harder, but have to move with others, they may lose their enthusiasm for learning. Therefore, the criteria for moving on should be achievement, not time spent learning.”

At Sejong’s words, the ministers all nodded in agreement.

Seeing Sejong and the ministers, Hyang withdrew his proposal.

“I was short-sighted.”

Sejong and the ministers’ thoughts were rooted in tradition.

Until then, advancing to the next level of learning meant completely mastering the current material. That was the origin of the custom of ‘book washing’ (책씻이) [a celebration of completing a textbook] in Seodang [traditional village schools].

For those familiar with such traditions, Hyang’s 21st-century method—where students naturally move up a grade when the time comes—wasn’t reasonable.

To Hyang, this method of advancing based on results also seemed reasonable at first glance. However, the 21st-century curriculum was created from over 100 years of accumulated experience.

Therefore, Hyang thought, ‘I don’t know which one is right.’

As an aside, this system, where advancement and grade retention are determined by results, became a tradition unique to Joseon.

And it became infamous worldwide.

Students who were smart and worked hard advanced to higher education institutions faster than others. As a result, it was common for people in their early to mid-teens to study at the highest educational institutions. On the other hand, many people in their late teens had to learn with children several years younger in intermediate schools.

Some people made extreme choices under this pressure.

Many foreign media outlets criticized this, but Joseon’s response was consistent.

“Competition is essential to get the best talent!”

“This is nothing compared to the competition in society!”

In the end, Joseon had to endure much pain while spending a lot of time creating improvement measures in this area.

* * *

While the Joseon court in Hanseong was bustling, sailors who had completed their quarantine in the Mokpo naval base were taking vacations and leaving the base.

It was a long vacation of fifteen days.

Carrying bundles of exotic sculptures and foreign objects personally obtained from Tenjiku [an ancient Indian kingdom, often referring to India] – the Bengal Sultanate – the sailors left the base in groups of three or five, heading home to their families.

“Honey! I’m home!”

“Makdong! Dad’s here!”

“Oh, honey!”

“Father!”

Families who hadn’t seen their husbands and fathers for a long time were overjoyed and had a happy reunion.

As they asked about each other’s well-being and a commotion broke out, the neighbors slowly gathered to watch.

As the commotion subsided, the sailors untied the bundles they had brought.

“Honey, take a look at this. Dol-soe, come here too.”

“What is this?”

As the sailor sitting on the porch untied the bundle, his family and the neighbors over the fence took an interest and craned their necks.

“This is fabric made in Tenjiku.”

“Oh my! What kind of fabric is so thin! It’s so airy!”

The woman who picked up the sari [a traditional Indian garment], exclaimed.

It wasn’t just the sari. The sailors’ families exclaimed in admiration every time an object full of exotic atmosphere appeared.

After spending time with their families and resting, the sailors soon had a drinking party with the neighborhood men.

“I was passing through that far sea, and you know….”

While talking about their experiences sailing the distant seas (遠洋), not the near seas of Joseon, and the stories about the foreign cultures they encountered, embellished with exaggeration, the men listened intently. Since it was a garrison village near the naval base, most of the men were sailors, scheduled for similar voyages, so they listened with shining eyes.

As the drinks flowed and foreign cultures became the topic, the conversation shifted to foreign women.

“Hey, what were the women of Tenjiku like?”

“Because it’s a sunny country, they’re all dark-skinned, but you know, they look like cows.”

“Cows?”

“Their eyes are so big! Half their face is eyes! They pierce their noses and wear gold decorations, and they wear gold strings! Just like cows! And….”

The sailor, subtly looking around, gestured over his chest.

“This is as big as a cow.”

“Heo~.”

The men listened, letting their imaginations run wild.