November, with the second semester of sixth grade nearing its end.
With today’s final exams, tests in elementary school would finally be over.
And, for all intents and purposes, so would elementary school itself.
These days, with schools pursuing newer styles of education, the academic schedule had been moved up, so the final exams that would once have been held in December were now held in November.
Even the graduation ceremony had been moved up as well, not to February or March, but to December 31st, the last day of the year.
Our homeroom teacher said as she handed out the test papers.
“All right, turn your test papers over~”
First period was Korean.
Once we became sixth graders, the difficulty of the test questions definitely went up.
But to me, sixth-grade test questions were easier to solve than the overly obscure lower-grade questions from before.
I quickly solved every question, carefully reviewed them once more, and then spent the remaining time doodling on the back until the exam ended.
At last, the Korean exam period was over.
The teacher said.
“All right, everyone, put your hands on your heads. The person at the very back, collect the papers with the front person’s test on top.”
Break time.
Sujin came over and asked me.
“Dohee, what was the answer to number 17?”
“That one was number 4.”
“Ah, damn it. I was torn and picked number 3.”
“It’s okay. You can do well on the next one.”
“Hiiing, it’s not okay. Mom said she’d buy me a bag if my average was over 95 this time.”
“What kind of bag? A schoolbag?”
“Nooo! Not a schoolbag, a handbag!”
“Ah.”
Elementary school kids these days—why were they so interested in dressing up and brands at such a young age?
There were even kids who bragged that their clothes were luxury brands.
At this age, they’d look cute and pretty no matter what they wore.
Tsk, tsk.
This is all because SNS ruined the kids.
Second period was math.
As expected, I received the test paper, finished it quickly, and even finished reviewing it.
I had time left, but nothing to do.
I started doodling on the back again, and when I got tired of even that, I began zoning out.
As I zoned out, I found myself focusing on the sounds around me.
The sound of the heater attached to the ceiling running.
The sound of magpies crying outside.
The sound of the children scribbling with pencils and mechanical pencils.
I looked around.
The sight of the children solving problems.
At the front, the teacher grading the Korean test papers we had submitted during the previous period.
And the classroom itself, modest in size, built to suit the small bodies of elementary schoolers.
For some reason, even while I was there in that very moment, it already felt like something I would miss.
Today really is the end of taking tests in this little classroom.
As I looked around, my eyes met the teacher’s.
The teacher looked at me and smiled brightly with her eyes.
She drew something with her hand.
One, zero, zero.
Looks like I got a hundred on the Korean exam this time too.
Even though I had gotten a hundred every time so far, mistakes could happen at any moment, so I only felt at ease after receiving the teacher’s confirmation.
.
.
.
The next day.
After finishing grading all the test papers, the teacher summarized the scores, made report cards, and handed them out to the class during closing homeroom.
“Come up starting from the first number and take yours. Number 1, Suhyeon~”
“Number 2, Kang Junu.”
.
.
.
“Number 22, Lee Nami. Number 23, Lee Dohee.”
I went to the front and received the report card with my grades written on it.
Korean, math, social studies, science, English—all 100 points.
Ah.
I finished it perfectly.
Straight hundreds from first grade to sixth grade.
At most, they were just elementary school exams, but I was moved.
I was even more moved than when I won the grand prize at a piano competition.
After all, a piano competition was still only a competition against elementary schoolers.
With an adult’s mind, I thought it was only natural for me to win.
On the other hand, even if the tests were elementary school problems, getting them right or wrong felt like a competition against myself.
Maybe that was why I was more moved.
I should stop by home before going to the company today.
After school ended, I arrived home, opened the front door, and called for Mom.
“Mom!”
Mom answered from the kitchen.
“What? Why did you come home today? Aren’t you going to the company?”
I tossed my schoolbag roughly onto the living room floor, lay down on the sofa, and kept laughing.
“Heh-hah-hih.”
I couldn’t hide my laughter.
Normally, I would have gone over to Mom, shown her my report card, and teased her or something, but today I didn’t feel like doing that.
Mom came out of the kitchen, hugged me as I lay on the sofa, and said.
“Why is my daughter in such a good mood? Did you get everything right again?”
I just kept laughing and silently showed Mom the report card I was holding.
Mom looked at the report card too, then laughed as she ruffled my hair, pulled my cheeks, kissed me, and made a huge fuss.
Mom and I only calmed down after laughing like that for over ten minutes.
Still smiling, Mom said to me.
“Dohee, tell me any wish you want. Mom will grant it all.”
“It’s fine. What wish?”
“Don’t be like that. My daughter got 100s all throughout elementary school, so Mom has to do something for you. Hurry and tell me.”
A wish, huh.
There wasn’t anything I particularly needed.
Should we just all go on an overseas trip as a family?
Ever since I went on that school trip to Jeju last time, my desire to travel had been welling up.
Or should I say I don’t want to go to middle school and want to take the qualification exam instead?
That sounds good, actually.
“Mom, then can I not go to middle school?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can just take the qualification exam.”
In an instant, Mom’s expression turned serious as she said to me.
“Anything but that.”
“What kind of wish is that! Why call it a wish if you’re going to be like this!”
“Wish canceled.”
Excuse me?
“Mom?”
“Practicing must be really tiring, right? Mom should get you some expensive herbal medicine that’s good for your body.”
“No, what about my wish?”
“You’ll be late for lessons. Hurry up and go to work.”
“I said I want to take the qualification exam.”
“Should Mom give you a ride?”
“Hello?”
“Let’s go. Mom will take you.”
Mom took the car keys and left through the front door, pretending not to hear a single thing I said until the very end.
Ah.
.
.
.
December, with less than two weeks left until graduation.
My homeroom teacher called me, so I went to the teachers’ office.
“Teacher, I’m here.”
“Oh, Dohee, you’re here?”
“Yes. Why did you call me?”
The teacher picked up the camera on her desk and began filming me.
“Dohee, we’re filming a simple video to play at the graduation ceremony, so could you look at the camera and say a word of congratulations to your friends?”
“...Yes.”
“Go ahead. ‘Everyone, congratulations on graduating.’”
“Could you say a little more? From the beginning again.”
What should I say...?
“Everyone, congratulations on graduating. I hope all of you, filled with potential, will come into full bloom.”
“Wow, Dohee, you speak so well~”
“Thank you. Then I’ll be going now.”
I bowed to the teacher and was about to leave the teachers’ office.
“Ah, wait a moment, Dohee!”
When I turned around, the teacher took a sheet of paper from her desk and handed it to me.
“What is this?”
On the paper I received, it said: Graduation Ceremony Student Representative Reply Address.
“Oh, it’s last year’s graduation ceremony student representative reply address.”
“But why are you giving this to me...?”
“Because I’d like you to give the reply address as the student representative on graduation day.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that usually done by the student council president?”
“The principal said she’d like you to do it this time.”
“What? Why?”
“Hmm, I don’t really know what the principal is thinking either, but wouldn’t you know the reason better than I do?”
“No, I don’t, Teacher.”
I said I don’t know.
“Then for now, I’ll assume you’re doing it, okay? Write the reply address by the end of this week and show it to me. You can refer to last year’s address, or you can write it however you want. I need to go print some handouts, so I’ll be off!”
The teacher quickly got up from her seat and left the teachers’ office.
Ah.
That night.
“Sigh... Should I write this or not?”
Should I just write it halfheartedly?
It’s not like I’m doing it because I want to anyway.
Yeah, I’ll just write something like, Thank you, teachers. Friends, thank you. Juniors, thank you. Where there are meetings, there are also farewells. Something like that.
But as I wrote, I started wondering if this was really right.
It was still something I would say on behalf of the graduating class.
Sigh... Fine. I’ll write it properly. Since I’m doing it, I might as well make it a good memory for the kids.
.
.
.
December 31st, graduation ceremony.
The graduation ceremony began.
As was customary, after the opening and the pledge of allegiance, a video played on the stage.
From the very beginning, my face was plastered right there on the screen.
The me on the screen said.
—Everyone, congratulations on graduating. I hope all of you, filled with potential, will come into full bloom.—
Yeah, this much doesn’t even embarrass me anymore.
What’s wrong with my face? It’s pretty, that’s all.
The video with a close-up of my face ended.
Then came the principal’s congratulatory address.
The graduation performance by the current students.
And the farewell address by the current students.
And now it was my turn.
The teacher serving as the host said.
“Following the farewell address by the current student representative, we will now have the reply address by the graduating student representative. Student Lee Dohee, please come up to the podium.”
Whew.
I went up to the podium and took the microphone.
Everyone’s attention focused on me.
“Hello. I am the graduating student representative, Lee Dohee.”
“First, before my reply address, I would like to thank everyone who has attended today.”
“It has already been six years since we entered this school.”
“And looking back, six years was a short time.”
“For reference, I am still thirteen years old.”
People let out small laughs.
“It may sound funny for someone as young as me to say that time was short, but in another six years, my friends and I, young children as we are, will become adults.”
“Graduating from elementary school, I think, means being closer to adulthood than one might expect.”
“And yet, we still don’t know what we ought to do, and we are the ones more worried first about the middle school life waiting just ahead of us.”
“However, all of us know what direction we should move in.”
“When people ask about someone else’s future, they all say the same thing. ‘What is your dream?’”
“For us children, full of possibilities for the future, finding our dreams must be our first goal.”
“I hope all of my friends find the dreams they truly want for themselves.”
“In that sense, I will end with a quote from Thomas Carlyle.”
“A person with a clear purpose will make progress on even the roughest road.”
“Once again, I thank everyone who has attended today, and in particular, I would like to tell all our parents that we truly love you. Thank you.”
When I finished speaking and came down from the podium, people applauded.
I didn’t know whether it was simply ceremonial or because it was worth applauding, but there was one thing I did know.
My dream is to become an idol.
I want to become an idol and stand on stage.
I want to hear the cheers of the audience.