Confessions of a Media Whore
Date Thursday, March 28, 2024 - 04:25 AM PST
Topic Work


I am not, and I will repeat this, I am not a media whore. I despise media, I don’t like cameras; I’d rather not be interviewed. That doesn’t mean that I’m not an exhibitionist and an attention whore, it means that I like to be in control of the show that I’m putting on, rather than being controlled by they show. Again, I’m not a media whore.
However, when you throw a new school, a new program, and the governor of a large province outside of Seoul into the mix, you suddenly find yourself on the receiving end of the big intrusive camera that you cannot shy away from. That camera in your face, taunting you, big, brute, and hard, and knowing that it’s going to get what it wants in the end, while you have to stand there, feeling exposed, but all the while knowing that it will pay the bills.

So you stand there, and you smile, you fake it, because you have to fake it, you laugh, you giggle, you say yes and ask for more, because you have to, and then, when it’s all over, finally, it’s not all over. I clean myself off, I button back up my blouse, and then I prepare for take two.

And then, on top of all that, when the cameras aren’t around you have reporters pulling you into side rooms and pressing into you with their notebooks and prying minds. They ask questions that make me feel dirty, and they keep pressuring me for answers they know I can’t give them, but I’m not allowed to say no. You want to keep your job, you want to get paid, so you bow under the pressure and open yourself up again, give what you have to give, and hope to get out of the seedy backrooms without being seen by others. You don’t want anyone to know.

Finally, I think to myself, I can teach my class in peace anyway. I get up in front of my students to put on a grand show that some call education, others entertainment and I refer to as the supreme domination of children. I love the power and the authority of administering to my classroom. I enjoy putting them through the paces and making them jump through hoops.

But then, to my horror and disgust, in come the flashing lights, and the cameras and suddenly the purity of my show, the domination of my class turns into yet another submission act, more like a gang bang, as I’m forced to manipulate my classes for the cameras, and the reporters, and the interviewers. Suddenly I’m being asked for my climax, when we have barely even begun our lesson. Real learning, the important stuff, the stuff that takes patience, requires time, and a subtle touch, becomes a garish show, garnished with bright colors, and syrupy smiles for cameramen, and bored rich housewives.

I’m not a media whore, but lately I certainly feel like one. The more I try to close myself all the faster they find me, and put me on stage, and make me perform my act one more time, taking out of it all pleasure, and worse, making it into just a job.


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