hankyoreh

5-6 percent lower than for john school attendees in Europe.

It has been over three years since the “john school” was introduced in South Korea. It is a special school for prostitution-related sex offenders, taking its name from the way in which men in the United States arrested for buying sexual services would lie to the police that their name was “John,” the most common name in the country. Its official title is the “Education Center for the Prevention of Repeat Offenses by Purchasers of Sexual Services as a Condition of Suspended Sentencing.” [unconfirmed] Its mission is to give first offenders arrested for purchasing sexual services a chance at education to straighten out distorted sexual consciousness before they create a criminal history.

By the end of September 2008, 42,454 “students” had passed through this school in the three years since its founding. The Ministry of Justice is judging its program to be successful. According to a 2006 survey of 1,385 individuals who have attended the john school, 69.6 percent of respondents said the program was beneficial, and it was shown that their sexual consciousness have since improved.

How is education conducted at this school? How are the attendees actually taking this school? A Hankyoreh reporter visited the john school for himself when, for the first time since its opening, the school opened its doors to the press. Naturally, the school’s consent was obtained, and the journalist concealed his identity when attending the class.

8:50 a.m., October 16, the opening day for education at the john school. The place is located on the second floor of the Nambu Probation Office in Seoul’s Sinjeong-dong. A total of 25 people are here to receive education today, including this reporter. All of the students hang their heads, with gloomy expressions on their faces. Not a single word is spoken. Five wear baseball caps, and more than 10 are wearing black jackets. The atmosphere of wishing to conceal something is apparent. Amid this awkward atmosphere, two people are sharing a conversation. As I discreetly listen in, I learn that they are friends who joined the school after they were forcibly sent back to Korea while purchasing sexual services in Southeast Asia. We might call them the “overseas exchange student group.”

The class begins at 9:00 a.m. exactly. Only one seat is empty. The first period is class registration and pre-education. The man in charge, Kim Myeong-deuk [unconfirmed], calls roll and passes out the oath and a questionnaire while collecting resident cards. He says that identification will be returned after the class ends at 6:00 p.m.. On the oath, it says, “Students attending must cooperate with the lecture. In the event of disobedience, the student will be removed from the premises and may be prosecuted.” We are warned that no writing is permitted during class and ordered to clear the tops of our desks. He says that this is because there are some people who try to take out their memo books and work during class.

We are told that in the morning there will be classes on the criminality and harmfulness of sex crimes and testimonials from women victimized by prostitution, followed in the afternoon by classes on AIDS education and sociodramas to improve sexual awareness.

Finally, it is lunchtime. The Nambu Probation Office is located in a factory district, so there are almost no restaurants in the vicinity. Most of the attendees resolved their eating issues at a restaurant in the building’s basement. Following lunch, I go to the first floor and see a student in his mid-40s who had been eating next to me. I sit next to him and start a conversation, saying, “I used my corporate card to entertain a guest, and I’m doing this to spare the guest I was entertaining.”

After we talk for a while, a man in his early 30s who was sitting in the very front row comes over. He confesses, “I went to a massage parlor and was busted. It was so embarrassing.” He told his company he was going to the hospital, he adds. Both men’s faces are flushed with the displeasure of being “caught through bad luck.”

Another man in his 30s, a sour expression on his face, says, “I held out, saying I wasn’t going to go, but when they said they were going to put me on the wanted list, I had no choice but to go to the police station.”

The sixth and seventh periods, starting at 3:00 p.m., were the times set aside for the “sociodramas.” The sociodrama, based on social issues, is a form of improvisational theater in which the performers -- patients or students -- act spontaneously according to instructions given by a director (a doctor or teacher). During the performance, an arrest scene is reenacted, and there is also a scene depicting the overcoming of the desire to hire a prostitute.

Eighth period, the final hour. The class ends with us writing our impressions of the experience. After signing a certificate of completion, the students receive their resident cards back and quickly walk out of the lecture room. I go out first and wait in the smoking area to ask my “classmates” if their sexual consciousness has really changed after completing the course. But nobody approaches me. Even the people I smoked with before are ignoring one another and hurriedly moving toward the darkened street.

The next day, I look at data obtained through unofficial research conducted by the Justice Ministry in 2006. According to the data, 3.4 percent of john school students are caught again for buying sex. The figure is 5-6 percent lower than the second offense rate for john school attendees in Europe. But to this honorary attendee, it seems a pity. If a john school attendee is caught purchasing sex again, he receives a weighted penalty, with the suspended sentence for his previous charges added on. This is the price they pay for breaking their oath with their classmates.

Please direct questions or comments to [englishhani@hani.co.kr]