“Are you a teacher too?” One day, a student’s question shook the librarian’s identity.
I thought everything would be fine once I passed the teacher certification exam and became a teacher, but as a non-homeroom teacher and non-subject teacher, I had to deal with the vague value of my existence, prejudiced views, and an atmosphere where I was not recognized as a teacher.
At the age of twenty-six, he received his first assignment at a middle school. Despite being a teacher, he was still a clumsy and young newcomer to society.


This book was first published independently and received much love before being officially published.
This book offers empathy and comfort to anyone who has ever experienced being a minority in a group.

One day, my mother said that she also gets angry when my grandmother cries.
He said that he was hesitant to look at his grandmother's face when she cried, but not when other people cried at all.
I just wished it would stop quickly.
When the person most precious to me is sad, why can't I readily hold their hand or pat their back?
Why do my mom and I ignore each other's mothers?

Maybe you don't have the confidence to face it head on.
My mother's distorted expression, my mother's shaking shoulders, my mother's sorrowful cries, or everything about my mother.
Or, I see myself as someone who can't handle any of these.
I wonder if he's deliberately avoiding me because he's afraid that I'll get hurt because of his mom.
--- p.24 From “I don’t have the confidence to make the first call”

“Are you a teacher too?”
What a contradictory sentence this is.
You call me teacher, but I'm not really a teacher! Kids call all the adults at school teacher.
I can't tell if the man in the library is a teacher, a librarian, or a college student volunteer, but I just call him "teacher."
However, I do not consider myself a teacher like my homeroom teacher or the subject teachers who teach my classes.


On the day I was proctoring the English midterm exam for my second year, a boy who was a regular at the library looked startled as I entered the classroom.
I was wondering why he was acting like that, but then I felt like I was hit in the head by what the student said.
Teacher, weren't you the library janitor? The part that hit me was so cold I couldn't say anything.

--- p.31 From “Are you a teacher too?”

No matter how many programs I open and how many different educational activities I undertake, I feel like the prejudice I face will still persist.
I thought I was living well and doing well, but then someone's casual remark made me feel like everything was being denied.
'It's good to have, but it's okay if you don't have it.'
Am I really just that kind of being?

--- p.38 From "Is there that much to do?"

Teachers said they had to be sensitive.
He said that even if students don't express their feelings first, they need to have a sensitive eye to be able to tell that something is different today just by looking at their eyes and expressions.
But at this point, I think I should be more numb.

--- p.65 From "Nauseating Iced Chocolate Latte"

I never knew that even as an adult, I would feel this much desire to be cared for by someone.
I wish someone would catch me as I slide down that unexpected path.
I want to be held tightly in someone's arms like a puzzle, facing each other head-on.
I want to be supported solely for my existence without any conditions.
Can I, like this, look after others?

--- p.78 From “Inbok”

Those days were truly weak, ignorant, and childish.
I always thought I had to deal with all the things that were poking my torso and head.
He was holding the wound with his small hands so that no one would see the dark red blood flowing out.
I tried to embrace everything without knowing anything, really nothing.
I didn't want to look at the fragments of those times, which were too harsh to be glorified with words like growth and maturity, so I just buried them deep in the ground.

--- p.93 From “I’ve cried a lot because I was sad”