Not necessarily because I no longer care about my job or my co-workers or my students. I simply no longer care if they are angry or bored or feel cheated. I just don’t. At this point, my relationship with the aforementioned people is for a limited time. So the kids can pout, sulk, and whine all they would like… as long as they behave when it counts.
Example One:
I live in the country. My school has a garden. My vice principal and co-workers love to pick random food objects from the garden, cook them, and eat them. It doesn’t matter if it’s 10 am or 1 pm (right after lunch) or 4:59 pm; they love to eat. Woo, fresh, organic food for free! Great, right? Well, yes… and no. In the handful of Korean words that I know that are actually USEFUL, fruits and vegetables are pretty solid. But I go to the point where the mere mention of “ok su su” sent me scurrying off to find some children to harass or a long trip to the bathroom cum walk the circumference of the school and go visit the other building. What is ok su su? Yellow cardboard. In English, we would call it the ‘most awful feedlot corn that even mutant cows would spit out in disgust.’ And they love it!
To the point where it was being brought out EVERY SINGLE DAY in generous proportions to accommodate elephants. The result being, no matter how slowly I crunched away at the tasteless kernels and despite choosing the smallest pieces, I would end up eating a good 2-3 ears of corn.
So one day, I just snapped.
Mustering up all my oh-ha-ha, I’m a silly foreigner, I prepared for a performance not for my usual audience but for adults. ‘Airen! Ok su su~!’ I immediately plastered on a look of surprised shock and threw my hands up like a rabid bat was going for my face. Then I wailed ‘Ok su su aniiiiiyoooo!’
To my surprise, it worked. I have yet to be offered another piece of corn. But that could be because it was the end of the season.
Now that the corn threat has passed it is the dreaded pobo (grapes).
Example Two:
To say my after school classes are trying is an understatement. I am basically a gloried babysitter for all the reject kids. No, seriously, I am. All the kids in my classes are there because: 1. Their home lives suck and they’re hiding 2. Their home lives are okay but their parents can’t or won’t pay for private lessons 3. They weren’t allowed in any other afterschool programs (art, piano, violin, Chinese, whatever). Only a few are there because they like me and/or English.
My most challenging class is the kids with mood disorders. One of the girls spent today face down (in school hour class with Maggie Teacher), absolutely refusing to participate. So you can imagine my joy at getting this same sulky kid. The other little girl isn’t as bad but she isn’t the brightest crayon. The third girl is fine but lazy and sick all the time. All three frequently try to bully me, walk out on the class, and refuse to participate unless it’s a power point game.
My solution?
‘Teacha, gaim!’
‘Sorry, the computer’s broken.’ (unplugged before hand)
I watched the kid futilely try to “revive” the computer for several minutes before offering her a book to read.
Imagine my surprise when sulky girl (who did not participate in the lesson at all) and I have no idea what’s going on girl (who’s eyes glazed over and spent most of the lesson doodling) basically read the entire book without help.
W.T.F?
Earlier in the day they couldn’t even string together ‘I am jumping’ and suddenly they’re reading a book with full sentences?
I’ve decided that the kids play stupid to weasel out of participating. This isn’t the first time in afterschool I’ve seen them do something very well and then they go into real class and suddenly act clueless. Of course, when I tell Maggie this, she doesn’t really believe me.
So where’s the I don’t give a flying duck?
As they inevitably got bored, I had them work on their play script. It is ridiculously easy (my 1st and 2nd graders could perform it with some coaching) and two of the girls could sight read it. Both Sulky and Clueless refused to read and asked when they got to go home.
My response?
‘Never. I work until 5pm. We will stay here until we finish reading through the script.’
Lo and behold, my new attitude of ‘you waste my time, I waste yours’ is brilliant. Their time is infinitely more important to them than anything else. Demon teacher 1, sulky little brats 0.
Example 3:
I have spent the past 6 months attempting to win over the ring leader of my 4th grade class. Nothing I tried worked. Outside of class and away from his buddies, he’s a sweet little kid. In class, he’s a holy terror. Suddenly, in the past 2 weeks he’s been behaving beautifully and eagerly participating. I asked my teacher what she bribed him with and she laughed and said, ‘I encourage him.’ That, my dear readers, is utter bullshit. This kid loves praise, that is true, but he’s a shrewd little con artist too. Well, she can have her secrets, I will take my well-behaved little ring leader, whose good behavior has been affecting his little buddies too.
Now, I have a drumstick I like to teach with, and yes, I use it…
And if you’re thinking what my mom was, no, I’ve never hit any of the kids with it! Why do you think the Koreans would let me hit their kids? They can do that themselves; that’s not the place for outsiders. Don’t you know anything about racism?!!
Anyway, I generally point at the board/screen, bang the table, turn on the projector, poke sleeping students, and wave the stick around. I love that stick and wonder if I can sneak it out when I leave.
Mister Ring Leader, ever materialistic, was begging me for a sticker (I’ve decided the kids actually PREFER stickers to candy. Why? My guess is they can SEE their “improvement” long after they’ve eaten the candy. Or they could just like stickers. I like stickers). I goes, “You want a stick?” It took him a few repetitions until he realized what I was saying. The sticker requests stopped HAHA.
Instead, I let him use the stick. I’ve never seen a kid so happy… unless I happen to be carrying the yellow smilie ball…
Not Example 4 but…
Today I had the balls with me. I have two balls. One is a small yellow bean bag-esque ball with a smilie face on it. The kids love that ball so, so, so much. Unfortunately, it’s been so love that it is no longer yellow exactly, but the love has not diminished. The second ball is a neon orange bean bag basketball. I use these balls for a variety of activities and they are the best $2 I’ve spent on my short teaching career.
Kids love balls.
Anyway, I was teaching with Maggie today. Which generally entails me standing to the side looking bored and waiting for my cue, disciplining students in the back, pretending to be a tape recorder, or helping 1/3 of the class with the difficult worksheets she loves to hand out. Occasionally she lets me step up, but since she thinks so little of my ability, it’s usually with limited capacity.
So I’m standing there and I hear… ‘give me the yellow ball, I want the yellow ball.’ I look down and one of the students is practically chanting this. I try not to crack up and say no, pay attention to Maggie. His chant went on for a good 20 minutes, while he said things like ‘A ninja is faster than Maggie Teacher’ and ‘A ninja is stronger than Erin Teacher’ and ‘you die.’ (the previous chapter was comparatives best/better and strong/stronger and tall/taller).
I wish I’d get that much participation during my classes!
I think that will be my going-away present to him.
Real Example 4:
So I brought the balls into class. There is a very simple game that is great called 'Pass the Ball.' Want to hazard a guess as to how it is played? Yes, that's right, you pass the ball until the music stops. Whoever has the ball has to answer the prompt.
Simple, right? We've played this game a million times.
Apparently having two balls turned it into rocket science.
Maggie Teacher: tell them how to play
Me: okay guys, you are team a, you are team b. The ball goes like this.
MT: show them again. They don't understand.
Me: *exaggerated motions* Back, back, back, next to, in front, in front...
MT: *conferring with the students* They want to know why they can't throw the ball is this way.
Me: I DON'T CARE. Just pass the ball.
So instead of going over the dialogue, I pushed play. Turns out they remembered how to pass the ball after all without any problems. Was it necessary to have a 5 minute discussion on how to throw a ball?
This is what I deal with regularly. You thought the hicks and Mexicans at Petsmart were bad... well, actually, I'd say they were worse, but this is a close second.
OR, there's this kid:
Okay, he doesn't wear a cow suit, but otherwise it's pretty accurate. He's whiny, a crybaby, runty, is excessively loud, and constantly provokes a beat down from the other students. I think he's annoying yet somehow very cute. Like how screaming babies had pheromones to keep you from smashing their skulls in when you're running on three quarters of an hour's sleep and have to go to work soon.
I'm pretty sure this kid has fetal alcohol syndrome. Really, he fits pretty much all the criteria.
Anyway, we were reading sentences. He was eagerly waiting for his turn. I pointed at the letter 'I' He jumped up and started stuttering 'am... are... you... G??? Q????' Each time I shook my head he'd get more and more desperate for the right answer. I could just see his little gears grinding furiously because HE KNEW IT! Finally, desperate and squirmy, he bawled at me, 'Help, teacha, hint!' I took pity on him and gave him a 'hint' (the answer).
The next day he proudly ran up to me and said 'gom!' Baffled, I told him I didn't have a ball with me. He repeated it and nodded. O-kay, don't have a bear either. He stared at me and very deliberately went, 'chew-ing-gom.' The Korean teacher I was eating with and I both went A-HA, GUM. Haha, apparently they had been watching Willy Wonka and he was telling me he learned how to say 'gum' in English.
This is what I work with. On a daily basis.
Little things like that make me wish I was staying longer. I really wish I could have stayed until the end of the semester, but unfortunately, that would just make too much sense. I mean, re-signing for two months and not putting out for a new English teacher until next year? That’s silly. Because throwing a new teacher in two months before the end of the year is the way to go.
I have learned so much this year about being a teacher, child psychology, problem solving, communication, and humor than I think I ever could have imagined before.
Or... I could do THIS:
Or this:
for a living. All while doing 'spirit fingers' a billion times a day.
As a side note, I seem to really confuse people. I’ve been asked if I’m Russian, Canadian, and German… well the latter two I can understand. Sort of. Luckily, I have a great friend who sent me this:
However, I felt it needed a little modification, so:
Much better :D Sadly, iron on American flags aren’t very popular in Korea for some reason. I will rectify when I get back to homeland soil where people don’t usually wear leopard print and hot pink floral together with a green hand bag and brown loafers.
I've also been told I sound like I come from The South (er... okay?) and Minnesota (must be that Canadian vibe I give off?).
Also, as usually, my pictures from my Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving) are uploaded
