안녕하세요.
Hello readers. It's been a full week since my last post, and part of me actually feels a little guilty about that. So, let me explain.
This last week has been FILLED with blogworthy things. The drama at work has measured an 8.5 on the "Days of our Lives" scale, but unfortunately I care about peoples feelings too much to write up about their problems on a blog... even when their problems DO affect me and the entire office in a negative way.
But, what I can say is that now my school is looking for a new teacher, here at the beginning of a new monthly schedule, and it's got everyone pretty stressed out. Hagwon working is not for the faint of heart or those with a weak stomach. It is busy, at times disgusting (kindergarten children can be really dirty), and always measures a shade of "stressful", even on the days when there's not much going on.
At a Hagwon, or at least at some Hagwons, you are the slave to the children's parents. What the parents want when it comes to their children, the parents get. Already I've had some pretty interesting experiences with selfish, demanding, and totally spoiled Hagwon moms who think that because they're paying for their children to get a better English education that means that the teachers should treat them like royalty.
Do I have a problem with parents being concerned about their childrens educations? No, not at all. I think it's great that they look into it, and give enough of a flyin' flip to stop by and make sure we're treating their children properly. But when the parents watch classes and the criticism is "The teacher didn't cuddle my kid enough."/"The teacher needs to ask my kid more questions (when either that kid is the ONLY kid who talks in class, or when that kid is so absolutely rude and uninterested that they do everything short of throwing up the middle finger at you when you venture to include them in class)."/ "My kid has a runny nose, and the teacher didn't help her blow it!".... Yeah, it gets kind of ridiculous.
That last one... it's true. One of the youngin's moms came to watch the other day. Her child is wild, misbehaved, dirty (puts random stuff in her mouth all the time, blows her nose in her hand and so on), and generally a pain in everyone's rear end. But, she's really smart, she likes to play, and she can be really sweet. She's not a bad kid, she's just really misbehaved in class, and there's nothing we can do about it. Why? Because her mom gets upset when we punish her. We work on a 'sticker' system in the younger classes. If they're good they get so many stickers at the end of the period. If I take away any of this child's stickers her mom will have something to say about it.
The other day, this little girl was feeling kind of ill. I felt sorry for her, because no one likes to feel bad, and I don't want anyone to feel bad (especially not kids). She had a really runny nose, and her mom was watching that day. So what are my instructions?
"Help her blow her nose.".
Excuse me?
Help her blow her nose? Are you kidding me? This little girl is entirely capable of doing that on her own, in fact she ALWAYS does it on her own. She knows how, she's had a lot of practice. Her nose has been runny since I started working there, and I'm sure it was runny before that. She's got the whole "I can blow my own nose" thing down pat. But, since the mom was watching, I had to oblige.
Needless to say, it was disgusting, and I felt slightly used. Some of you reading are probably thinking "And she wants to be a MOM?! HA!".
To that I say "Hush up." Of course I want to be a Mom, I want a lot of kids. I can deal with kid 'icky' just fine when that kid is part of my family, or is a child that I am particularly fond of. Love does a lot to secure courage and almost complete indifference concerning that area, and I'm not worried even a little bit that I'll have a hard time with any of that when it comes to my children.
But someone else's kid? The most appropriate word I can think of is, "Ugh".
Anyway, I helped the little gal blow her nose, and her mom was pleased. So my discomfort brought forth positive feedback that I appreciate... and, I can safely say, worked hard for.
Letting go is hard to do.
When I began teaching, I had no idea how attached I was going to become to some of these students. I knew that I was going to be fond of a few of them, because I like kids, and spending that much time with anyone is going to entail some kind of bonding. But last week, I was given the opportunity to realize how attached I actually was (and without even knowing it!).
My oldest class (a bunch of 13 year olds) is my last class of the day on MWF. It's all boys, and one shy, hardworking, girl that doesn't talk much in class but is totally sweet and the best English speaker in that level. Needless to say, sometimes that class is pandemonium. The boys are chaos. They say bad words, they fight with each other, they speak Korean in class, they don't do their work. But they're all very intelligent, and we usually have a good time. They like to joke around, and their English is good enough to where we can have some interesting conversations.
That class is the biggest pain, but believe it or not it's my favorite. I see a little bit of myself as a teen in the girl, and there's never a dull moment with those boys.
One of the most difficult, yet hilarious, boys was "M". He hardly did his homework, and he fought a lot with the other boys in class, but when he put forth effort he did amazingly. He always had the most interesting things to talk about. His favorite topic? Music and G-dragon (a famous pop/hip hop artist here in Korea. Not exactly what I'd call the most appropriate role model for a 13 year old boy, but hey, could be worse.)
Friday was speaking test day, and everyone but one boy and the girl failed. Failed as in they could have scored better answering the questions in German. I yelled at everyone. I mean, I really made a show of being upset (even though, I really wasn't that mad, just disappointed). I almost made one of them cry, because surprisingly everyone thought they had done well. Pfffft!
Then, about 10 minutes later, I take each one of them out of the class and we have a 'heart-to-heart'. I encourage them and tell them that I know they can do better (because they totally can! They're smart kids!). They promise to study over the weekend and do better on their make-up test on Monday.
I was concerned about "M", because this was our conversation:
Me: "You're way too smart to be failing speaking tests. Did you even study?"
M: "Just a very little."
Me: "Well, you're one of the smartest kids in there (not a lie), so I expect more from you. You can be an awesome English speaker, but you've got to try. Okay?"
M: *still looking upset* "Okay."
Me: "So, are you going to study this weekend?"
M: "Maybe."
MAYBE?! I barely resisted the urge to smack him with the rolled up paper I had in my hand.
Anyway, I didn't have high hopes for him doing much better on the Monday test, but when test time rolled around he aced it. The look on his face when I showed him his grade was absolute pride. THAT kind of thing makes being a teacher totally worth it.
Then, right after the speaking tests were over, I re-enter the class and suddenly the boys are yelling. "M's last day! M's last day!!!".
What?
Apparently M and his family were moving to a new city in Busan, and M was switching Hagwons (same Hagwon, different city). At first my reaction was the same as it had been in the past when students moved with their families and left the Hagwon. I just wished them luck and felt basically indifferent.
But about 2 minutes later I start feeling... sad?! That's right. I was totally getting the urge to shed a tear or two. It was then that I realized, that even though this class was a pain, they were becoming like some weird little cousins of mine. It was my job to teach them, make them laugh, give them a hard time, and encourage them to do their best while using the "tough love" method to get the appropriate results. And it was their job to give me a hard time back, while totally making all the effort worth it in the end by surprising me with their intelligence, and occasional bouts of effort and episodes of maturity.
Do I feel proud of this class? You better believe it. So seeing one of them go was hard.
All of this makes me curious about what sort of "Empty Nester" I'm going to be, but when I start to think about it too much I begin to feel this bubble of anxiety form and I get the urge to swig gin.
Well, there's actually quite a bit more to write about (as my Saturday has been utterly spectacular so far), but I've got to be somewhere pretty soon. So, I'll put forth a valiant effort to write a "Part II" of this blog tonight or tomorrow.
Until then, enjoy my ranting. (And excuse any typos, I don't have time to proof read.)
Toodles.
Your blog host,
Auggie.
Hello readers. It's been a full week since my last post, and part of me actually feels a little guilty about that. So, let me explain.
This last week has been FILLED with blogworthy things. The drama at work has measured an 8.5 on the "Days of our Lives" scale, but unfortunately I care about peoples feelings too much to write up about their problems on a blog... even when their problems DO affect me and the entire office in a negative way.
But, what I can say is that now my school is looking for a new teacher, here at the beginning of a new monthly schedule, and it's got everyone pretty stressed out. Hagwon working is not for the faint of heart or those with a weak stomach. It is busy, at times disgusting (kindergarten children can be really dirty), and always measures a shade of "stressful", even on the days when there's not much going on.
At a Hagwon, or at least at some Hagwons, you are the slave to the children's parents. What the parents want when it comes to their children, the parents get. Already I've had some pretty interesting experiences with selfish, demanding, and totally spoiled Hagwon moms who think that because they're paying for their children to get a better English education that means that the teachers should treat them like royalty.
Do I have a problem with parents being concerned about their childrens educations? No, not at all. I think it's great that they look into it, and give enough of a flyin' flip to stop by and make sure we're treating their children properly. But when the parents watch classes and the criticism is "The teacher didn't cuddle my kid enough."/"The teacher needs to ask my kid more questions (when either that kid is the ONLY kid who talks in class, or when that kid is so absolutely rude and uninterested that they do everything short of throwing up the middle finger at you when you venture to include them in class)."/ "My kid has a runny nose, and the teacher didn't help her blow it!".... Yeah, it gets kind of ridiculous.
That last one... it's true. One of the youngin's moms came to watch the other day. Her child is wild, misbehaved, dirty (puts random stuff in her mouth all the time, blows her nose in her hand and so on), and generally a pain in everyone's rear end. But, she's really smart, she likes to play, and she can be really sweet. She's not a bad kid, she's just really misbehaved in class, and there's nothing we can do about it. Why? Because her mom gets upset when we punish her. We work on a 'sticker' system in the younger classes. If they're good they get so many stickers at the end of the period. If I take away any of this child's stickers her mom will have something to say about it.
The other day, this little girl was feeling kind of ill. I felt sorry for her, because no one likes to feel bad, and I don't want anyone to feel bad (especially not kids). She had a really runny nose, and her mom was watching that day. So what are my instructions?
"Help her blow her nose.".
Excuse me?
Help her blow her nose? Are you kidding me? This little girl is entirely capable of doing that on her own, in fact she ALWAYS does it on her own. She knows how, she's had a lot of practice. Her nose has been runny since I started working there, and I'm sure it was runny before that. She's got the whole "I can blow my own nose" thing down pat. But, since the mom was watching, I had to oblige.
Needless to say, it was disgusting, and I felt slightly used. Some of you reading are probably thinking "And she wants to be a MOM?! HA!".
To that I say "Hush up." Of course I want to be a Mom, I want a lot of kids. I can deal with kid 'icky' just fine when that kid is part of my family, or is a child that I am particularly fond of. Love does a lot to secure courage and almost complete indifference concerning that area, and I'm not worried even a little bit that I'll have a hard time with any of that when it comes to my children.
But someone else's kid? The most appropriate word I can think of is, "Ugh".
Anyway, I helped the little gal blow her nose, and her mom was pleased. So my discomfort brought forth positive feedback that I appreciate... and, I can safely say, worked hard for.
Letting go is hard to do.
When I began teaching, I had no idea how attached I was going to become to some of these students. I knew that I was going to be fond of a few of them, because I like kids, and spending that much time with anyone is going to entail some kind of bonding. But last week, I was given the opportunity to realize how attached I actually was (and without even knowing it!).
My oldest class (a bunch of 13 year olds) is my last class of the day on MWF. It's all boys, and one shy, hardworking, girl that doesn't talk much in class but is totally sweet and the best English speaker in that level. Needless to say, sometimes that class is pandemonium. The boys are chaos. They say bad words, they fight with each other, they speak Korean in class, they don't do their work. But they're all very intelligent, and we usually have a good time. They like to joke around, and their English is good enough to where we can have some interesting conversations.
That class is the biggest pain, but believe it or not it's my favorite. I see a little bit of myself as a teen in the girl, and there's never a dull moment with those boys.
One of the most difficult, yet hilarious, boys was "M". He hardly did his homework, and he fought a lot with the other boys in class, but when he put forth effort he did amazingly. He always had the most interesting things to talk about. His favorite topic? Music and G-dragon (a famous pop/hip hop artist here in Korea. Not exactly what I'd call the most appropriate role model for a 13 year old boy, but hey, could be worse.)
Friday was speaking test day, and everyone but one boy and the girl failed. Failed as in they could have scored better answering the questions in German. I yelled at everyone. I mean, I really made a show of being upset (even though, I really wasn't that mad, just disappointed). I almost made one of them cry, because surprisingly everyone thought they had done well. Pfffft!
Then, about 10 minutes later, I take each one of them out of the class and we have a 'heart-to-heart'. I encourage them and tell them that I know they can do better (because they totally can! They're smart kids!). They promise to study over the weekend and do better on their make-up test on Monday.
I was concerned about "M", because this was our conversation:
Me: "You're way too smart to be failing speaking tests. Did you even study?"
M: "Just a very little."
Me: "Well, you're one of the smartest kids in there (not a lie), so I expect more from you. You can be an awesome English speaker, but you've got to try. Okay?"
M: *still looking upset* "Okay."
Me: "So, are you going to study this weekend?"
M: "Maybe."
MAYBE?! I barely resisted the urge to smack him with the rolled up paper I had in my hand.
Anyway, I didn't have high hopes for him doing much better on the Monday test, but when test time rolled around he aced it. The look on his face when I showed him his grade was absolute pride. THAT kind of thing makes being a teacher totally worth it.
Then, right after the speaking tests were over, I re-enter the class and suddenly the boys are yelling. "M's last day! M's last day!!!".
What?
Apparently M and his family were moving to a new city in Busan, and M was switching Hagwons (same Hagwon, different city). At first my reaction was the same as it had been in the past when students moved with their families and left the Hagwon. I just wished them luck and felt basically indifferent.
But about 2 minutes later I start feeling... sad?! That's right. I was totally getting the urge to shed a tear or two. It was then that I realized, that even though this class was a pain, they were becoming like some weird little cousins of mine. It was my job to teach them, make them laugh, give them a hard time, and encourage them to do their best while using the "tough love" method to get the appropriate results. And it was their job to give me a hard time back, while totally making all the effort worth it in the end by surprising me with their intelligence, and occasional bouts of effort and episodes of maturity.
Do I feel proud of this class? You better believe it. So seeing one of them go was hard.
All of this makes me curious about what sort of "Empty Nester" I'm going to be, but when I start to think about it too much I begin to feel this bubble of anxiety form and I get the urge to swig gin.
Well, there's actually quite a bit more to write about (as my Saturday has been utterly spectacular so far), but I've got to be somewhere pretty soon. So, I'll put forth a valiant effort to write a "Part II" of this blog tonight or tomorrow.
Until then, enjoy my ranting. (And excuse any typos, I don't have time to proof read.)
Toodles.
Your blog host,
Auggie.
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