draining

These are my two students who came over for lunch. I'm not sure what's up with my face. I think I'm trying not to laugh. The one in the middle is my favoritest ever (HW), who talks to me on the internet all the time. The one on the left is his best friend, and he's really standoffish but funny. He's the one who explained that I was scary because he thinks foreigners eat Koreans. They're really cute.

This is a token picture of me cooking with chopsticks. That's actually just the pasta I'm half-heartedly stirring. :)

Awesome, huh? It looks delicious. The meat was pretty flavorless, but it all came together decently.

Here's an action shot of me chopping vegetables for the spaghetti. I also chopped green peppers. You can see the knee injury post-washing. And those are my new shorts.

Here's my awesome knee injury pre-washing. Thank you, awesome sports photographer Meghan, for getting this shot before you got me tissues. It's the same knee I scraped up before, and which had just started to heal. It bled fast, and dramatically, but it doesn't actually hurt too bad now.

I think I'm making a "What the Hell are you guys DOING?" gesture here.

This is just a great action shot. Kudos to Meghan. It was so bright that she couldn't see anything on the viewfinder, so she warned me that she wasn't sure the ball was actually in any of the pictures.

Another super action shot. I love that kid. He's really awesome.

Seasoned basketball players will be able to spot the problem here easily. No one's REBOUNDING.

Look at that follow-through. Who says white (Asian) men can't jump?

Me and co-teacher before Demonstration Class From Hell. Isn't my board cute? This is, btw, an arms length picture. In case you couldn't tell.

This is the shirt the seamstress made for me, which I love. Especially the lace at the bottom.

There's a word in Korean that means, to the best of my interpretation, "draining," and Koreans use it a lot, usually in the following context: "아... 힘들어!" Kind of the way Americans (at least students), tend to often say they're tired, Koreans will exclaim this in the middle of basketball games, English lessons, and other stressful or tiring situations. And, it's probably the best way to describe last week for me. I was actually pretty happy all of Thursday and Friday morning. I had the demonstration class on Friday afternoon, so I was pretty ahead on lesson planning, and my kids were really good and cute on Thursday. On Thursday, we were told that, although all of the other English teachers in the city were invited, only about 4 or 5 of them would actually be making the trip all the way out to my rural school to watch. Which was sort of fine by me.

Then principal intervened. She was mad that people weren't going to show up, so she called the supervisor and complained, so the supervisor in turn called all the schools and insisted that everyone who didn't have a really concrete excuse come to see my demonstration class. Thanks a lot, principal. So, in fact, there were about twenty people watching, in addition to the camera recording the whole class. I was really nervous, and at no point did I forget about the teachers lining three walls of the room, but I thought it went smoothly enough, and my ninth graders were really excellent, and they all spoke a few words of English, so I was proud and satisfied.

I should interject here that I didn't even want to do this demonstration class. My co-teacher got stuck doing it because she's the youngest English teacher in the city, and even then she tried really hard to get out of it. But before I knew how much stupid paperwork and stress it would add, I was sort of positive on the idea. I figured it might be a little fun. Only after I'd agreed was I informed of some of the downsides: 1. Paperwork. 2. Evaluatory meeting afterwards. 3. Written critiques.

My co-teacher had also told me that the meeting would be no big deal. She reasoned that, because all of the other teachers who came had refused to do the demonstration class, they knew perfectly well how undesirable and difficult a task it was, and they would just make some general positive comments. Unfortunately, that's not what happened. There was a guy there from the super high-level science high school. It's the only science high school for the entire province, so it's really selective in its admissions. Plus, students who want to go to university for science have to take a special English exam, so they're some of the best overall students. This teacher, who we will henceforth refer to as Mr. Jerk, was... well... a jerk.

He spoke English really well, and the entire offensive portion of the meeting took place in English. To give you an idea, he started out with: "So, I noticed that during the game portion of the lesson, the students were speaking to each other in Korean. Was that part of your strategy?"

I wish someone had taken pictures of my efforts to control my facial expressions during this meeting, starting right there. I was expecting general positive stuff, and some simple critiques, not that kind of shit right off the bat. Oh, a little background: the lesson was practicing reading large numbers in English (up to 100 million). This is really hard for Korean people, because they don't even think about numbers in the same terms... They don't divide them into 3-digit segments, or work in thousands. They work in ten thousands, so far as I can tell. So it's a pretty difficult concept. The activity was a team The Price is Right game, wherein they had to guess the price of an item on the Powerpoint and give their guess in English. (Because 1 dollar is = to about 1,000 Korean won, the price of, for example, a laptop, is about 1,400,000 won.)

The thing that troubled me most about all of his comments was that my co-teacher didn't really defend us. And I didn't understand why. She mostly said: "I see your point."

His next question (he was literally one of two people who spoke during the entire meeting), was also phrased in an unpleasant way. "So, is big numbers part of the textbook curriculum, or is it one of those unrelated topics you mentioned?" (My co-teacher had mentioned in her beginning spiel how, if it made sense for me to review the week's grammatical lesson, I did that, but if not, then I taught some other relevant topic.) She said that it was not part of the textbook, but was obviously an important skill, and one that students had a hard time with.

But he wasn't finished. "So there's no continuity between this lesson and the next? Just random topics?" Co-teacher: "Well, there's continuity between Brittany's classes on Thursdays and Fridays."

(In the meantime, I'm writing down a bulleted list of his criticisms and looking only at my notebook so I won't explode. I'm also writing little notes like, "If you're so damned good at teaching English, why didn't you do the demonstration class, jerk?")

Then, the straw that broke the camel's back. He was saying something about how each student only managed to say a few words in English during what was supposed to be a conversation class, and they weren't even able to make sentences like "Your guess is too high. That price is too expensive." My co-teacher made another calm "I see your point," and added something about "working with the level of our students," when he said something to the effect of "Well, have you just given up [on them speaking English]?"

At which point, I'd like to tell you that I snapped and told him off, but I didn't. I didn't speak through the entire meeting. Co-teacher had assured me I didn't have to, and I really wasn't sure I'd be able to summon the necessary amount of restraint and obsequious respect that Korea is known for (thanks, Confucius), so I just stayed quiet, but I do kind of regret that. I think I would have felt better if I'd spoken up, if only then, to assure him that we hadn't, in fact, given up. So anyway, I was livid.

Then he turned to me and condescendingly said, "Sorry, you won't be able to understand this," and proceeded to speak in Korean. I could, unfortunately, pick up such choice phrases as "too much teacher-talk time" and "more student-centered," which made me want to throw up. Thankfully, it ended shortly after that, and my co-teacher could tell I was really upset. Mr. Jerk, too, must have noticed, because he came over and condescendingly said: "I'm sorry for what I said. You did a great job." He was already walking away before he finished the sentence, but thanks a lot.

So after the meeting co-teach explained a few things to me. He's an acquaintance of hers, with whom she's eaten dinner a few times. (He's married with kids, but they were in a study group together at some point.) At first she didn't know how upset I was, so she was just reassuring me that he's kind of an aggressive person, and rude. He felt comfortable saying things in a very frank manner because they know each other, and because she's one of the only teachers who is younger than him. Also, he wants to be an administrator, so he's the kind of person who will work his way up through the ranks by being outspoken and obnoxious. Plus, he simply doesn't grasp the realities of Rural Middle School versus Non-Rural Elite High School. She explained that she just took everything he said with a grain of salt, knowing he was just talking to hear himself talk. She also explained that she didn't bother refuting what he was saying because a.) he just doesn't get it, b.) they've had the conversation before, and c.) the other teachers couldn't understand what they were saying in English, and they all just wanted to go home anyway, so it would have been a waste of everyone's time. Co-teacher also tried to reassure me that any criticisms were directed at her really, since she's the official teacher, but this wasn't any consolation. I designed the flawed lesson plan and activity.

So yeah, I probably just would have called Meghan and ranted to her, but then co-teacher noticed I really was upset, so she made me talk about it, and I started crying. I was crying for two reasons:

1. I was really really frustrated, because I didn't even want to do the damn class in the first place. Then I was reassured that the meeting would be no big deal, and everyone would be nice. Which was not what happened. Not only did Mr. Jerk dominate the discourse... not a single other teacher said anything. The supervisor made some vague compliments, in Korean, but no one disputed a thing he said. And all of the non-negative stuff was in Korean. I could tell that they were compliments, but not the content of any of them. I didn't need compliments... I was proud of my kids. They'd mastered big numbers. But I also didn't need Mr. Jerk's condescension. So I didn't even want to do it, I stressed out about it for weeks ahead of time, and then it turned out so f-ing badly.

2. It's a testament to my increasing humility that when I started to get upset, my first thought was that I'd only get upset if he were right. I assumed the grain of truth was what was bothering me. I know that I don't take criticism very gracefully, although I've certainly gotten better, so I immediately assumed that he was right--I MUST be a bad teacher because my students can't speak fluent English. And there were things about which he was right: 1. Ideally, students should speak in English at all times, even during group work. 2. Too much "teacher talk-time" is bad. 3. Activities should be student-centered.

But the more I thought about it, the more I decided he was just a jerk.

a. My students simply aren't able to converse in full sentences with each other in English. It would be impossible for me to enforce all six groups speak only in English, and they would just be irritated and not speak at all. Maybe it's possible at science high school, but if they were good enough to do groupwork in English, they wouldn't need a conversation class.

b. In my classroom, the fact that every single student actually spoke a few words of English, generated by themselves, is actually the frigging accomplishment of the year. When I taught the Price is Right last year, I didn't force every student to say at least one big number, so this version is much better. I'm going to try to have each student say at least one sentence in every class, but some students are so painfully shy or unconfident that I hate to do it. I walk a fine line trying to make the students feel comfortable enough to try.

c. It's true. I do have about 4 or 5 students who are able to make sentences, and who would benefit from more speaking-based activities, but the other 25 students would then do absolutely nothing during that time. And the higher-level students are all in different groups, because the groups are divided by ability level.

d. But whatever. Perhaps he just felt that he needed to say something, or to give us some advice. Which is fine. But the "Have you given up?" comment was just out of line. Co-teacher explained that if it had been someone she didn't know who said that, she would have been furious. But coming from him... whatever. But I just think it was an asshole thing to say. If he wanted to say an asshole thing like that and not have me take it to heart, he should have said it in Korean. He made the decision to use English knowing that it would allow me to hear it, so perhaps he should have considered how I might interpret what he was saying. I am not his friend, and although it's cool in Korea to be a complete asshole to people younger than you, I'm not Korean.

I've only now gained this perspective though. I cried for about an hour after the meeting on Friday, alternating feeling like a terrible teacher and just being mad about the shitty situation, and I actually started crying again in front of a couple of my students, which perplexed them. Friday after school I skipped my run and crawled straight into bed with the remainder of a bag of Hershey kisses, and didn't get out until Saturday morning at 5:30 when I went jogging to try to shake it off. I finally had to try to explain to host mom why I was so upset, because I didn't get out of bed for dinner the night before, and she was really cute and supportive in broken English. She offered to go to the science high school and call Mr. Jerk out. It was nice.

On Saturday I had a picnic with the third graders (the class I had the demonstration with), so I brought pizza, cheeseburgers, and ice cream to school. (They finish around 12:30 on Saturdays.) They wanted to eat inside, despite it being a beautiful day (70 degrees), but then I got to play basketball, which was awesome. And Meghan was nice enough to help me carry all the food to the picnic, so she was also there to be sports photographer.

Then today my favorite student and his best friend informed me that they were going to stop over to my house for a visit, so I said I'd make lunch. I recruited Meghan, and we went all out for an Italian-American fusion meal. (By which I mean we made bowtie pasta and spaghetti sauce, and bought garlic bread at the bakery.) We did, however, challenge ourselves by purchasing and preparing some Korean meat, which was a first for us (and good practice for upcoming Mexican lunch party). We agreed that, considering what we had to work with, it was pretty good. And my boys didn't hate it, so whatever. Everyone enjoyed the smores we had for dessert more, though. Then, they actually hung out for about 5 hours, playing a Korean board game while I did the dishes, and then voluntarily (if haltingly) speaking English after that. It was pretty awesome. It made me feel like I'm not actually a terrible teacher.

In other news... I bought a new pair of shorts yesterday, which was awesome. As I've mentioned, the weather is improving drastically lately (highs in the 70s all this week, according to my weather widget), and I now have 0 pairs of pants that fit. I have 4 skirts, but especially because school picnic is tomorrow, I needed something comfortable. There's a semi-new Unionbay store in town, and I saw them outside and decided on a whim to try them on. (Usually this is too intimidating. I don't know what size I am, and most little stores don't have big sizes or dressing rooms. It usually requires a lot of trying to speak Korean, and embarrassment.) But yesterday was gold, and I got a cute new pair of knee-length shorts for thirty bucks--well worth it. And now I know what size I am. Success.

Lastly, I read up a storm this week, particularly on Friday when I refused to get out of bed. I already mentioned Cat's Cradle, but I also read:
13. Jennifer Weiner: Good in Bed. Reading this book was a weird experience. Mari sent it to me. The main character is a plus-sized woman, and this aspect of her is important to the plot, but she's still a sort of normal person. Judging by the title, the premise presented on the back, and (although it's ill-advised) the cover, I sort of assumed it would be a light read, but it... wasn't. It ended up being quite heavy (pardon the pun) in parts, which was unexpected. It was also irritatingly like a fairy tale in some parts, something the author acknowledges in her interview at the back. (I'm sure if I could only make friends with a famous and rich movie star a lot of my problems would be solved too.) I also think it had a detrimental effect on my weight loss efforts, with its message of fat acceptance. I agree that loving ourselves at any size is important, but I'm not sure I'm able to go all the way to fat being something to celebrate. It was long, and enjoyable enough to read, I guess, but certainly not a great book.

14. Augusten Burroughs: Running With Scissors. This was a book that had been on my list of things I'd been intending to read for a long time, but hadn't yet gotten around to. Now I have, and I was pretty disappointed. This book suffered from the same problem, for me, as The Glass Castle... It's a memoir about severely dysfunctional parents, and it just makes the reader uncomfortable. Burroughs is, at least, able to be judgmental about his parents and not defend them in an infuriating way, but it left me wondering why I was reading it. It wasn't hysterical, or even very funny, the way I've heard it described. David Sedaris is much funnier. And if it wasn't intended to be humorous... well, why else do I want to read it? I have my own problems. It was short enough, and kept my attention, but it wasn't really that interesting.

Awesome... I'm almost on schedule. Two more books, and I'll be on pace. Oh yeah, and here's a link to all the pictures from this weekend, if you're interested.

eta: Oh yeah, the coolest thing that happened last week was probably getting new toothpaste. Recently I've been trying to save money in small ways, like using the host family's toothpaste. Host mom likes providing for me, and because of Korean culture, she feels like it's her responsibility. And I knew they had a million tubes of toothpaste, so I just asked her for one. And she gave it to me happily. The only problem is that it tastes exactly like Comet. (In fairness, I've never tasted Comet, but as Meghan said, it has such a distinctive smell that one can fairly easily imagine what it would taste like.) I suppose I should have anticipated a problem... there was, after all, a picture of a pine cone on the tube. I guess in America this probably wouldn't happen because pine scent is so clearly tied in the public consciousness to (non-mouth) cleaning fluids. The first few days it was really rough... My mouth tasted like a (clean) toilet bowl, and I felt a little queasy for an hour after I brushed. But now I've sort of gotten used to it.