Hello, my Blogspot darlings. I know I've not been very good. But, to be honest, these days it's just kind of one foot in front of the other. There hasn't been too much to say, or too much I've felt like it was even worth it to try to say, depending on the day.
But I've just about had it tonight. And I'm not going to link to anything, or cite any sources, because I'm tired of dealing with all of that. If you know where I'm getting it from, that's great, and if you don't, you'll just have to take my word for it.
When I came to Korea, it was hard to be a Western woman here. Every morning when you woke up and turned on your computer, you were bombarded with messages about how Western women could never measure up to Korean women, how they didn't put in the effort with their physical appearances, how their bodies were lax and sloppy in comparison, about how Korean women in fact preferred Western men, because they were less demanding and abusive than Korean men, from whom they wished to escape. About how Western men also preferred Korean women, because they were also less demanding than their Western counterparts. About how Korean men, in turn, couldn't possibly be expected to prefer Western women, given all of the areas where Korean women had them so sufficiently outdone.
And the descriptions of what made a K-girl. The men who walked down the same streets where I saw Korean women of all ages, sizes and varieties dressed in all ranges of styles, and somehow managed to come to the conclusion that the one out of twenty between the ages of 18 and 28, with high heels and a mini skirt and perfectly applied makeup were the entire definition of Korean women. Or, rather, K-girls.
Western women in Korea slowly but surely began to rally together to try to deal with all of this. The blatant misogyny and, at times, racism of it all, and piece by piece started to deconstruct the behavior and break it down for what it was. The platform Tumblr, in particular, provided for bloggers made it easy for one person to link to a blog or forum post of a particularly nefarious nature, and pass it along, adding comments and creating in depth conversations out of thin air. A community was formed, and although there were disagreements, it was nice. It was nice not to feel like the sole female voice being dropped into an ocean of shouting men, for once, whether those men be on an internet forum, or forming a circle around you in a bar.
And we found men who agreed, and who shared our views of the situation, and who had no problems breaking from the old school boys' club mentality, and pointing out that they had been there all along, not saying those things, and being just as incensed by them, in fact.
For about a year after the first wave of Korean dating blogs penned by women appeared, nothing happened. There was the occasional mention on Dave's ESL, either being cited as a source for people who had never heard of Western women dating Korean men before, or being linked to as a source of curiosity and humor, an oddity or a chance, as some men put it, to imagine the entire wide world in reverse. How novel. I, and a few other bloggers, eventually perked up and took notice. Something very interesting was happening. After a while, it eventually became common knowledge, in certain circles, that this was a thing that was going on.
When the second or third wave of Korean dating blogs started to pop up, my friends and I started to nervously make jokes. And they were jokes, but they were nervous, because we saw some turns that were being taken that made us feel just that -- nervous. This thing was catching fire, and fast. It seemed like there was a new dating blog -- no exaggeration -- every week. And the tone had changed, as well. It started to shift from, "Hey here we are, doing this thing that everyone is trying to insist doesn't happen," to, "Oh yeah, I do that, too. We all do that." And that was a great thing.
In a lot of ways, either because the dating dynamics in Korea with foreigners have actually changed, or because it was revealed openly on the internet, one way or another, it does feel these days as though the myth has been debunked, and the taboo has been broken. It's not like it was when I first came, when seeing a Western woman holding hands with a Korean man on the street was the equivalent of a unicorn sighting, and when that one guy who is late to the party starts in about how Korean men don't go for Western women, or the reverse, everyone seems to kind of take a deep breath in and exchange knowing looks. Whenever I am out in public with my boyfriend now, and we happen upon another group of foreigners, nobody can be bothered to even look twice. I certainly don't feel like the walking freak show I once did in the same situation before.
And that is fucking fantastic. I honestly had no reason to expect I would ever see the day.
But the nervousness came in when we started to see the tone shift a little further. Suddenly, there were little comments here and there every few months about white guys not being attractive, or about Korean girls being too interested in a man's money. And there was even this new phrase being bounced around from here to there -- K-boy.
Surely not, we thought. Surely not, after all of the conversations we've had, after all of the posts that have been made dissecting the blog posts and forum posts and casually rude comments we've had flung at us out in public. Surely we are more aware than that.
And I think for the most part that the women who were around for long enough to remember were (and are). But there are women here now who don't remember, who weren't here to see the way that it was. Or who were, but who somehow haven't noticed the correlation.
And it's not really just the occasional comment, anymore. It's starting to grow and morph into something more than an off-hand comment that could be taken in a certain way, if you really tried. More and more every day it seems to be becoming an issue of status and competition, of comparisons that never really needed to be made in the first place. Korean women. Western men. It's starting to feel a little like I'm slipping into a Bizarro World of the one I entered when I first arrived in Korea.
It's really starting to piss me off, frankly, and not only because I feel like my feminist club membership card might be demanded for inspection every time I go to say something about it. Because it's not okay to classify all Western men as gross and sloppy, or to pigeon hole Korean men, the category, into the ones that you personally find sexually viable, or to put down Korean women in an attempt to explain why you are the better option. And saying so doesn't make me jealous or petty or destructive toward other women, or our community as a whole. Does it?
Maybe it does. But that's not the way we felt toward the men who pointed it out when the exact same thing was happening in reverse. And I'm still trying to figure out how or why it's okay, just because we're women. Why we shouldn't hold ourselves and our community to higher standards than that, especially given the first-hand experience we've had being on the receiving end of it.
I just wish everyone would be careful. To remember where we came from, and to try to be as respectful toward others as we wished they would have been, when the shoe was on the other foot. No "community" is exempt from its questionable moments or members, but I did wish at the time that other men would have done more to speak up, when our female voices mattered very little.
4.27.2012
Today, in a very big nutshell.
Cock and balls. Blogspot has gone and changed its entire format. I hate when websites do that. I know it's essential and all, but the computer part of my brain is approximately 85 years old and it takes me forever to adjust. I end up doing things like calling my friends on the phone to ask them how to forward emails in Gmail. No shit.
The real point is, I'm sitting here at my desk twenty minutes before quitting time, and I'm absolutely raring to go. It's been a long week, my friends, the highlight of which being the world's fastest speech delivered to a room full of bored people who should've finished work 45 minutes previous yesterday afternoon. I didn't want to be the dick who takes the full time slot, when everyone just really wants to go. It would have been different with Korean teachers, but foreign teachers don't take kindly to what they like to call "free overtime work". I know.
The best part was when the district supervisor stood up and said that she heard that I had great "control" over the students, and that she thought the best way to control students was to "love" them. I certainly do love them, but I would say discipline is a form of love, and not the other way around.
In other words, sometimes I don't seem very "lovely" when I'm "controlling" the students. I don't think I'd have a great amount of control if I always did.
Today was one of those roll-with-it days, which started off with me walking into my first class (a low level second grade class) to find the computer broken. Which usually doesn't tick me off much these days, but it was an awfully difficult lesson I was meant to be teaching -- miles above their level, with no real way to simplify. No way out but through.
It's also the one class where the teacher has the students sitting in straight lines with the desks all pulled apart because they lose their shit and can't control themselves if they are within two feet of each other. So. You know.
But what are you going to do? Pitch a fit and refuse to teach?
I reluctantly started writing the questions we were meant to be learning on the board -- six questions about their goals. They don't even know what "goal" means. But after a bit of explanation, they grasped the concept -- something you want in the future, like a dream, but more active. Finally I hear it called out from somewhere near the middle: 목표!
Yep. So I ask for a volunteer to share his goal. The first to speak up is Seongsu, who I have one of those up and down relationships with. If I can keep him in hand, he can be a real leader for his class. If he's just not in the right mood, though, we can lock horns pretty quickly. He shouted out that his goal was to hit Jungu.
I looked around at the room full of faces that were already starting to twitch with lack of visual stimulation, and the way that this answer had perked them up and got them all back focused on the front of the room.
Right. My goal is to hit Jungu. Now. Let's write on the board and answer some questions.
It was the best version of that lesson I've taught to that level so far. The boys usually really struggle to grasp the concepts, but suddenly when violence is involved, we're making some serious connections.
The next class started rough because I nearly had a temper tantrum when the co-teacher (who has no control over the students whatsoever) decided that I should be teaching a lesson other than the one I had planned to teach. To be clear, we've missed this class two weeks in a row now, so I just prepared one of the two missed lessons to teach. She, for whatever reason, decided to tell me as I was walking into the classroom at the bell, that she thought I should teach the other. Even after I explained that I hadn't taught either lesson, so it really didn't matter, she still stood there wasting class time explaining to me that I should teach the other. I finally got so irritated with this ridiculous display in front of the students over fucking nothing that I decided I'd rather be in my office by myself printing off and cutting up the cards for that activity and reloading the PPTs onto my USB than still looking at her face.
I was pretty pissy by the time I got back, and a bit too rough with the students about not talking as a result, but I got it back together after about five minutes. It was a good class, regardless.
And to top it all off, I was in the middle of my last class of the day, when the most unexpected faces peered in through the classroom window and smiled at me. The Jjang Crew from last year came back for a visit after their exams. After they had come and gone, the other group of students who come back to see me every now and then stopped by as well. I took them down to visit another old teacher or theirs, and it was a nice way to spend the afternoon.
And now? Now I'm going home. To do whatever I want, that doesn't involve speaking in front of (or controlling) anyone.
The real point is, I'm sitting here at my desk twenty minutes before quitting time, and I'm absolutely raring to go. It's been a long week, my friends, the highlight of which being the world's fastest speech delivered to a room full of bored people who should've finished work 45 minutes previous yesterday afternoon. I didn't want to be the dick who takes the full time slot, when everyone just really wants to go. It would have been different with Korean teachers, but foreign teachers don't take kindly to what they like to call "free overtime work". I know.
The best part was when the district supervisor stood up and said that she heard that I had great "control" over the students, and that she thought the best way to control students was to "love" them. I certainly do love them, but I would say discipline is a form of love, and not the other way around.
In other words, sometimes I don't seem very "lovely" when I'm "controlling" the students. I don't think I'd have a great amount of control if I always did.
Today was one of those roll-with-it days, which started off with me walking into my first class (a low level second grade class) to find the computer broken. Which usually doesn't tick me off much these days, but it was an awfully difficult lesson I was meant to be teaching -- miles above their level, with no real way to simplify. No way out but through.
It's also the one class where the teacher has the students sitting in straight lines with the desks all pulled apart because they lose their shit and can't control themselves if they are within two feet of each other. So. You know.
But what are you going to do? Pitch a fit and refuse to teach?
I reluctantly started writing the questions we were meant to be learning on the board -- six questions about their goals. They don't even know what "goal" means. But after a bit of explanation, they grasped the concept -- something you want in the future, like a dream, but more active. Finally I hear it called out from somewhere near the middle: 목표!
Yep. So I ask for a volunteer to share his goal. The first to speak up is Seongsu, who I have one of those up and down relationships with. If I can keep him in hand, he can be a real leader for his class. If he's just not in the right mood, though, we can lock horns pretty quickly. He shouted out that his goal was to hit Jungu.
I looked around at the room full of faces that were already starting to twitch with lack of visual stimulation, and the way that this answer had perked them up and got them all back focused on the front of the room.
Right. My goal is to hit Jungu. Now. Let's write on the board and answer some questions.
It was the best version of that lesson I've taught to that level so far. The boys usually really struggle to grasp the concepts, but suddenly when violence is involved, we're making some serious connections.
The next class started rough because I nearly had a temper tantrum when the co-teacher (who has no control over the students whatsoever) decided that I should be teaching a lesson other than the one I had planned to teach. To be clear, we've missed this class two weeks in a row now, so I just prepared one of the two missed lessons to teach. She, for whatever reason, decided to tell me as I was walking into the classroom at the bell, that she thought I should teach the other. Even after I explained that I hadn't taught either lesson, so it really didn't matter, she still stood there wasting class time explaining to me that I should teach the other. I finally got so irritated with this ridiculous display in front of the students over fucking nothing that I decided I'd rather be in my office by myself printing off and cutting up the cards for that activity and reloading the PPTs onto my USB than still looking at her face.
I was pretty pissy by the time I got back, and a bit too rough with the students about not talking as a result, but I got it back together after about five minutes. It was a good class, regardless.
And to top it all off, I was in the middle of my last class of the day, when the most unexpected faces peered in through the classroom window and smiled at me. The Jjang Crew from last year came back for a visit after their exams. After they had come and gone, the other group of students who come back to see me every now and then stopped by as well. I took them down to visit another old teacher or theirs, and it was a nice way to spend the afternoon.
And now? Now I'm going home. To do whatever I want, that doesn't involve speaking in front of (or controlling) anyone.
4.20.2012
The full swing has set in.
What a fucking badass time spring is. No joke. During this time of year, my favorite time of day is definitely my walk home from work. Everyone perks up and acts more human. The students are dead happy to buzz around in crowds and chat for as long as we can walk together, the shop people are more friendly and eager to check out how much further my Korean may have come (or deteriorated, as the case may be....) and complete randoms are all around being smiley as well.
Today's last class should have been a disaster. For some reason I will never pretend to understand, our schedule lady, who I love, but who would perhaps be better suited to literally any other position, decided that since we've missed the past two Friday's classes, we should have Friday's last class three times today, so that we could be all caught up. In that class. And fall one more lesson behind in two others.
The long and the short of it is that I got to teach the last class on a Friday, the most notorious time slot in a PS schedule (rivaled only by first period on Monday, but then only barely) to a classroom full of boys who had not only already had two other English classes today, but who had also just returned inside from P.E.
They were a fascinating blend of sleepy, rowdy, bored and smelly by the time I got to them. But they did alright. And it's evidence that the stamp system is working, because there was no reason to even begin to hope that a single one of them would so much as think about attempting to finish their assignment, but they all mostly tried.
Also, this morning New HT, bless her timid little soul, got to come in to a message from the principal saying how he and the VP have been patrolling the halls and had noticed that I've been teaching without the Korean teachers in the classroom. He informed her that there was no reason for the English teachers to be off "playing" during that time. The "playing" comment was a bit of a dick move, but I know that if I were in my first year, I'd be grateful for the intervention. However, my co-teachers are not at all crappy people, and if I needed them in the classroom or had so much as hinted that I wanted them there, they would be. As it is, I feel a little bad that they got scolded. And I'm bummed that they have to now come in and stand there essentially doing nothing.
I sometimes think it would be nice to genuinely co-teach, because I think the students could really benefit from it, but the amount of extra prep time that would require from my co's makes me feel hesitant to bring it up. But at the same time, I feel a little awkward just completely leaving them out. Something I'll have to think about in the next couple of weeks. I also already know from years past that I'm going to have to probably have a chat with a couple of them about translating a little too eagerly for the students, rather than making them speak and speaking to them in English. I've got one whose classes seem to have all but gone off the rails, who has taken a sort of if-you-can't-beat-'em-join-'em approach, and she drives me a little up the wall when she's in the room, because the students know that if they talk during my lesson, they'll get shouted at, but if they're talking to a teacher, I can't very well have the same reaction. And she seems happy enough to stand there chatting away about whatever irrelevant thing they've invented to suddenly need to talk to her about.
Also, for the second time a couple of weeks ago I was offered a position as a coordinator for the foreign teachers, and for the second time it fell through due to a miscommunication. Apparently, the district supervisor misunderstood and thought I wouldn't be returning for another year. I'd love to help however I can, which is why I said yes in the first place, but I'm not altogether crushed about the lack of extra work, whatever it would have entailed. The kind of disappointing end result, however, has been that I've been asked to lecture to the new teachers instead. Which. Public speaking is not my favorite thing. In fact, it's damn near close to the bottom of the list. But I feel somewhat obligated. And it's already turning into a bit of a shit show.
All in all, what most of the bitching and moaning means is that my school year is finally back in full swing, and I'm happy. One of the biggest downsides for me in this job are the long periods of downtime. I'm happiest when I'm busy and working shit out.
And now, it's time to hop in the shower and get ready to go meet the 남친 for a movie, or whatever we decide to do after we can't agree on a movie, as usual. Tomorrow night, I'm going to see the Coffee Prince musical, because how could I not? And I may not even wear a coat.
Today's last class should have been a disaster. For some reason I will never pretend to understand, our schedule lady, who I love, but who would perhaps be better suited to literally any other position, decided that since we've missed the past two Friday's classes, we should have Friday's last class three times today, so that we could be all caught up. In that class. And fall one more lesson behind in two others.
The long and the short of it is that I got to teach the last class on a Friday, the most notorious time slot in a PS schedule (rivaled only by first period on Monday, but then only barely) to a classroom full of boys who had not only already had two other English classes today, but who had also just returned inside from P.E.
They were a fascinating blend of sleepy, rowdy, bored and smelly by the time I got to them. But they did alright. And it's evidence that the stamp system is working, because there was no reason to even begin to hope that a single one of them would so much as think about attempting to finish their assignment, but they all mostly tried.
Also, this morning New HT, bless her timid little soul, got to come in to a message from the principal saying how he and the VP have been patrolling the halls and had noticed that I've been teaching without the Korean teachers in the classroom. He informed her that there was no reason for the English teachers to be off "playing" during that time. The "playing" comment was a bit of a dick move, but I know that if I were in my first year, I'd be grateful for the intervention. However, my co-teachers are not at all crappy people, and if I needed them in the classroom or had so much as hinted that I wanted them there, they would be. As it is, I feel a little bad that they got scolded. And I'm bummed that they have to now come in and stand there essentially doing nothing.
I sometimes think it would be nice to genuinely co-teach, because I think the students could really benefit from it, but the amount of extra prep time that would require from my co's makes me feel hesitant to bring it up. But at the same time, I feel a little awkward just completely leaving them out. Something I'll have to think about in the next couple of weeks. I also already know from years past that I'm going to have to probably have a chat with a couple of them about translating a little too eagerly for the students, rather than making them speak and speaking to them in English. I've got one whose classes seem to have all but gone off the rails, who has taken a sort of if-you-can't-beat-'em-join-'em approach, and she drives me a little up the wall when she's in the room, because the students know that if they talk during my lesson, they'll get shouted at, but if they're talking to a teacher, I can't very well have the same reaction. And she seems happy enough to stand there chatting away about whatever irrelevant thing they've invented to suddenly need to talk to her about.
Also, for the second time a couple of weeks ago I was offered a position as a coordinator for the foreign teachers, and for the second time it fell through due to a miscommunication. Apparently, the district supervisor misunderstood and thought I wouldn't be returning for another year. I'd love to help however I can, which is why I said yes in the first place, but I'm not altogether crushed about the lack of extra work, whatever it would have entailed. The kind of disappointing end result, however, has been that I've been asked to lecture to the new teachers instead. Which. Public speaking is not my favorite thing. In fact, it's damn near close to the bottom of the list. But I feel somewhat obligated. And it's already turning into a bit of a shit show.
All in all, what most of the bitching and moaning means is that my school year is finally back in full swing, and I'm happy. One of the biggest downsides for me in this job are the long periods of downtime. I'm happiest when I'm busy and working shit out.
And now, it's time to hop in the shower and get ready to go meet the 남친 for a movie, or whatever we decide to do after we can't agree on a movie, as usual. Tomorrow night, I'm going to see the Coffee Prince musical, because how could I not? And I may not even wear a coat.
4.17.2012
The hazards of teaching teenage boys.
It's funny how quickly your day can change, when you work as a teacher.
There's this one class. You all know the one I mean. It's been a struggle for a few weeks now, but I came down really hard on them two weeks ago, and last week they managed to get it together and do a good job. Today, their computer was broken, which means the entire lesson plan is shot to hell, and I'm left with nothing but my mouth, my chalk pen and the board. Their homeroom teacher, who is also an English teacher, was nice enough to hang around and ask me if it was okay. I thought about it for a minute and decided that, even though their level is really low, and even though we've been having some problems, it should be alright. I told her she could go.
And for the most part, it was. One kid would not stop turning around, so I moved him. And he still wouldn't stop turning around, so I moved him again. I told the kid behind him that time that if he even looked at this kid, there were going to be serious consequences. There were a few times where I had to call the class to complete silence, but I did so without losing my temper, and we got through it. It weren't easy, but we got through it.
They were working away on their assignment, and I was having to do a bit of policing to make sure they were on task (a bit more than I generally like to do), but we were doing okay. Until I noticed one of the trouble makers in the class nudging his friend, and then motioning behind my back when I turned around.
Now, since this is one of the lowest classes (if not the lowest) I teach, they are aware of how much I understand in Korean. Because, although I don't speak it in class, they will often times call out answers or ask questions in Korean, and if they can't get it together to rephrase in English, I will go ahead and answer them, or say it for them in English. So they know.
Rewind to this morning. As I'm headed out of my apartment building, I realize I forgot to put on my standard undershirt, the industrial strength kind that makes sure that even if I'm touching my toes, you can see nothing. Since it's been colder out, I've been wearing a thick, heavy sweater over my clothes at school and haven't had to worry about such things. But it's not cold today. It's alright, I thought. I'll just have to be careful how I move today.
Apparently I was careful enough, until seven class rolled around.
I had clocked on to the fact that the kid was up to something, and that it had to do with my physical appearance, but I wasn't sure what it was. There was nothing being said out loud that was cluing me in, so I just watched the students carefully for a while without letting on that I knew something was up. Which was probably a mistake, in retrospect.
It didn't take me too long to figure out what was up when students who never ask me questions started calling me over for help. By that time, class was nearly over, so I called both the student who couldn't get the direction he was supposed to be facing right and the little fucking pervert up to the front and told the others there wouldn't be time for stamps today.
I took the two to the teachers' office and explained to their homeroom teacher what had gone down. As I explained the second student's offense in English he couldn't understand, my body language tipped him off and his face went white as a sheet.
I was doing alright, blowing it all off as one of those stupid things that sometimes happens until the homeroom teacher showed up in my office ten minutes later. She said, "I'm sorry. I should have stayed in class." That statement is something that I just don't like to hear. I don't like to think that there are things that the Korean teachers can control that I can't, or that won't go on if they're there. It upset me. A lot.
To top it all off, I sent Busan a message about it in English on my way home. Maybe you can see what happened sooner than I did. I said, "A student looked down my shirt today. I feel quite blue about that. I haven't had that kind of disrespectful thing happen in a very long time. I would prefer they swear in my face."
His answer: "What did you wear?"
I lost my shit a bit, with that response. What the fuck kind of question is that? It doesn't matter what I wore -- I am their teacher. I kept my response brief: "Fuck off."
"Um, you got hurt. It's okay. You must look good in my eyes."
Are you fucking kidding me? At that point, I was ready to have a royal fucking fight. I told him to leave me alone for the rest of the day. He went silent. I decided he couldn't possibly have said that, that there must have been a misunderstanding.
I looked back at the messages and suddenly my memory was jogged to this past weekend, when Busan had asked me about something -- I can't remember what -- but if I looked down him. Meaning, if I was looking down on him.
I quickly sent him a message apologizing, and explaining the mistake -- I didn't mean that a student had been making fun of my shirt. I meant that he had tried to see down the front of it. And of course, he answered back with a much more appropriate response: "Did you kill him?"
So. My students got under my skin today. But at least my boyfriend didn't suddenly come out as some kind of weird, blamey misogynist.
That's something, right?
Tomorrow's a new day. I just wish it was easier to blow this shit off.
There's this one class. You all know the one I mean. It's been a struggle for a few weeks now, but I came down really hard on them two weeks ago, and last week they managed to get it together and do a good job. Today, their computer was broken, which means the entire lesson plan is shot to hell, and I'm left with nothing but my mouth, my chalk pen and the board. Their homeroom teacher, who is also an English teacher, was nice enough to hang around and ask me if it was okay. I thought about it for a minute and decided that, even though their level is really low, and even though we've been having some problems, it should be alright. I told her she could go.
And for the most part, it was. One kid would not stop turning around, so I moved him. And he still wouldn't stop turning around, so I moved him again. I told the kid behind him that time that if he even looked at this kid, there were going to be serious consequences. There were a few times where I had to call the class to complete silence, but I did so without losing my temper, and we got through it. It weren't easy, but we got through it.
They were working away on their assignment, and I was having to do a bit of policing to make sure they were on task (a bit more than I generally like to do), but we were doing okay. Until I noticed one of the trouble makers in the class nudging his friend, and then motioning behind my back when I turned around.
Now, since this is one of the lowest classes (if not the lowest) I teach, they are aware of how much I understand in Korean. Because, although I don't speak it in class, they will often times call out answers or ask questions in Korean, and if they can't get it together to rephrase in English, I will go ahead and answer them, or say it for them in English. So they know.
Rewind to this morning. As I'm headed out of my apartment building, I realize I forgot to put on my standard undershirt, the industrial strength kind that makes sure that even if I'm touching my toes, you can see nothing. Since it's been colder out, I've been wearing a thick, heavy sweater over my clothes at school and haven't had to worry about such things. But it's not cold today. It's alright, I thought. I'll just have to be careful how I move today.
Apparently I was careful enough, until seven class rolled around.
I had clocked on to the fact that the kid was up to something, and that it had to do with my physical appearance, but I wasn't sure what it was. There was nothing being said out loud that was cluing me in, so I just watched the students carefully for a while without letting on that I knew something was up. Which was probably a mistake, in retrospect.
It didn't take me too long to figure out what was up when students who never ask me questions started calling me over for help. By that time, class was nearly over, so I called both the student who couldn't get the direction he was supposed to be facing right and the little fucking pervert up to the front and told the others there wouldn't be time for stamps today.
I took the two to the teachers' office and explained to their homeroom teacher what had gone down. As I explained the second student's offense in English he couldn't understand, my body language tipped him off and his face went white as a sheet.
I was doing alright, blowing it all off as one of those stupid things that sometimes happens until the homeroom teacher showed up in my office ten minutes later. She said, "I'm sorry. I should have stayed in class." That statement is something that I just don't like to hear. I don't like to think that there are things that the Korean teachers can control that I can't, or that won't go on if they're there. It upset me. A lot.
To top it all off, I sent Busan a message about it in English on my way home. Maybe you can see what happened sooner than I did. I said, "A student looked down my shirt today. I feel quite blue about that. I haven't had that kind of disrespectful thing happen in a very long time. I would prefer they swear in my face."
His answer: "What did you wear?"
I lost my shit a bit, with that response. What the fuck kind of question is that? It doesn't matter what I wore -- I am their teacher. I kept my response brief: "Fuck off."
"Um, you got hurt. It's okay. You must look good in my eyes."
Are you fucking kidding me? At that point, I was ready to have a royal fucking fight. I told him to leave me alone for the rest of the day. He went silent. I decided he couldn't possibly have said that, that there must have been a misunderstanding.
I looked back at the messages and suddenly my memory was jogged to this past weekend, when Busan had asked me about something -- I can't remember what -- but if I looked down him. Meaning, if I was looking down on him.
I quickly sent him a message apologizing, and explaining the mistake -- I didn't mean that a student had been making fun of my shirt. I meant that he had tried to see down the front of it. And of course, he answered back with a much more appropriate response: "Did you kill him?"
So. My students got under my skin today. But at least my boyfriend didn't suddenly come out as some kind of weird, blamey misogynist.
That's something, right?
Tomorrow's a new day. I just wish it was easier to blow this shit off.
4.16.2012
A bit about the study room.
The study room was good tonight. It's been a rough few weeks, as the head teacher changed and the kids have copped a predictable fucking attitude. Basically, she's a newb, and they got confused for a minute and thought I was as well. Not so. They were pulling shit like not arriving on time, not getting sat down to their dinner, even after they'd arrived, and I was generally having to do all kinds of shit I didn't sign up for, like chase them down all over the neighborhood and force them to hurry up and eat so we could start class. They are supposed to be there and finished eating for us to start class at 6 when I arrive. As you can imagine, for a minute there, we were starting class closer to 7. Which is just not fucking funny, when I've already taught seven classes and commuted for nearly an hour to be there.
I really had a moment, a couple of weeks ago, of thinking, "You know what? I'm out." It was the Monday after I had spent the entire weekend dying in bed from the flu, and had worked the whole day and trouped out to the study room afterward. I was in the middle of trying to get them to hurry up and finish eating, and explaining that I was really sick, so it would be nice if they would just do what they needed to do so I could go home to bed, when one of the oldest students, Jeongyoon, waved his hand and said, "그럼 가세요."
He's not a bad kid, but I really could have slapped the smug right off his face at that moment. And I think he knew it.
I didn't even get angry or try to discipline him. There was no point. I was shocked, he had shocked himself, and we both knew he'd crossed a line. I said, fine. And went in sat in the other room. Jeongyoon took it upon himself to gather the other kids up and get them all in and sat down for their lesson within minutes. I just looked at them and said, you know what? I like coming here and I like teaching you and I like making lessons for you, but I spend time to make these lessons, and I spend time to come here and teach you, and even when I'm really sick, I still come. Because you are important to me. If I'm not important to you, that's fine. But I wish you would at least show me the respect not to treat my lessons and my effort like nothing.
Since then, things have been running a lot more smoothly. And last week, before I left, Jeongyoon shocked me by asking if he could have the time for the next lesson to teach us all a game. These kids, their English is just basically nonexistent. So for him to volunteer to do something like that was pretty major. I said, will you do it in English? He said, I'll try. And I said, okay then.
When I came in today, the main head teacher who only stops in once every couple of months or so was there. We chatted for a bit and caught up while the students were finishing their dinner, and she quizzed me on one of the articles I've been reading as part of my Korean homework. In Korean. Which was something Old Head Teacher tried to do with me about a year ago, and I completely failed at. This time, I held my own, and even answered in Korean, rather than trying to worm my way out and reply in English.
Then Jeongyoon came in and somehow seemed to expect that I wouldn't have remembered the things he asked me to prepare for his game. When I pulled them out, he genuinely grinned from ear to ear. The students sat down, and I told them Jeongyoon was our teacher for the day.
The students worked together to explain the game to me in English, with Jeongyoon getting a nice taste of what it's like to be a teacher in the process, I have to say, and I think it was probably the most productive time I've ever spent with them. I think they felt really proud of themselves afterward, as well. I know Jeongyoon did.
Towards the end of the lesson, the new head teacher wandered in to get something, and Jeongyoon said, "나가세요!" I shot him a look and told him that just because he says something in 존댓말 doesn't make it polite, and he knows it. He looked down and apologized, but not without a bit of a smile.
Overall, I've got renewed motivation to try to come up with more active lessons for them, even though they barely understand a word I say. I can make good usage of a few Korean words here and there, but don't like to rely too heavily on that -- it's not instruction that's the problem. I know how to give directions to kids who don't understand English in English. It's just that their level severely limits the activities they can do. But I'm going to work harder to make it more interesting for them. Which is probably a lot better than just throwing up my hands and quitting, which was the place I was at a few weeks ago. I hope they continue to work harder, as well.
By the way, I know I'm woefully behind on answering emails and asks, and I've got a number about how I got my gig at the study room. The answer is unfortunately not very helpful, in that a coworker of mine used to live in the area, and knew I was looking for volunteer work, and happened to see a sign posted that they were looking for teachers. They never expected a foreign teacher to reply, but were very happy to have me. So, I guess my only answer would be that it wouldn't hurt to put in a word with your co-teachers and see what they can come up with. Most areas have at least one of these kinds of places, and there are also community centers which could, I'm sure, use an English teacher/speaker for various things. Just know that English speakers are probably not very common in these places -- no one at the study room speaks more than the odd word here or there, so being able to communicate at least base things in Korean is really useful. On the upside, it's been a great way to improve my Korean.
I really had a moment, a couple of weeks ago, of thinking, "You know what? I'm out." It was the Monday after I had spent the entire weekend dying in bed from the flu, and had worked the whole day and trouped out to the study room afterward. I was in the middle of trying to get them to hurry up and finish eating, and explaining that I was really sick, so it would be nice if they would just do what they needed to do so I could go home to bed, when one of the oldest students, Jeongyoon, waved his hand and said, "그럼 가세요."
He's not a bad kid, but I really could have slapped the smug right off his face at that moment. And I think he knew it.
I didn't even get angry or try to discipline him. There was no point. I was shocked, he had shocked himself, and we both knew he'd crossed a line. I said, fine. And went in sat in the other room. Jeongyoon took it upon himself to gather the other kids up and get them all in and sat down for their lesson within minutes. I just looked at them and said, you know what? I like coming here and I like teaching you and I like making lessons for you, but I spend time to make these lessons, and I spend time to come here and teach you, and even when I'm really sick, I still come. Because you are important to me. If I'm not important to you, that's fine. But I wish you would at least show me the respect not to treat my lessons and my effort like nothing.
Since then, things have been running a lot more smoothly. And last week, before I left, Jeongyoon shocked me by asking if he could have the time for the next lesson to teach us all a game. These kids, their English is just basically nonexistent. So for him to volunteer to do something like that was pretty major. I said, will you do it in English? He said, I'll try. And I said, okay then.
When I came in today, the main head teacher who only stops in once every couple of months or so was there. We chatted for a bit and caught up while the students were finishing their dinner, and she quizzed me on one of the articles I've been reading as part of my Korean homework. In Korean. Which was something Old Head Teacher tried to do with me about a year ago, and I completely failed at. This time, I held my own, and even answered in Korean, rather than trying to worm my way out and reply in English.
Then Jeongyoon came in and somehow seemed to expect that I wouldn't have remembered the things he asked me to prepare for his game. When I pulled them out, he genuinely grinned from ear to ear. The students sat down, and I told them Jeongyoon was our teacher for the day.
The students worked together to explain the game to me in English, with Jeongyoon getting a nice taste of what it's like to be a teacher in the process, I have to say, and I think it was probably the most productive time I've ever spent with them. I think they felt really proud of themselves afterward, as well. I know Jeongyoon did.
Towards the end of the lesson, the new head teacher wandered in to get something, and Jeongyoon said, "나가세요!" I shot him a look and told him that just because he says something in 존댓말 doesn't make it polite, and he knows it. He looked down and apologized, but not without a bit of a smile.
Overall, I've got renewed motivation to try to come up with more active lessons for them, even though they barely understand a word I say. I can make good usage of a few Korean words here and there, but don't like to rely too heavily on that -- it's not instruction that's the problem. I know how to give directions to kids who don't understand English in English. It's just that their level severely limits the activities they can do. But I'm going to work harder to make it more interesting for them. Which is probably a lot better than just throwing up my hands and quitting, which was the place I was at a few weeks ago. I hope they continue to work harder, as well.
By the way, I know I'm woefully behind on answering emails and asks, and I've got a number about how I got my gig at the study room. The answer is unfortunately not very helpful, in that a coworker of mine used to live in the area, and knew I was looking for volunteer work, and happened to see a sign posted that they were looking for teachers. They never expected a foreign teacher to reply, but were very happy to have me. So, I guess my only answer would be that it wouldn't hurt to put in a word with your co-teachers and see what they can come up with. Most areas have at least one of these kinds of places, and there are also community centers which could, I'm sure, use an English teacher/speaker for various things. Just know that English speakers are probably not very common in these places -- no one at the study room speaks more than the odd word here or there, so being able to communicate at least base things in Korean is really useful. On the upside, it's been a great way to improve my Korean.
4.13.2012
KUMFA Heater fundraiser.
I don't have loads of time to explain right now -- I'm out the door in a moment -- but before I went out and got my evening started tonight I wanted to drop a quick note to let everyone know that KUMFA (Korean Unwed Mothers' Families Association) is holding a fundraiser to help get their Heater facility rehoused. It's April 27th afternoon to evening in Hongdae, but if you're like me and already have something lined up, you can still donate money, which is easy as anything in Korea thanks to bank transfers, and will probably be the best money you spend all weekend. Give it some thought. And have a great weekend.
4.05.2012
Random catch-all post, and a bit about the trials of textbooks.
A general kind of update, I guess.
I have spent the evening making a yogurt topping for baked potatoes with the parsley and chives I've been growing, as well as basil pesto (since my basil plants have been getting out of control since the weather turned a bit) for dinner tomorrow night to repay Busan for reformatting my hard drive.... which I don't really need to do, since he's the one who really wants to do it. Using my computer drives him up a wall, and he muttered something about not being able to watch basketball while he's at my house. At any rate, I like to cook, and I'm excited that the plants are getting to the point where I can actually make use of them.
I've got a new little kitten entering the teenager phase, running around and making havoc of absolutely everything. The mood swings are incredible, but most of the time she just follows me around and needs to always be touching me, like a dog. Which is difficult to handle at times. She also ate my phone charger, and constantly knocks over plants and drags dust bunnies out from places I don't even know about. Her absolute favorite activity is making an obstacle course out of my hanging clothes, starting from one end and winding her way down through all of the hangers, knocking 65% of the clothes down every single time she does it. She also fell in the toilet last week. Her name is Vera.
I also had my first meeting with the "English club" today. God bless this whole situation. They're older, and they've got their mind set about the way things should be, and my attitude has been pretty dumps, since I basically got strong-armed into this in the first place. They decided they would choose the time and the book, and have been doing things my pride finds testing all week, like reminding me to review the book before I teach them, and constantly reminding me about the class. Once I got a copy of the book, I basically gave up for a minute. It's one of those terrible "practical English! super fun!" pieces of shit that does absolutely nothing for people on their low level. Before you know how to say, "I was born in Korea," you do not need to be learning about how to talk about pulling pranks.
Beyond that, the book taught absolutely zero grammar, had everything in Korean translation, and featured more than a few incorrectly used or worded expressions. Which I knew was going to be a problem, because it was going to be difficult to convince the teachers of that, given that the book is allegedly co-written by a native speaker. But let me explain something to you:
Even a native speaker comes out with bizarre English, when what they're faced with is translating Korean text into English, while also being shoehorned into using a certain number of expressions per very short dialogue or paragraph. It comes out weird. It comes out weird even when someone asks me how to say something in English by giving me the Korean, because translation is hard and awkward, and a lot of things just cannot translate equally.
Which is why it's better to work with a book that has no translation. So that you can get a natural feel for the language, without trying to equate it exactly with something in your native tongue. Because there rarely is an exact equation, and shit will always come out weird when you do that. Because of my situation here in Korea, which has meant a lot of natural exposure to Korean and learning from context, there are a lot of things, for example, that I understand exactly in Korean. But I couldn't put them into English for you very well. That, in my opinion, is the best way to learn. Once you're to the point where you are able.
Also, I'm pretty old school, and just completely bypassing grammar when you're at such a low level is a big problem for me. If you want to be able to speak, getting grammar patterns down is essential, because each grammar pattern you learn becomes a tool. One grammar pattern unlocks an entire level of speech. One expression...... suits one particular situation, which you may never have the chance to even address in English, if you don't know any grammar.
So I was feeling pretty antsy about the whole thing. I was foreseeing a situation where they wouldn't want to change the book, because they've been told this book is "practical English" (which to me is just a huge red flag, when it comes to language learning in general -- it generally means "short cuts which won't really get you anywhere, but are awfully tempting"), and then when I have to teach the book and can't bring myself to not point out that a lot of the English is being used incorrectly, a. it's going to be really difficult to explain why to people who don't understand much English to begin with and b. they're not going to want to accept that. Because, after all, a native speaker co-wrote the fucking book. So it must be right.
There are a lot of things I can just ignore and swallow and deal with gracefully. Being argued with about by my native language by people who don't really speak it is not one of them, especially when it's my job to know these things.
But luckily, it didn't come to that. I was able to convince them pretty quickly that the book was too difficult for them, and that the alternative I brought in would be much more effective in the end. I demonstrated how I would be able to teach each one, and they realized that, since the expression book has everything in translation, and very few writing or speaking exercises, there's really no point in me "teaching" it to them. But my book is chock full of both writing and speaking, with an emphasis on conversation and a focus on just one or two grammar patterns per chapter. Once I did a quick run through, they decided it might be better to go with mine.
And I didn't even have to get into the right/wrong English debate. Which was a relief.
In short, as with everything I initially buck against with my job, I will probably end up enjoying this class. Teaching adults is a different world entirely from teaching kids, and I do really miss it from time to time.
One more small, but curious thing: Today, as I was sitting at the coffee shop working on a chapter in my Korean book, a kid leaned over and said, "Are you studying Korean?" I thought it was pretty obvious that I was, but I guess it was as good an opening as any. He's 24 Korean age, and just returned from a year in the Philippines. He's about to graduate and go into the "international management" field, whatever that means. Naturally, he was pretty excited to find a foreigner in his local coffee shop. He suggested that we could help each other study, and I politely informed him that, actually, I already have a partner. He said, well then, I know this is a little impolite, but maybe we could be friends. I told him I would run that past my boyfriend. Not because I actually need to run anything past my boyfriend, but just to make him aware of the situation. Just in case.
The thing is, it confused me a little to hear him call it "impolite". Now, when I did run it past Busan later this evening, just to keep everything out on the table, Busan immediately bugged out. Partially, I'm sure, because some guy is chatting his girlfriend up in a coffee shop, but oddly, his response was that this guy saying he wanted to be my friend "at first glance" means that he's a rude person. Or, to be more precise, "He must be a jerk." Which is a word he's recently acquired from yours truly. You can imagine how.
I don't know. That one is new to me, but I thought it was strange that they both said saying you want to be friends the first time you meet someone is impolite. I asked Busan to explain, not because I was trying to push his buttons, but because there must be something behind this that I'm not aware of yet. He stopped answering my messages at that point, though. Haha. Guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow for clarification. If anyone has any insight, please feel free to share.
I have spent the evening making a yogurt topping for baked potatoes with the parsley and chives I've been growing, as well as basil pesto (since my basil plants have been getting out of control since the weather turned a bit) for dinner tomorrow night to repay Busan for reformatting my hard drive.... which I don't really need to do, since he's the one who really wants to do it. Using my computer drives him up a wall, and he muttered something about not being able to watch basketball while he's at my house. At any rate, I like to cook, and I'm excited that the plants are getting to the point where I can actually make use of them.
I've got a new little kitten entering the teenager phase, running around and making havoc of absolutely everything. The mood swings are incredible, but most of the time she just follows me around and needs to always be touching me, like a dog. Which is difficult to handle at times. She also ate my phone charger, and constantly knocks over plants and drags dust bunnies out from places I don't even know about. Her absolute favorite activity is making an obstacle course out of my hanging clothes, starting from one end and winding her way down through all of the hangers, knocking 65% of the clothes down every single time she does it. She also fell in the toilet last week. Her name is Vera.
I also had my first meeting with the "English club" today. God bless this whole situation. They're older, and they've got their mind set about the way things should be, and my attitude has been pretty dumps, since I basically got strong-armed into this in the first place. They decided they would choose the time and the book, and have been doing things my pride finds testing all week, like reminding me to review the book before I teach them, and constantly reminding me about the class. Once I got a copy of the book, I basically gave up for a minute. It's one of those terrible "practical English! super fun!" pieces of shit that does absolutely nothing for people on their low level. Before you know how to say, "I was born in Korea," you do not need to be learning about how to talk about pulling pranks.
Beyond that, the book taught absolutely zero grammar, had everything in Korean translation, and featured more than a few incorrectly used or worded expressions. Which I knew was going to be a problem, because it was going to be difficult to convince the teachers of that, given that the book is allegedly co-written by a native speaker. But let me explain something to you:
Even a native speaker comes out with bizarre English, when what they're faced with is translating Korean text into English, while also being shoehorned into using a certain number of expressions per very short dialogue or paragraph. It comes out weird. It comes out weird even when someone asks me how to say something in English by giving me the Korean, because translation is hard and awkward, and a lot of things just cannot translate equally.
Which is why it's better to work with a book that has no translation. So that you can get a natural feel for the language, without trying to equate it exactly with something in your native tongue. Because there rarely is an exact equation, and shit will always come out weird when you do that. Because of my situation here in Korea, which has meant a lot of natural exposure to Korean and learning from context, there are a lot of things, for example, that I understand exactly in Korean. But I couldn't put them into English for you very well. That, in my opinion, is the best way to learn. Once you're to the point where you are able.
Also, I'm pretty old school, and just completely bypassing grammar when you're at such a low level is a big problem for me. If you want to be able to speak, getting grammar patterns down is essential, because each grammar pattern you learn becomes a tool. One grammar pattern unlocks an entire level of speech. One expression...... suits one particular situation, which you may never have the chance to even address in English, if you don't know any grammar.
So I was feeling pretty antsy about the whole thing. I was foreseeing a situation where they wouldn't want to change the book, because they've been told this book is "practical English" (which to me is just a huge red flag, when it comes to language learning in general -- it generally means "short cuts which won't really get you anywhere, but are awfully tempting"), and then when I have to teach the book and can't bring myself to not point out that a lot of the English is being used incorrectly, a. it's going to be really difficult to explain why to people who don't understand much English to begin with and b. they're not going to want to accept that. Because, after all, a native speaker co-wrote the fucking book. So it must be right.
There are a lot of things I can just ignore and swallow and deal with gracefully. Being argued with about by my native language by people who don't really speak it is not one of them, especially when it's my job to know these things.
But luckily, it didn't come to that. I was able to convince them pretty quickly that the book was too difficult for them, and that the alternative I brought in would be much more effective in the end. I demonstrated how I would be able to teach each one, and they realized that, since the expression book has everything in translation, and very few writing or speaking exercises, there's really no point in me "teaching" it to them. But my book is chock full of both writing and speaking, with an emphasis on conversation and a focus on just one or two grammar patterns per chapter. Once I did a quick run through, they decided it might be better to go with mine.
And I didn't even have to get into the right/wrong English debate. Which was a relief.
In short, as with everything I initially buck against with my job, I will probably end up enjoying this class. Teaching adults is a different world entirely from teaching kids, and I do really miss it from time to time.
One more small, but curious thing: Today, as I was sitting at the coffee shop working on a chapter in my Korean book, a kid leaned over and said, "Are you studying Korean?" I thought it was pretty obvious that I was, but I guess it was as good an opening as any. He's 24 Korean age, and just returned from a year in the Philippines. He's about to graduate and go into the "international management" field, whatever that means. Naturally, he was pretty excited to find a foreigner in his local coffee shop. He suggested that we could help each other study, and I politely informed him that, actually, I already have a partner. He said, well then, I know this is a little impolite, but maybe we could be friends. I told him I would run that past my boyfriend. Not because I actually need to run anything past my boyfriend, but just to make him aware of the situation. Just in case.
The thing is, it confused me a little to hear him call it "impolite". Now, when I did run it past Busan later this evening, just to keep everything out on the table, Busan immediately bugged out. Partially, I'm sure, because some guy is chatting his girlfriend up in a coffee shop, but oddly, his response was that this guy saying he wanted to be my friend "at first glance" means that he's a rude person. Or, to be more precise, "He must be a jerk." Which is a word he's recently acquired from yours truly. You can imagine how.
I don't know. That one is new to me, but I thought it was strange that they both said saying you want to be friends the first time you meet someone is impolite. I asked Busan to explain, not because I was trying to push his buttons, but because there must be something behind this that I'm not aware of yet. He stopped answering my messages at that point, though. Haha. Guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow for clarification. If anyone has any insight, please feel free to share.
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