Far and Away

1. Walked to class in the middle of passing time even though the bell obviously hadn’t rung yet.

2. Told my coteacher to go ahead to lunch first since I had to send a few emails…except we still had one more period before lunchtime.

3. Dropped a chalkboard eraser covered in white and yellow chalk directly onto the front of my black dress.

4. Took about three tries to spell “independence” for one of my students.

Why am I so out of it today??

Yesterday, I got out of my long afternoon club class and had five missed calls from the same number waiting for me. Thinking it was probably relatively important, I called the number back.

It was my principal - the one from last year. The one who I can easily say is the quirkiest person I have ever met. And he wanted to meet for dinner.

If you haven’t been following me long, let me summarize. This man was completely enamored with me from the moment I started at my school a year and a half ago. I don’t mean this in a creepy or threatening way, just in the sense that he introduced me at length every time we met someone new (or even when the person had gotten the whole spiel before) as our wonderful native teacher who is from Minnesota and who used to do synchronized swimming and uses videos in class very effectively. He knows this because he used to attend my classes a few times a week, diligently repeating words aloud along with my students.

In any case, after he was transferred to a nearby high school this spring, things have been a lot quieter. Honestly, I can say I kind of miss him - even though it’s super awkward at the time my coteacher and I could always bond about the great stories afterward (plus I have a feeling my blog was a lot more interesting when he was featured on a regular basis. So even though I knew it would be awkward, I accepted the dinner invitation. The fact that he never takes no for an answer might have played a part in that decision as well.

So after school today he dropped by to pick me up. But we didn’t go straight to dinner - no, he wanted to show me his new school, since I teach in a middle school and might not know what a high school looks like (spoiler alert - it’s basically a middle school but the kids running around are a bit taller.)

But this basically turned into me awkwardly standing there while he introduced me to every teacher we ran into and kept praising me like he always used to. Now, I do try to do my best and I feel like I’m a good teacher. But I’m not an amazing amazing amazing teacher, nor do I want to hear someone tell random strangers that I am. Also…that school has a native teacher too. I don’t know who it is, luckily we didn’t run into her, but I know I wouldn’t appreciate some random other teacher showing up and seeming to show off in my school. I felt really bad, and tried to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I survived, and we went off to a really delicious galbi restaurant for dinner. His English is not amazing, but he’s very enthusiastic, so dinner wasn’t too awkward.

Then, as he’s driving me home, he makes a sudden turn into the EMart parking lot. “I will buy you some fruit!” he said. Not a question, a statement, thrown over his shoulder as he was already halfway out of the car. I really should have seen this last part coming, of course. When I moved into my apartment, he made an impromptu pit stop at the store to buy me toilet paper and orange juice as a “housewarming gift.”

Of course I protested, as always, and as always it was futile. At some point, you realize that it’s more awkward to keep saying “no” than to just let your former boss buy you orange juice.

And by orange juice, I mean a ton of random other stuff. In the end, my haul was: a box of cherry tomatoes, a bag of apples, a bag of oranges, three bell peppers and a box of Froot Loops (or, as they call them in Korea, Froot Rings).

I’m really going to miss Korea, if only because this crazy stuff makes life so much more fun.

This week we’re practicing future tense, which means my kids are making predictions about the future.

As I was helping a low-level boy (kind of a punk, never really pays attention in class) I asked him what he wants to do in the future.

The lightbulb went on.

“패션왕!” (Fashion King)

I laughed, and said slowly, so he could write it out, “I will be the king of fashion.”

But, thanks to the fact that Korean has no “f” and pronounces “f” sounds like “p,” he wrote:

“I will be the king of passion.”

And slammed his pen down on his desk triumphantly.

Luckily I could control my laughter enough to correct the slight error.

So apparently tomorrow is “Worker’s Day” in Korea. I’m assuming this is a Labor Day-esque excuse to have the day off in celebration of workers. I didn’t know about this day because public school teachers are apparently not considered “workers” and therefore don’t get the day off like most other Koreans.

However! My coteacher just got an email from the local Board of Education “strongly suggesting” that native English teachers be given the day off even though kids will still be in school and all Korean teachers will be expected to work.

On one hand, I suddenly have an extra day off tomorrow which is never a reason to complain. But my coteacher had to say this in front of all the teachers in the office, who still have to come in to work tomorrow. Once again the chorus of “좋겠어요…” makes me feel awkward and guilty for the special privileges that I get at work.

And I mean that literally. Starting yesterday, my cold started working its way into my throat and by the end of my club class yesterday afternoon my voice was starting to get scratchy. Woke up this morning completely unable to speak above a whisper.

I have to teach six classes today.

I was able to switch around and use a lesson that doesn’t involve too much talking on my part, and my coteachers have tried to step in and keep the kids quiet so they can hear my rough man-voice.

For my club class after school I’m just going to show them a movie, since I have no coteacher and they’re hard enough to control when I’m feeling 100 percent.

Even though I don’t feel too sick (not really tired or sore), dealing with this makes me even more exhausted than usual for a Tuesday. I just want to crawl into my bed and never (attempt to) speak again ㅠㅠ

In one class on Friday I took away 18 paper airplanes.

18.

Needless to say that class was a little out of hand. I definitely don’t think I handled the situation properly at the time either.

My teaching style is really laid back - I don’t punish my students really, it’s actually quite unnatural for me to be strict. I am usually able to deal with any small discipline problems that arise by joking around and giving my kids a hard time. But when things get really crazy, I find myself totally unable to respond harshly enough.

In this particular class, I didn’t want to let them know they were getting to me or that their middle school pranks were actually making me mad. I figured that would just encourage them. Which meant that I ended up trying to keep the mood light and just take away the airplanes, then make as dignified an exit as possible.

Of course, if I could do it again, I would have come down a lot harder on them, because that kind of behavior is not ok and they need to know that.

In any case, I asked the teacher in charge of first grade to inform their homeroom teacher so they could be punished properly afterward. Which is when things got really awkward.

Technically, I’m supposed to have a coteacher in each and every one of my classes. I rarely use them in my lessons, they’re mostly just there as a deterrent and just in case I need translation for some reason (usually I do my own translations when necessary so I really don’t resort to asking them for much).

In my first grade beginner classes, I really do need the translation and discipline help, and my teacher this semester does a great job of working with me. My third grade coteacher is less necessary but he always shows up and acts as a great deterrent for potentially wild classes.

For the first grade intermediate and advanced classes, though, I really don’t feel like I need the coteacher. They end up just sitting there, since the kids are advanced enough to understand me just fine and well behaved enough to require only minor discipline.

So, after the first few lessons, those two teachers just kind of stopped coming. And I honestly didn’t mind.

But, as it turns out, the rule about them having to be in my classes was stricter than I thought. So when I told my coteacher about my difficult class with the paper airplanes, her first question was…but where was ____ teacher? Didn’t she help you?

I confessed that she had stopped attending, making sure to point out that I didn’t need her help and that I didn’t mind. But my coteacher was still furious and immediately called the other teacher and berated her for neglecting her responsibility to sit in on my classes. While I was sitting right there.

Awkward.

Anyway, I got an apology from the absent teacher and a promise that she’ll be in my classes from now on. Even if she’s going to just be sitting in the back zoning out because I really don’t need her help.

“Jenna…do you have a third period class? There is a speaking test today so you don’t need to go there during third period.”

I’m ashamed to admit that I rejoiced at these words from my coteacher this morning.

Because third period I was supposed to teach my rough class. The one that every third grade teacher braces themselves for. And I had a get out of jail free card, at least for one week.

Overall, I have very few discipline problems at my school. I’m lucky, really - I’ve heard some pretty crazy stories from friends. And I know middle schoolers are capable of a lot worse than they give me.

But this particular homeroom is an anomaly. For whatever reason, there are multiple groups of problem students concentrated into one classroom, feeding off of each others’ apathy and disrespect.

A few of the kids I can deal with, since I’ve taught them in club classes before. There are girls who have a major talking problem, but they’ll usually stop chatting if I give them a strong look, go and stand next to their seats or move them to a different desk.

There are four boys, though, who are a bit more difficult. Actually, scratch that, two of the boys are actually quite good, with relatively high English when they’re in leveled classes. But the other two boys suck them into this little knot of insubordination that I’ve found incredibly difficult to untangle.

A few weeks ago, I went up to confront these boys while everyone was doing a worksheet. “What is going on,” I asked, “why are you talking so much?”

In a mix of Korean and English, their answer was clear:

“We aren’t going to live outside of Korea in the future. We don’t like foreigners. We don’t need English, so we’ve given up. Don’t bother trying to teach us.”

I can (and have) moved their seats. I can punish them in multiple ways all day. I can interrupt my teaching, making it difficult for all the other students in their class. I can make them be quiet (kind of). But can I make them listen? With that kind of attitude?

I feel like in order to counter this apparently deeply ingrained view of English as a waste of their time, I feel like I’d have to spend a lot more time with these boys. See them more than just once a week in a huge class that’s in no way catered to their low level of English. And I’d really have to be able to communicate with them in Korean to have any kind of actual conversation with them.

I’m so frustrated because I don’t want to just let it go and not address this problem, but at the same time I have so little facetime with all my students that I don’t want to waste any of it pushing against a wall that I’m not equipped to climb.

During a class this morning there was a loud boom outside (probably from one of the many construction projects near our school).

Some of the girls jumped, asking what the sound was.

The boys in the back, biting back smiles, immediately yelled, “Missile! Missile noise! North Korea is coming!”

And the entirety of the class burst into laughter at the absurdity of that statement.