I love this job. I have had a few fleeting doubts about some things. Nothing here in China, but about the people I left behind. And between every class I get nervous all over again, and worried they'll catch me in my lie. I am not a real teacher. I am not really this confident and full of mirth. And yet, every single class, I come away with an adrenaline boost of joy. Every class full of fifty Chinese children I look at, I know I am about to win them over. So far, two hundred Chinese children under my belt.
A van comes to pick me up to take me to the school in the mornings at 7:30. Yesterday morning I stood outside the school gate with the same panicky-excited feeling of catching the bus for the first day of school. The driver took me to the school and accompanied me to my first classroom. When I walked in, it was to a flurry of applause, which is a wonderful feeling in any circumstance. And the students with their wide eyes, and their mouths hanging open... all my students are like enthusiastic puppies. I'm sure that will wear off once they get used to me. I think we all had a lot of fun. We played games, I danced and sang, I made endless rounds walking up and down the aisles asking everyone direct questions. This is trouble I'm having. I'm supposed to make them talk, but I don't know how to when there are so many of them. I have two options. I can make them repeat things I say in unison, which isn't very good for helping them learn. Or I can go around the room and ask each of them individually to speak, which takes a lot of time. I prefer to make them speak individually, so they get used to hearing what their own voices sound like making English words, instead of a chorus of voices all saying the same thing. I don't make it too complicated, though, because they are shy and sometimes when I make them speak they finish, and drop down in their seats, and put their books over their heads in embarrassment! Though it's very amusing, it makes me want to go easier on them. I want them to want to talk to me.
The teachers at the primary school seem to think I'm a very good photo opportunity. They particularly like the game where I write words on the board and get the students to come up and circle them. The teacher watched in the first class as the students jumped up, yelling in English, "Me, Teacher! Me, pick me! Pick me, Teacher!" They raised their hands and touched me as I walked by, waving their arms in my face, anything to go up to the board and circle a word in English! It was very thrilling for me, but there was a certain amount of work to get them to that level. The introductions were important, because each student told me their name, where they're from and how old they are. I listened and made eye contact with each student, smiled at them, touched their arm, and said, "Very good, excellent, thank you". I liked starting out this way, instead of correcting them right off, because this way every single student gets a kind of private moment with me, where they have my undivided attention. I think that can mean a lot in a class of 50 students, where there is usually a real teacher who has to really teach them something, and can't spare time like that to speak to them individually. But I'm not nearly as busy or professional, and I can spare all the time I want to. So anyway, in the second class that teacher wanted to get pictures of the game, and of me, and of the students so excited to play it. But the problem was, she told me to play that game immediately after I'd introduced myself, before I got to go around and spend a little time with each student, so when we started playing the game, they were all more nervous. Instead of everyone raising their hand and waving it around and shouting to get picked, half of them raised their hands and sat solemnly waiting to be chosen. If I could have explained to her why, psychologically, the first class was more outgoing than the second, I would have. But instead, I worked on trying to get the students more enthused by giving each one that went up a high five when they got the right word, and having the class give them a round of applause. This worked almost equally well, and by the end of that game, the students were also yelling, "Teacher, here, pick me!" Somewhere there are photos of me and a group of Chinese students who are pulling at my clothes and touching my hair, and I am in the center, laughing.
I want to teach them the parts of the body, too, and I have a game I'd love to play, but I need some of those little star stickers you got in grade school. The students choose where to put a sticker on me, and then say, "It's on your _____". This way, they learn the body parts, use them in a complete sentence, and get to have fun putting stickers on my body, which they probably don't get to do with a lot of their teachers. I'm sure me walking around the classroom with stickers on my nose and cheeks will be funny for them, as well. For some reason this reminds me that all of my students love fat jokes. And it doesn't seem to be in a mean way. I am very good at picking out scorn from humor, almost obsessively. In my first class I asked every student to name something they were good at. A chubby little boy said, "I am good at eating!" and then laughed, and everyone else laughed too. When I said, "I am good at eating TOO!" I thought they'd never stop. So in my next three classes I used the same line. "I am good at eating" and patted my belly, and "I am good at dancing!" and danced around the room a little. You'd think I was freakin Mickey Mouse, the way these kids thought that was entertaining. So then, every chubby student in the class thought it was the coolest thing to say, "I am good at eating, too, ha ha ha!" And when one of the students said, "I am good at dancing, too," I would make them stand up and dance with me for a second, so I got a lot of students proclaiming to be dancers. In this way I could tell which students liked to show off, because it was the show-offs who wanted an opportunity to get a little jiggy with it with their teacher in front of the class. By the end they would say, "I am good at dancing," and immediately start shaking their booties, assuming I would join in (which I did).
I felt that things were going well because of all the laughing and yelling and activity. It wasn't boring, they were happy, etc. But when class was over, I felt like a celebrity. In the first class several students yelled, "I love you!" as I left. I turned around and blew them all kisses. In the second class, I heard students muttering, "I like her". After every class a swarm of students would come up to get me to sign my name in their notebooks. That's right, I was asked for autographs. I do not know why. Out of my 200 students so far, I have probably given around 50 autographs. After a few students get them, the regular teacher steps in like my bodyguard and herds me out of the classroom. It would only be more realistic if she had a walkie talkie, communicating with the teacher in the other classroom: "We're bringing her your way. We're taking the B stairwell. Be ready, we'll hand her off at oh nine hundred."
Those are the kids, though. Yesterday and today I also had new classes of older students, 20 and 21. They are the same age as me and don't ask for my autograph, they ask for my phone number. They ask to have pictures taken with me. Whenever I would turn around from facing the blackboard, there would be a dozen or so cell phones pointed at me, which would disappear immediately. At the end of class all my students stood in a line and waited to have their photos taken with me, and the ones waiting just took more candid photos of me. It was very funny. The older students are different because they can make decisions independently of me, and collectively with each other. You don't know flattery until you have been serenaded by 50 beautiful young Chinese girls. My last class asked me to sing a popular American song. I chose "New Romantic". I chose it for two reasons: 1. I don't know all the words of any pop songs, and 2. I knew they wouldn't be able to follow the words and so it would take the pressure off me to sing them correctly. It was an inaccurate choice for two reasons: 1. It's not American, and 2. it's not really pop either. But it was the best I could do. Then they asked to sing a song for me, and every one of them began singing, in perfect choral unison, "Ocean, Hometown", which is a Chinese song, so of course I don't know anything about it. I don't know if it's quality music or not, but when someone serenades you in a foreign tongue, who cares? When I submit to these things from the students the Chinese teachers say I am "so patient, very patient", and I am embarrassed to admit that, actually, I enjoy it! Who wouldn't enjoy it? I don't even care if there is a certain amount of spectacle to their interest, like they think I am somewhat freakish. I still like it! I am not a person who shies away from admiration.
I have been wondering if my teaching is too playful, and they're really not learning anything at all. I like it that way, I have to be honest. I like the playful. I like the shouting and the fun and the games. But I wonder if I am doing things right, or if I will soon be reprimanded for my behavior. Can work be this fun? Can you enjoy every moment of it this way? I swear to god, if I get any more skeptical and cynical of my own happiness, I'm just going to turn to dust!
You're happy, Autumn! Just live with it! Just let it be!
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