In Like a Lion

Thankfulness comes hard in February. Short days coupled with grey weather and (here, at least) lots of smog make it hard to think of anything but what you want to be different.

Perhaps that’s why they say March comes in like a lion, out like a lamb: it’s an apt description of how you feel at the beginning and end of this month. Thankfully, now that it’s March, things are starting to warm up, the sun’s coming out, and we even had a beautiful cloudless day today with the pollution at only 29! So maybe I’ll become more lamb-like quickly (don’t bet on it, though!). With school starting and lesson plans galore, plus rejection letters pouring in from everywhere, a change in the weather still isn’t helping this grumpy person much.
Still, I’m excited about this semester. I’m finally getting to teach actual EFL classes instead of College Composition adapted for non-native English speakers. It’s going to be so much more fun to talk about things like friendship and music and clothing in class instead of things like sentence writing or comma splices. Plus, there’s the added benefit of my students telling me (in their self-introductions to the class) how beautiful I am and what a cute smile I have. I can’t imagine any university student in America saying that to their teacher–can you? (Although of course I don’t mind.) Must be different cultural norms here!

So maybe now that March is getting its move on and it’s starting to get light in the mornings, I’ll get more creative inspiration and less moaning about how awful job searching is. It certainly can’t hurt that I won’t have time to fill out applications 24/7. If you have any ideas of blog posts you’d love to read from me (all 16 of you who read my blog), you can leave a note in the comments. I’d love to hear your ideas!

One Easy Step to Foolproof Humility

You wanna know how to get humble quickly? Teach English as a foreign language.

The instant you step into the classroom and open your mouth and are greeted by blank stares from at least half of the class, you will feel like a failure. After all, communication is one of the most basic things in life. You learn to talk in your native language when you’re so little that even jumping is an accomplishment. Speaking is something we all do as easily as we breathe, and we just assume that people will understand us and know what we’re saying.

All of that changes when you move to a foreign country. Suddenly, your language is no longer the dominant one, and the people who speak it may have never even seen a foreigner before, much less heard the strange accent with which you speak. And your vocabulary–when you think you’re using simple words–may be even more of a headache. Simple idioms that everyone uses where you’re from (think “happy as a clam” or “so far, so good”) may (and probably will) stymie foreign speakers.

Add the language barrier to the fact that you’re unsure of what you’re supposed to teach and when and suddenly your stress levels become much higher. If you’re like me, you’ll worry about whether your lesson plans can possibly be organized enough for the students to know what you want them to do, if maybe you should have covered other aspects of argumentative essays in your last PowerPoint (which, by the way, I EXTREMELY dislike using. . . but it saves me money on giving out handouts. . .). You’ll wonder if they will end their semester knowing only vaguely more about writing than they did when they went into it. But since there wasn’t anything more you knew how to do, you figure they’ll probably know a little more. . .and you haven’t ruined their English speaking skills yet, so maybe it was all right. Although some of them still struggle with subject-verb agreement and using articles.

When you begin grading their papers for the semester, it’ll be even worse. You’ll constantly doubt whether you gave a fair grade–maybe so and so really deserved an A, and you gave an A-. Or maybe you’re being too easy on everyone and should give more B- and C grades. On top of that, you feel like you really should give everyone comments on their paper to tell them what you liked and what needed improvement, but then on the 90th paper (out of 110) you have only five minutes before the next class starts so you throw all your careful grading out the window, slap a grade on it, and move to the next. Surely they value actually having a graded paper returned to them instead of one with lots of comments but no grade or one returned a week later!

Anyways, I only have around 60 papers left to grade before 8:00 a.m. tomorrow, when I’ll have another 110 (handwritten, no less!) slung at me. Yes, for finals here (which are 50% of their grade, no less–how am I ever supposed to grade THOSE fairly??), they have to write an entire essay in an hour and a half. Thankfully, they’re generally short essays. And all my objective fairness doesn’t really matter anyways–I can only give 20% As, even if there are more students who deserve an A. But that’s China for you!

Pray for me–I’m off to grade papers! (And I’m sure I’ll become more humble in the process.)