I think I've mentioned that teaching English as a second language involves a lot of charades. This is even more true when teaching science to eight-year-olds--challenging enough--and then adding a language barrier. We're on a pollution/recycling unit right now.

"Okay, guys. Show me your Pollution Face."
"EWWWWWWWW!!" they say, screwing up their faces and sticking their tongues out like Mr. Yuk, complete with two thumbs down.
"That's right. Why is pollution bad?"
"Earth is sick and very many sad."
"Right. Let's see your Recycling Face!"
"Hooray!" Two thumbs way way up, with deceptively angelic smiles, tossing their ribbon-and-curl hairstyles over their shoulders. Only girls in my science class.
"And why is it good to recycle?"
"Earth is happy."

We are going to be making the butterfly banks out of recycled bottles today. I will probably get in trouble by my boss for deviating from curriculum today, but I'm somewhat indispensable to him because a.) I am emceeing the school spelling bee tonight and b.) he's manipulated me into teaching his summer class schedule because I am 'senior foreign teacher' at my school, which means an extra thousand dollars in July, but no hapkido for a month. Thus are the politics of a hagwon.

Anyhow. As I'm assembling the craft materials needed for the butterflies, it strikes me that teaching kindergarden and first grade is really just Mom Practice. *On that note, I'd like to take a moment to thank my mom--all moms, really--for the countless batches of papier mache and play-doh and assorted other art projects you supported over the years. You were a really good sport.* It's not just the crafting that's led to this thought. Last week, I took the science class outside to observe and draw natural resources and taught them about how we stop, look and listen before holding hands to cross the street. Then I showed a kid how to tie his shoe, and a couple days later, splinted a boy's sprained finger with a ballpoint pen, toilet paper and scotch tape. He injured it doing Tae Kwan Do in the halls.

"Teacher! Teacher! Teacher!" Mom! Mom! Mom!

I like the little kids more than I thought I would, though. I really like how they call me Alli-sang and bow to me. Very Karate Kid. They take a lot of energy, but we devised a three-rule system (raise your hand, be quiet, sit down) that's fairly effective. If they follow the rules, they get to play a game at the end of class. If not, tough luck. They've all bought into the system enough that if I forget to write down the rules at the beginning of each class, they yell at me. Which is what I deserve for messing with my own routine, I suppose. I especially enjoy how little it takes to impress young children; the first time I shuffled a deck of cards in front of them, they asked if I knew Harry Potter. I said yes.

written by  alli_ockinga on June 25, 2009 from Inch'on, South Korea
from the travel blog: I go Korea!
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"Yes, children--all white people can do magic."

Way to assist in the furthering of imperialist views on global culture, Alli.

;)

I also DEMAND more information about this spelling bee you played announcer for. What the hell are spazzy kids from other countries like?

written by  Ryan on June 28, 2009

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Ry, in response to your last three comments:
1. Don't worry, I refuse to die in Korea.
2. I love you.
3. Spazzy kids are the same all over the world. Little kids are insane and never, ever tire of hiding under the table to "scare" me every time I walk in the room. Preteens are super awkward and the boys try to take pictures of me with their phones, which I try not to think about too much. Teenagers are smart-asses and constantly feel the need to test their limits, questioning even such mundane matters as "turn to page 94." And for some reason, I really love them all in spite of it. Well, 95% of them at least :)

written by  alli_ockinga on June 29, 2009

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