On Teaching (Part II)
Before jumping back into things, let’s recap: ambushed on day one, bedlam in the classroom, and noon-chi factor. Up to speed? Good.
Although I didn’t know it at the time, it was the noon-chi factor that was contributing to my sense of exasperation on most days. Any attempts at trying to circumscribe my teaching role, my responsibilities, my resources, or my life, were made in vain. It took me about a week to get a computer, another to get the Internet, another to figure out how to use the printer and copier, and yet another to figure out where to dispose of my trash and recyclables. It’s all of these trivial day to day tasks that we take for granted in our mother tongue.
But in time, my skills in deduction gradually sharpened. I slowly but persistently began to figure out how to navigate the office. Through a lot of trial and error, I identified my parameters as a foreign teacher in the school and got closer to understanding what was expected of me. Soon my relationships began to grow. With these newfound insights, my lesson plans became more exciting and effective, and in turn, my students became more engaged in class. And as my students started to respond, my co-teachers became warmer and more like colleagues, involving themselves in the lessons rather than observing from a distance. As the semester wore on, the conduct of my students transformed too. They stopped hitting each other and climbing up the walls like middle schoolers do, and by the end of the semester they were almost behaving like civil human beings, or at the very least like high schoolers.
They still have their off days, though. But I don’t get too upset about it anymore. On the contrary, I really feel for these kids. At only 15, there is already an incredible amount of pressure on them. If you read my post “Judgement Day” then you’re aware of the life or death entrance exams they must take for high school. Starting as early as elementary school, many kids attend hogwans, or private English academies, for hours after school. By middle school, they are accustomed to 10- or 12-hour school days, and sometimes Saturdays. In the hogwans, instruction happens in small groups, if not individually, and misbehavior is not tolerated. So it’s not surprising that after a night full of intense English instruction and studying, these kids come to public school the next day, get into a classroom with 39 of their friends, and lose their heads a bit. Because their lives are relegated to endless study, the comparatively “relaxed” environment of public school often becomes a playground. It would be difficult for anyone to stay disciplined when all they have to look forward to is hours and hours of work in the near future. So, I try to cut them some slack in class because I realize that they don’t have much time to be kids anymore.
The hogwans really create a whole host of problems within Korea’s education system. Their very existence constantly undermines the legitimacy of the public school system. Obviously, we don’t have the money or the resources to provide specialized instruction to each student depending on his or her level of English. But the skill levels wouldn’t be so varied in each class if it weren’t for the hogwans in the first place. Without them, we would have a more manageable, unified body of English learners, and a curriculum that could be designed to meet the needs of just more than a few students per age group. Because of the disparities in skill levels, in many of my classes, the advanced students will be bored and the lower students confused. This results in those two groups not paying attention much and subsequently goofing around. Thus, the small group of students whose skill level is aligned with the lesson, is then distracted by the other students who are goofing off. The order of the classroom can crumble precipitously right before your very eyes.
(Okay, okay. I know you’re thinking things sounds pretty dire around here, but there’s a moral to this story. It’s just taking some time to get there. Be patient, Part III is on the way.)