Show-lesson
I really hope to do the concept of show-lessons some justice and I have a feeling that I should stop here since I'm a little tired, but it has been so long since I sat down and wrote these things out so I think I'll keep on keepin' on.
I realized a little while ago that I've come to regard some activities as "routine" even though they are always unusual because at some point I've got to stop being amazed by things, right? Show-lessons are a perfect example of this. I've witnessed at least 7 of these lessons so far and they are the most unusual experience ever. Up until now, we've only watched Chinese teachers perform (it is ALL certainly an act) the lessons, but next week we'll start seeing foreign teachers do the show-lessons as well.
A show-lesson involves a teacher and a class of students. However, the lesson is held in an auditorium or some other equally un-classroom-like arena that makes for bad acoustics and awkward spatial issues when a teacher asks a student to participate at the blackboard or in front of the class. Usually, the material is so over-prepared that any originality or zest has been squeezed out through extreme practice. Students are probably bribed to be on their best behavior (or threatened, depending on the class's dynamic - some respond well to positive incentives while others only respond to negative incentives). And then there is the problem of pronunciation and grammar and diction and on and on and on. The show-lessons are supposed to give us teachers the chance to discuss what works and what doesn't work. This is a great idea - in theory - but no one talks about the lessons after we've watched them. Correction: no one talks about them seriously.
The foreign teachers become disturbed by the chanting of policewoman as "pleece-ooman" over and over and over again, until there's no way that the children will ever be able to say "police" or "woman" in an understandable manner. We also cringe at questions, which are worded thus, "I'm teacher. Who's her job?" And I'm not criticizing the Chinese teachers specifically; I'm just saying that I now understand why my students sometimes say "bananer" on Tuesday even though they were saying "banana" perfectly on Monday. It's because the Chinese co-teacher spends a class alone with our children everyday and sometimes they're undoing our hard work, simply with their pronunciation. Some of you might think that it is unfair to be so harsh, but the number one concern that parents have is pronunciation. They know from years of studying English from native Chinese speakers that it helps to hear English pronounced by a native English speaking tongue. And the children can do it. My students get the pronunciation of new words correctly, even without me saying the word - just from reading the letters together.
My co-teachers are incredible teachers, but they need my pronunciation. Hopefully we're learning from each other, and I believe that we are, so far.
Anyway, back to show-lessons. There is something very public-access about them too, as if the teachers think there is a camera secretly filming them somewhere out in the audience. They never lose the perma-smile and fill all silences with comments like, "Well, okay then" and "You are clever little boys and girls", and the props are out of control. I think the idea is to show your superior that you use fresh approaches and flashy materials while also making sure that the students perform well, hence the weeks of drilling on ideas for one show-lesson. Matt told me today that his co-teacher has been quizzing the children on answers for her show-lesson next week even though he's working on a very difficult unit right now and could use some extra time to review the grammar in the unit and vocabulary. Instead, his students are learning how to answer, "I like collecting stamps" when the teacher asks, "What's your hobby?" And they've been learning how to answer that question for two weeks now.
I'm seeing now that this entry is complaining about the show-lessons in a kind of overwhelmed immature way. What I'm trying to get at, though, is that it is all JUST a show. The children are removed from the comfort and continuity of the classroom in order to perform for two superiors who look quite bored and preoccupied throughout the performance, meanwhile, thirty or forty teachers are sitting there thinking a million things and never get to effectively voice these thoughts to each other because no one wants to admit that there might be a flaw with the way in which things are run. Of course, it didn't take me coming to China to know that this is how things often go in the world. I guess I was hoping for some foreign methods so far from home.
