A bad day
I'm procrastinating. I have got many things to do and am exhausted and didn't really want to write, but this feels better than studying my Chinese or planning out Unit 4 for Grades 1 and 2 or writing my "please let me in again" letter to the UW, so writing I am.
Side note: Eileen and I were talking about contractions the other day and she mentioned that she loathes them (more or less) and I wholeheartedly agreed with her. Problem is, if I don't use them, I read my writing and sound like a dork. At any rate, I think I will try a little experiment and see if I can stop using them for a little while and see how hard it is to do. (I had to separate "I" and "will" up there...already slipping!)
Today was kind of a bad day. I mean, not a terrible, "What am I DOING" day, but not the greatest either. In fact, this was a particularly wonderful weekend so I figured the thrill would flow into Monday, but flow it did not. My mother always condones specificity in relation to rants or disappointments or complaints, so let me try and be specific:
I am not yet homesick. I am not yet suffering from severe culture shock. I am sure I could debate myself for days on what constitutes culture shock, but let us say for argument's sake that I am not suffering from whatever it may be. I am not physically suffering too much. Actually, I have had a small intestinal problem since arriving in Wuhan but reflexology and Chinese herbs seem to be fixing this problem and I have been coming in and out of having a cold since last Wednesday, but for the most part, I am fine physically. I get along swell with Eileen and Matthew and enjoy spending time with Robyn and Daisy and Winnie, so I am not suffering from a desire for companionship. I have plenty to do and manage to always fill my free time with various activities - these being equal parts personal interests and exploration. So there is a list of the things that are not bothering me.
I think today's badness stems from the rocking ship that is my ability as a teacher. I am not a very good disciplinarian. Okay, stop tittering. I know you ALL know that I am incapable of yelling or cutting death stares or even wielding any sort of authority. This is a problem. The thing is, I am capable of loosing my temper, feeling fed up, shouting BE QUIET really loud, slamming my hand on the teacher's desk (and bruising it badly - Matthew suggested using a book from now on) - but here is the fascinating part: it does almost no good. The children look up startled and bemused more than anything, are quiet for a minute or so and then go right back to being hellions. They do not act this way when Julia is around and Julia will not be around for at least a week - maybe more. Apparently, Julia is "sick" and needs lots of bed rest and cannot move and when I asked what happened, I was told, "Oh, you know, she just got a little sick." I hope I do not catch what she caught!
So who is helping me while Julia is out of commission? Come on, I know you can guess. That is it! SEASON! She went to class with me today and I might as well have dragged a well-dressed mannequin into class with me. She did shout shrilly twice, but no one listened. The children have almost no respect for me, but they really have none for Season. What I do not understand either is how they can sit there and test me for 40 minutes, knowing full well that I am exasperated and that they are getting away with behavior that would never fly if Julia were in the room and as soon as the bell rings, they come running up, hugging me, kissing my elbows and practicing the words they refused to utter minutes before. I figure if they plan on having the memory of gold fish, I better plan on it too or I will not survive the term, let alone the school year.
And continuing with specificity, I think the problem today was a breakout of "ants in the pants" at the school. My 2nd graders were hysterical with energy and bouncing bottoms. My 1st graders were yanking their sleeves and ducking into the heads of their shirts like human turtles and my kindergarteners looked like a Petrie dish of microorganisms at exercise class when I blurred my eyes. One kindergartener was chewing the corner of her jumper and literally chewed through the fabric and was ordered to spit a wad of navy blue corduroy into the co-teacher's hand.
Apparently it is suggested that one have a PhD or at least a Masters to be a completely competent and successful university-level professor, but I think people are overlooking just how difficult it is to teach the little people. Especially when it comes to the obscure application of a foreign language. Remember how you felt in Calculus or when you were asked to write a poem using iambic pentameter and you rationalized that the subjectivity of such activities guaranteed that you would never need to remember their application again? Even if you enjoyed said activities, you were positive they would never come back to haunt you. So how do you think a Chinese Kindergartener feels when, twice a week, right before dinner, no less, a foreign lady walks into the room and starts chanting strange words over and over and over and pointing to body parts or making faces or doing dances? Do you think they try to commit even one syllable to memory? And do you blame them? I would play games with them if I could but they do not even fully understand the concept of PLAYING a game!
So to recap: I have got Season as a co-teacher again, my students do not listen when I ask them to be quiet, the repetition of the material is boring both the children and the foreign teacher to tears and trying to make it fun by playing games or bringing fun teaching aides only causes an outbreak of excitability that cannot be contained. Somehow, they are retaining something because my test averages have been in the high 80s so far.
And would not you know it? (Okay, you have GOT to use a contraction there, do you not?) I feel better after this tirade. Mother always DOES know best. Specificity will set you free! (Sign off now before you realize that I have not solved anything, I have only managed to vent at length!)
