Open classes are basically horrible things that happen to teachers that up their workload, stress and humility. Though, ironically more fun than the normal run-of-the-mill let’s drudge through this week’s theme kind of class, this one was definitely my first serious downer. I am not freaked out by people watching me. My first year movement class and the infamous “palm-leaf” exercise took care of that. I’m not too worried about my teaching technique. The parents have noooooo idea what I’m saying, and judging by today, don’t seem to care. So much for hours of preparation. Sticky fingers from gluing three hundred labels to three hundred posters. The three hours for shooting a video “how to” presentation, and then editing it in MOVIE MAKER!!!! ((breathing in))
I arrived at work a little buzzed from too little sleep and a sudden self-inflicted attack of caffeine. All this, dear reader, is fine. I love the feeling of being tired from hard productive work, and I was a little excited. I fantasized about how surprised my kids would be at all the fun gimmicks and activities I had planned.
I put up all the posters in the science lab, which had especially been arranged for me by the co-teacher in anticipation of this glorious event. In trudged my blessed students, flopping down in their chairs while slapping their books (the one’s we don’t use) on to the desks. “Urg…teacher, can we sleep today please?”. I have graciously translated and edited their grumblings so you can understand what they mean. I must admit I was a little mortified, but sniggered at their nice little joke.
Then I started to employ all the magical textbook teacher techniques of demonstration and repetition, only to be met by foolishly grinning students, begging me to speak Korean (like that ever works). I hate how efficient teacher trainers always look. Like those horribly over-lit infomercials on TV. Their techniques and ideas always seem so magnificently clever. While they demonstrate counting down from five as a disciplinary standard, you stare at them transfixed. How stupid could I have been not to try this before? It’s so logical. You buy into their ideas and when you finally flick the switch on home soil, the machine blows up in your face.
My students flatly refused to participate in my wonderful class. One student kicked back his chair and told me no to my face. Luckily my charming co-teacher had the moms occupied and giggling at the back of the class, and they weren’t paying attention to the fine display of their kids’ classroom etiquette.
Bearing in mind that this is one of the worst classes, a room full of 17 year old boys who dream of nothing more than the wind in their hair and the smell of the sea…oh and maybe chicks. If I taught them how to pick up girls, they would have hanged on my lips, no doubt.
My teacher requested that I try to cheer up. Little advice for a reoccurring dream.