I have been in Korea for 8 months! It became official today, even though this is what I have been telling people for the last three weeks or so. Eight months, and I still hear the same question over and over again when speaking to friends and family back home or people who are new to the country. In the first months that I was here, it was a bit of a tender subject - I was still acclimatising to the country and finding my feet. But by now, I have formulated the perfect answer.
"I love the country! I hate the job."
I am not made to be a teacher. I do not know what on earth made me think that I was made to be one, or even that I would be a good one. I do not like standing up in front of 35 students and talking for 45 minutes at a time. I learned last week that I don't standing up on a stage in front of 1300 students and singing for five minutes either, crushing my dreams of becoming a singer much like an egg falling off a 30-storey building - It was shattered. I have never been one who was good at orals and standing up in front of my peers to speak, and what possessed me to volunteer to stand up in front of classes of people who don't know me from a bar of soap and essentially do the same thing only for a longer period of time, I don't think I will ever figure out. But whatever the reason, I don't think that I could handle it for another year. So while all of my friends are currently going through life-defining crises of the "to stay or not to stay" variety, my decision was made within the first few months of being here.
But then there are days like today when I can't help but feel a sense of pride in myself and my students, the sense of pride that can only come from having invested time and patience and having those efforts rewarded.
This morning I met my newest co-teacher. Since Alice left earlier in the year, two substitute teachers have taken her place, each staying for around two months. Today her final replacement arrived. I had a class with Hyo-mi this morning and I was a little nervous about it, the same way that I always am when someone new comes in and supervises my classes. I feel like I am going to fail miserably, am not going to meet their expectations and the class is just going to be an utter mess. The class itself went by with few hitches, though it was the low level class and most of them were completely unresponsive. It certainly could have been worse. I was still surprised though when Hyo-mi approached me after the class and told me what a good job she thought I had done, how well I had handled the kids, how good I was at explaining things to them in a simple, easy to understand manner and how beautiful my handwriting is. I stared at her for a little while, absolutely gobsmacked and not knowing how to respond, but pulled myself together for a brief thank you, my cheeks burning, and rushed off to lunch. It was a small ego boost, and I was grateful for it.
I expected that to be my highlight of the day - being told that I am good at what I do always makes me feel a bit better about doing it. Then I had my last class of the day. I love all of my girls classes, but I am not ashamed to admit that I have some favorites, and class 2-10 is so full of life and joy that I can't help but love them. Sure, sometimes the life and joy overflows to leave me dealing with bundles of excess energy that won't be quiet and won't sit still, but I still think that this kind of class is better than those that sit quietly, absorbing every word I say without so much as a smile. As I walked into the class, the chorus of my song started and it took a couple of minutes to calm them down and get the lesson started. One of the best things about this kind of class is that they are usually filled with imagination, which is useful when you are doing a class on metaphors - the ones that they come up with are just far more fun than the normal responses. Who wouldn't want to hear "She is my music teacher" or "She is my mother" to describe someone who is angry instead of "She is a volcano". Sure, the English in the last example is the best, but the other two make for far more amusement. The class went by in a rush of laughter and shouting and fun, and at the end of it, I left with a smile on my face with the "Lala la-la-la-la" chorus fading behind me. Then I heard one of the students calling me, and I stopped and waited for her and her friend to catch up. In their hands they were grasping the worksheet that I had handed out in class. On the back of one of the pages was a drawing of me (quite a likeness, actually) with big red rosey cheeks, and this message written underneath:
"Dear Lala teacher
We are class 2-10. We draw picture of you. We are sorry, we have many pens. We love you.
PS. We are proud you are our teacher."
I should have been annoyed that instead of listening to my lesson and actually paying attention, they were drawing a picture, but I couldn't bring myself to be annoyed. Instead a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through me and I very nearly asked if I could keep it despite it being on the back of the worksheet that they would need for their homework. This was certainly the highlight of my day.
So, while I will still say that I hate the job when asked about it, I have realised that there are some good aspects to teaching, and that it isn't all bad. It's not enough to get me to want to renew, but it does make me feel a little better about staying here for the next four months.
"I love the country! I hate the job."
I am not made to be a teacher. I do not know what on earth made me think that I was made to be one, or even that I would be a good one. I do not like standing up in front of 35 students and talking for 45 minutes at a time. I learned last week that I don't standing up on a stage in front of 1300 students and singing for five minutes either, crushing my dreams of becoming a singer much like an egg falling off a 30-storey building - It was shattered. I have never been one who was good at orals and standing up in front of my peers to speak, and what possessed me to volunteer to stand up in front of classes of people who don't know me from a bar of soap and essentially do the same thing only for a longer period of time, I don't think I will ever figure out. But whatever the reason, I don't think that I could handle it for another year. So while all of my friends are currently going through life-defining crises of the "to stay or not to stay" variety, my decision was made within the first few months of being here.
But then there are days like today when I can't help but feel a sense of pride in myself and my students, the sense of pride that can only come from having invested time and patience and having those efforts rewarded.
This morning I met my newest co-teacher. Since Alice left earlier in the year, two substitute teachers have taken her place, each staying for around two months. Today her final replacement arrived. I had a class with Hyo-mi this morning and I was a little nervous about it, the same way that I always am when someone new comes in and supervises my classes. I feel like I am going to fail miserably, am not going to meet their expectations and the class is just going to be an utter mess. The class itself went by with few hitches, though it was the low level class and most of them were completely unresponsive. It certainly could have been worse. I was still surprised though when Hyo-mi approached me after the class and told me what a good job she thought I had done, how well I had handled the kids, how good I was at explaining things to them in a simple, easy to understand manner and how beautiful my handwriting is. I stared at her for a little while, absolutely gobsmacked and not knowing how to respond, but pulled myself together for a brief thank you, my cheeks burning, and rushed off to lunch. It was a small ego boost, and I was grateful for it.
I expected that to be my highlight of the day - being told that I am good at what I do always makes me feel a bit better about doing it. Then I had my last class of the day. I love all of my girls classes, but I am not ashamed to admit that I have some favorites, and class 2-10 is so full of life and joy that I can't help but love them. Sure, sometimes the life and joy overflows to leave me dealing with bundles of excess energy that won't be quiet and won't sit still, but I still think that this kind of class is better than those that sit quietly, absorbing every word I say without so much as a smile. As I walked into the class, the chorus of my song started and it took a couple of minutes to calm them down and get the lesson started. One of the best things about this kind of class is that they are usually filled with imagination, which is useful when you are doing a class on metaphors - the ones that they come up with are just far more fun than the normal responses. Who wouldn't want to hear "She is my music teacher" or "She is my mother" to describe someone who is angry instead of "She is a volcano". Sure, the English in the last example is the best, but the other two make for far more amusement. The class went by in a rush of laughter and shouting and fun, and at the end of it, I left with a smile on my face with the "Lala la-la-la-la" chorus fading behind me. Then I heard one of the students calling me, and I stopped and waited for her and her friend to catch up. In their hands they were grasping the worksheet that I had handed out in class. On the back of one of the pages was a drawing of me (quite a likeness, actually) with big red rosey cheeks, and this message written underneath:
"Dear Lala teacher
We are class 2-10. We draw picture of you. We are sorry, we have many pens. We love you.
PS. We are proud you are our teacher."
I should have been annoyed that instead of listening to my lesson and actually paying attention, they were drawing a picture, but I couldn't bring myself to be annoyed. Instead a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through me and I very nearly asked if I could keep it despite it being on the back of the worksheet that they would need for their homework. This was certainly the highlight of my day.
So, while I will still say that I hate the job when asked about it, I have realised that there are some good aspects to teaching, and that it isn't all bad. It's not enough to get me to want to renew, but it does make me feel a little better about staying here for the next four months.
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