Caveat: The Smart Kids

My students in my ER1T cohort were messing around with their cell phones today, and taking my picture, and I was mugging for them and acting goofy, and decided that turnabout was fair and so we did a class portrait.
Normally I’m reluctant about asking to take pictures of people – I guess it’s a weird sort of expression of my shyness or something, but in the mood of the moment, it seemed like good fun.  The result is that for the first time, I will share with my readers a portrait of some of my students.
This is a picture of the ER1T cohort (mostly 5th and 6th graders, ages 12-13 – these are the young ones, but the really SMART young ones, and my absolute favorite class as far as level of fun and motivation).
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Rear row: Taylor, Gloria, Jane and Harry.  Front row:  Maria, Ellen, Edward and Will.
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Caveat: I’d Like to Buy 100 Robot Bees, Please

I have this thing I’m doing, where I have the students call me on the telephone (or pretend to), and try to sell me something. You know, training the world’s future telemarketers, and all that.
So my student Lainy just tried to sell me a robot bee, which was conveniently (and temptingly) named Jared-bee. I immediately placed an order for 100, since they were only 80 cents a piece.  I did this, despite the fact that the operation and/or functionality of the robot bee was not entirely clear… although honey definitely played into it somehow – useful for sweetening rice cakes, she said.
The weather has definitely warmed up a bit, and there are occasionally puffy clouds with cobalt-colored undersides that float around.  Still below freezing at night, however.  But spring seems to be getting ready to spring.
At this moment, I’ve prepared some ramyeon with added vegetables – cabbage, tomatoes and broccoli, and with an egg poached into it, for dinner.  And I’m watching tv, where I just saw a bearded man reach into his pants and pull out a piece of pizza.  Isn’t television amazing?
Here is a picture I took about a week ago on my cell phone, of a snowy street I about 2/3 of the way to work, walking from my home.
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Caveat: Ontology Recapitulates Phylogeny

How is it I ended up spending 20 minutes trying to explain the above phrase to my Princess Mafia?  We got on the topic because I fell for the temptation of revisiting the chicken and egg question that Jung had raised the other day.  I'm not sure if I succeeded in explaining it, and what I took for looks of fascination could very well have been a simple hope that I would become so obsessed with trying to explain evolution and biogenetics that I would forget to conduct a "regular" class with them.

One lesson I've been learning lately: I have to be careful differentiating between deference and interest, here. 

Caveat: Dropping Like Flies

With the turnover to a new month, RingGuAPoReomEoHagWon has lost some students, and everyone (meaning Curt and Pete, really) seems to be in a dead panic over the loss of population.

On the one hand, I feel that we should have expected some losses as the school adopted its new management, policies and curricula – it's a big change from what the School of Tomorrow was, and I'm sure some of the students and/or parents were disappointed. 

On the other hand, I have my paranoia that I'm personally doing something wrong.  My insecurities.  There was a bit of a scandal around the PF class last week, involving the crisis I alluded to the other day – when they complained about how boring I was.  The class has other issues, I remain convinced – but as of today, I'm no longer teaching them – so we shall see, I guess. 

Caveat: Egg. Chicken.

Some of my students had the assignment to "interview me" but I hadn't given them any kind of guidance as to what sort of questions they should ask.  I got a lot of interesting and different sorts of questions, but the funnest one was from a girl named Jung, who asked me "Which came first, the chicken or the egg, in your opinion?"  I hardly needed to hesitate:  the egg, of course – it's a matter of genetics, right?   I'm not sure she really understood my explanation. 

Caveat: But… Do I Cough Boringly?

On the one hand, I seem to have suddenly gotten sick again.  Similar symptoms to what made all of December miserable for me, with an added bonus of nausea.  On the other hand, after a heartfelt chat with the PF cohort, Pete (fellow teacher and nominal boss, now that Danny is gone) reported to me that they all said I was boring.  Now… I take this, to some extent, with a grain of salt – teenagers will report that any adult is is "boring" given the right context and question.  And their dissatisfaction with me is never far from sight – these are the same kids that used to be my notorious T2 group back when we were the Tomorrow School.  Still… it's unhappy news. A downer sort of day.

Despite this, or to spite me – or both – it started snowing when I was walking to work, and was still snowing 9 hours later when I was walking home.  Not heavy snow, but very sparkly, and the sidewalks were slippery, though only an inch or two appeared to have accumulated as far as I could tell.

So.  I know – objectively – I'm not a universally "boring teacher."  But with select groups, I definitely seem to receive more than my fair share of criticism in that direction.  Mostly intermediate kids.  With the most advanced kids, ability-wise or age-wise, I seem to do OK.  And I really have fun with the 13-and-under ("elementary," here), and for the most part they seem to have fun with me.  My absolute favorite class right now is my ER1 group from the Tuesday schedule (the second most advanced of the elementary students) – they take such joy in participating, learning, trying things out.

Where is this leading?  I have been saying that part of what this whole "go to Korea and teach English" thing is about is my trying to find out if I want to reconsider teaching as a career.  And despite the discouragement I have been receiving, I haven't given up the idea yet.  But I find myself considering a never-before-seriously-considered option:  that I might be best suited to going into teaching at the elementary level.  I mean, as a career – not just as a way to goof around for a few years.  This is a downright weird idea to me.  But I guess you never know.

Caveat: Programmable Universe

I finished some books over the last several days.  I generally have 4-6 books “in progress” at any given time, and for some reason this weekend and this morning I wrapped up two books in succession:  Programming the Universe by Seth Lloyd, and The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins.
Why was yesterday a horrible day?  Things happening at work, annoying me.  I don’t think I feel like going into it right now, but suffice to say that hearing third-hand complaints (student to parent to “homeroom” teacher to me) about how my favorite class is “boring” kind of has me feeling depressed.  I thought things were going well.
I don’t have much to say, I guess, other than that.  I’ve been working 10 hour days, Monday and today – grading papers, trying to come up with some way to make classes more challenging and interesting, within the boundaries of the curriculum.   And meanwhile, trying memorize my lists of Korean vocabulary.
A few days back I mentioned seeing a “basket selling” truck, and that I snapped a picture of it with my cell phone – but I failed to post picture.  So here it is – right on the corner of the major intersection where the school is:
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Caveat: Not My Proudest Moment

The handover is complete.  Danny and Diana left the school today completely in the hands of its new owner, LinguaForum, and left for their missionary training.  I had a rather idiotic minor tantrum over additional work that seemed to be piling on at the last minute – additional student evaluations which in principle I support but when I'm given 24 hour notice that they need to be completed, I'm rather easily annoyed.

Then the staff (minus Danny and Diana) went out for dinner, which was alright, though I didn't do very well with the efforts at earnest discussion of what happens next now that the erstwhile owners are completely out of the picture, especially as the soju was circulating thickly.

And the we all went out to a noraebang (karaoke room, basically).  Now, most people know I neither sing well nor am I particularly accomplished at singing badly in an uninhibited manner – therefore my efforts at karaoke are both self-conscious and painful for me, and probably unpleasant for others, too.  But I made efforts to be sociable, and to make amends for my earlier tantrum at work.

All this, in the wake of one of my best in-classroom experiences so far.  Students took charge of their class, where we were having a little debate.  They made up teams, they discussed strategy, they coached each other.  There was some Korean used, but the speeches themselves as they took turns in the debate were all in perfectly acceptable English (at their level, of course).  But wow… the way they showed enthusiasm for learning, for helping each other:  I was very impressed and pleased.

So that was a proud moment.  But what followed.  Wasn't.

Caveat: Origins of Jared-teacher

Julie: "Teacher, teacher, how old are you?"

Jared: "I'm six hundred and sixty-two years old."

Joey: laughs, says something in Korean.

Julie: "Really?  That is very old."

John: "Jared-teacher is alien."

More laughing.

Julie: "Teacher.  What year are you born in?"

Jared: "I was born in 1345."

Julie: "Ohhh."  Begins calculating on her notebook.  Says something in Korean.  More laughter.

Joey: "Teacher ape-like alien."

Laughter.

Jared: "Yes I'm an alien.  Remember, we discussed this."

Nodding.  Laughter.

John: "You come UFO?"

Jared:  "My spaceship looks like this."  I draw a picture on whiteboard.

Julie: "Where are you from?"

Jared: "I'm from Mars."

Students exchange glances of confusion.  "Mars-eu mwa-ye?" 

David: "What is Mars?"

Jared explains with a picture on the board, drawing a diagram of the solar system.

Julie: "Ahhhh!"

Jared:  "Ne.  Hwaseong."

Someone: "Mars-planet!"

Laughter.

Caveat: Lousy Technology

LinguaForum Language hagwon has a website.  It's trying to create internet-based curriculum support, including a means for providing teachers an ability to assign web-based homework and evaluation tools that students can use.  This is an admirable goal – but jeez, are they falling short.

They want me to use the web-based tool to assign writing assignments to my "comprehensive" classes.  I had been under the impression that there was some web-based pre-built curriculum-compatible questions, but in actuality what I was given was a blank form where I had to fill in what the assignment was, give it a title, explain it, etc.  I was reduced to a time-consuming effort to copy an assignment onto the website from the paper materials I already had.

Further, I was then unable to edit or delete mistakes.  How is this any kind of improvement over a piece of paper from a photocopy machine?  Further, the LFA (RingGuAPoReom EoHagWon) website uses technology that is apparently quite fragile – the site crashes when I try to access it using either Firefox or IE 7.0 under Vista – it only works when I log on using IE 6 under XP.

So, argh.

It was snowing beautifully this morning, but by this afternoon it was blustery but above freezing and the air was damp, and the sky was gorgeous, full of scudding clouds.  I had a flashback to an October morning in Hornopirén, Chile, and Spring snowstorm-turning-to-rain.  Same hint of woodsmoke in the air, but the setting there was ends-of-the-earth, and here in Ilsan, it feels closer to the center-of-the-world, with high rises all around and taxis and buses bustling by on broad boulevards.

Caveat: Someone’s Vacation

Not mine.  The students are on a month-long winter vacation from the public-school component of their educations.  The consequence is that the hagwon has extended hours – so, our "vacation schedule" entails more teaching hours than last month.  Well, it doesn't help that, now under new management as LinguaForum Academy, we're trying to take on more students without appropriately expanded staffing, either. 

Regardless of causes, I'm working more.  Yesterday, I had 7 45-minute classes in a row.  And Tuesdays and Thursdays will look like that for all of January.  In related news, because of the "vacation schedule," suddenly we are also working from 9am starting time, instead of a 4pm starting time.  I'm having some trouble adapting to the sudden change in working hours, though, as usual, I always find that something forcing me out of bed in the morning can weirdly affect my outlook – negatively in the short term, as it makes me grumpy… but, oddly, positively in the longer term, as somehow I always feel more "virtuous" at the close of the day, having risen early and done productive work well before dusk.

Ah well.

Caveat: End of Tomorrow

Today was kind of the last official day for School of Tomorrow (language hagwon); as of next week, we become part of LinguaForum officially. We had a long staff meeting that wasn’t entirely pleasant, as we confronted the changes that we face – more classes to teach, completely changed curricula, etc.

Meanwhile, it was hard to get motivated to teach out of the “old” books for one last day – so I had the kids reading a simple little poem by Wallace Stevens, called “The Snow Man.”

The Snow Man

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

 
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Caveat: Confusion can be good

Since the xmas party on Tuesday, I've been telling my students a little story of it – how I was the only foreigner there, and how my very limited Korean language skills meant I remained very confused most of the time.  But then I share with them the fact that I actually picked up quite a bit, just from understanding 5% (or less!) of the vocabulary flying around.  And that I learned a lot.  And I coined a little aphorism:  "If you understand everything, you're learning nothing."  They seem to appreciate this – even the less-motivated students nod sagely after it sinks in and they've parsed its syntax.

I bought 꼬치 (chicken skewers) for the O2 students after they got a pretty high average on a vocabulary quiz.  A way to ring out the old year, I guess.  They seemed pleased with this.

It was drizzling as I walked home.  Where did winter go?  It's been warmer the last few days.  Hmm… typical Korean pattern, actually.  A bit of Siberia, a bit of southern Japan – the air mass boundary moves back and forth.   And when it's warmer, it's wetter.  So the best chance for snow is when the line's moving north… which is always followed by warmer weather.  Which is why Korean winters rarely have much snow on the ground.

Caveat: Santa Cruz?

Yesterday we had an obligatory xmas party, in association with the local campuses of the "Blue" Academy which is another branch of the hagwon corporation that has acquired my place of work (our school becomes part of a new branch of this corporation, and will be called LinguaForum <- they have a website).

Actually, it wasn't completely obligatory – Danny and Diana and Grace all managed to get out of it, pleading previous obligations elsewhere.  But Ryan and I went, along with the new manager guy, Kurt, and the new incoming teacher Pete (everyone goes by English names around the academy, and I'll stick to naming them that way in part to allow them – and myself – anonymity, vis-a-vis google et al.).

Kurt picked me up around 4, and I met his wife and daughter and we drove to Hwajeong, where the party was.  There were about 500 people there, in a big rented hall, including important boss types, regional VP types, lots of teachers and staff and families.  And I swear, I was the only foreigner there.

You see, this LinguaForum thing is a new venture – at least for the Ilsan / Goyang region where we are.  Most of the Pureun schools are math/science prep places, and thus much less likely to have foreign staff.  The company is trying to grow their "English hagwon" biz rapidly, and thus are going around acquiring small independent schools such as ours was, and converting them over.

This is the first large social event I've attended in Korea.  Unlike my colleagues, I hardly resented it – I actually thought it was nice to have something to do for xmas day – even if it was nothing more than schmooze with people in a language I barely understand.

Some things I had been led to expect, however, based on reading, conversations, and just some degree of understanding of the nature of Korean society.  There were interminable awards ceremonies.  There was much silly raising and lowering of hands, clapping, and waving about, in unison.  There were karaoke contests, including some major company bigwig belting out some charming almost bluegrassy Korean ballad.  There were prizes for children, and an endless buffet with a nearly infinite variety of almost entirely unidentifiable foods.  There was soju and beer on every table, but much less drinking than I'd expected.

I had a few humorous misunderstandings:  at one point, I couldn't figure out why everyone was talking about Santa Cruz (as in the city in California, or maybe a Spanish religious concept).  It should have been obvious:  they were talking about Santa Claus, but the "L" changes to "R" and the vowel was definitely off, and the consequence was that it didn't even occur to me until had to ask someone, despite what day it was.

Finally I got a ride home with Pete and his wife and daughter, and I told them some of my tales about travels around Latin America.  I tried to go to sleep early.

This morning I had to wake up early and go to work by 9 am (considering I normally get off at 10 pm, this is indeed quite early).   We had to drive into Seoul and go to a training for the new RingGuAPoReom curriculum.  Which ended up being not terribly enlightening.  The first session was OK, but I had been hoping something like a mock lesson or something dynamic, but it was really just a little lecture about the contents of the books, which was really fairly self-evident to us, having had the chance to look through them on our own.  The second session was about the same, with the added factor of being in Korean, which meant I understood my standard 3-5%, which is hardly enough to get me to any kind of appreciation of what's being said.

And then we drove back to Ilsan.  Ryan and Pete and I had lunch at the hole-in-wall place in the basement of the next-door building, and they were very sociable with me for a change (well, not for a change, as Pete's completely new… so, I mean Ryan, I guess).  They started teaching me some "restaurant survival Korean" and then made me make all the requests to the serving staff:  more rice, check please, etc.

I was thinking to myself, "damn, I've learned more Korean in the last two days than in the last two months!"  So… maybe working for a big company will be good for me, here.  Now, if I can only shake this goddawful flu virus.

Caveat: Talmudic Citation

When a Korean teenager quotes the Talmud in his writing assignment, I suspect this indicates nothing more than a strong set of internet-search skills.  However, the fact that he used the quote meaningfully and in an appropriate context shows some talent with language, too, I would say.  Always little stunning things like this, to keep me motivated.

Ever since my crisis last month with my T2's, I've been getting happier and happier with my students.  But, balancing that is an increasing discomfort with my coworkers.  Part of that is, undoubtedly, the transfer-of-power taking place as the independently owned-and-operated School of Tomorrow becomes transformed into a small branch campus of LinguaForum Academy, Inc.  But I also feel that my way of coping with my teenagers' recalcitrance (i.e. backing way off, ending arguments about whether homework gets done, etc.) probably isn't in accord with the do-more-sooner and work-harder philosophy of the other teachers.

My feeling is that I'll get more accomplished exposing them to English in a relaxed, informal and pleasant atmosphere than cowing them into compliant tasks of mindless memorization.   But it's hard to quantify results, which is what parents want.  So I'm not sure how this will go… of course, with a new curriculum coming soon, it's all moot.

Meanwhile, one thing certain to happen with the new owners / managers is that I will probably end up working more hours, at least at first.  It's already started to happen – I had to come to work early yesterday and today for these long, tedious presentations to parents about the changes in the school (tedious for me, anyway, since they're conducted in Korean, and I can do little but be a nice American-looking spokesmodel standing around).

So I'm exhausted, and feeling like the flu is trying to make a comeback.  And I'll be working Christmas day… well, not exactly working, but interacting with coworkers at an obligatory Christmas party.  I don't really resent this at all – I look forward to it, as I might get to know some of the new people associated with the new corporate parent of our little hagwon.

Walking home, I had an ecstatic moment when I understand not one, but two words in a row in an overheard fragment of conversation between two people walking the opposite direction.  You have to understand, this is a milestone, as such overheard conversations of passing pedestrians are quite challenging for a language-learner.   I understood, exactly:  "blah blah blah … my younger sister… blah blah blah"  I have no idea as to context, etc.  But it was cool to hear it and know for certain what it meant.   We take our victories, however small, right?

Caveat: Casino Problem

Nothing can be more enlightening than having a political discussion with a pair of 13 year old boys.  Obviously, what they say is, likely, a reflection of the views of their parents – but they tend to be more frank and up front – especially if they have limited language skills in the language in which the discussion is taking place.

On the subject of South Korea's just-this-instant elected president, 이명박, Tom explained to me that he was "crazy man," and when I asked him to elaborate, he said he was "a robber" and that he had a "casino problem."  I'm going to guess that Tom's parents voted for one of the other guys. 

It is true that the presumed president-elect will be facing a criminal probe by the national legislature, before even being sworn in next month, for his association with a corporate fraud case.  Ah well, politics is politics, everywhere, right?

I had a good day at school today.  All the students were relatively pleasant and at least moderately motivated.  Several, including normally silent Mona in my T2 class, are stunning me with unforeseeable founts of interest and actual work.

Cindy, in the brilliant T1 class, has the flu, and she and I were chatting before class about how everyone has the flu, these days, including me, just now beginning to recover (knock on wood).  Then she said something very funny:  "Your voice is much nicer when you're sick."  I guess she was referring to that raspy, slightly lower sound it has.  But… I didn't know what to say.  Should I have said, "Oh.  I'll try to stay sick, then"?  But I think she was joking.  Sometimes I can't tell.

Caveat: What if zombies took over Ilsan?

I don't know the answer.  Just something to wonder about, I guess.

So it's been a bit hush-hush, but I think it's common knowledge now, and thus I will blog it (since they're installing a new sign on the building, after all).  The School of Tomorrow Language academy has been sold by its owners, Danny and Diana, to a big conglomerate academy business, and will become the new "RingGuAPoReomEoHagWon."  The company is trying to break into the specialized English-only academy biz, and this is their opportunity.

Thus I get to work for both a small, independent "mom and pop" academy, as well as a big corporate academy, all under a single one-year contract.  There will be a lot of changes, not least will be a radically different curriculum.  I still don't really know what to expect.  But the "hippie school" ambiance that I rather liked does seem endangered.  On the other hand, I may get some more "professional" management/feedback, which might help me feel more comfortable about where I stand as far as performance.

Caveat: long time ago, men were best

I was walking to work along "Broadway" this afternoon, and happened past this temporary store selling Xmas decorations, and blasting from some loudspeakers was that latter-day American Xmas-music standy, "Feliz Navidad," sung earnestly in a charming Korean accent.  This was culturally disorienting.  The sun was a lovely blurry gold in a hazy winter sky.

Earlier, I had enjoyed watching an episode of Spongebob Squarepants on my television, dubbed into Korean.  The fact that I didn't understand anything he said really didn't interfere with my ability to understand the plot, although there's some pretty clever word-play in those cartoons that I obviously missed out on.  As I watched, I had some sweet instant coffee, and ate a pre-made sandwich of indeterminate content bought from the "Orange" (e.g. 7-11 type) store downstairs.  The sandwich was made with an eerie green-tinted bread.  It tasted pretty good, in a wonder-bread sort of way.

When I got to work, I was correcting some writing books, and ran across the following passage, written by Julia, age  13.  Note the oddly-phrased demonstration of her strong awareness of Korea's rapidly evolving gender-roles:  "I think test is garbage.  Test has no existence, cause if I know who make test, I curse him (or her, but I think him, because long time ago, men were best)."

I played a game with the T2 class today, and for the first time in over two months, every single student participated and even showed glimmers of enthusiasm.  Of course, we didn't touch the curriculum.  Ah well.

I also had recently given a "꼬치 challenge" to my 수능 and T1 cohorts.  The challenge involved the following:  if they could get a class average of above 75% on a context-based vocabulary quiz for the current chapter in the text, I would buy them all 꼬치 (skewered barbecue chicken, see entry of a week or so ago).  Well, it never rains but it pours – both groups made the grade today, and I paid out 21,000 won to treat them all to 꼬치 from the corner stand.  But it was worth it to see them work hard at it… bribery gets you everywhere, as they say.  And the stomach is the key to these youngsters' minds.

Caveat: Ephesians 6:12-19

One of my coworkers has the following posted prominently at his desk:

12 우리의 씨름은 혈과 육에 대한 것이 아니요 정사와 권세와 이 어두움의 세상 주관자들과 하늘에 있는 악의 영들에게 대함이라   
13 그러므로 하나님의 전신 갑주를 취하라 이는 악한 날에 너희가 능히 대적하고 모든 일을 행한 후에 서기 위함이라   
14 그런즉 서서 진리로 너희 허리띠를 띠고 의의 흉배를 붙이고   
15 평안의 복음의 예비한 것으로 신을 신고   
16 모든 것 위에 믿음의 방패를 가지고 이로써 능히 악한 자의 모든 화전을 소멸하고   
17 구원의 투구와 성령의 검 곧 하나님의 말씀을 가지라   
18 모든 기도와 간구로 하되 무시로 성령 안에서 기도하고 이를 위하여 깨어 구하기를 항상 힘쓰며 여러 성도를 위하여 구하고   
19 또 나를 위하여 구할 것은 내게 말씀을 주사 나로 입을 벌려 복음의 비밀을 담대히 알리게 하옵소서 할 것이니   

This is from Ephesians, chapter 6 – I used the amazing world wide web, to figure this out.  The same section of King James begins this way:

12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.   
13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.
….

I'm going to come straight out and say: looks like more apocalypse, to me.

I have been feeling a bit under the weather, again.  But hardly apocalyptic.

Caveat: More thanks

These last two days, I have gone all-out to approach my teaching and my world with a sort of broad gentleness, and an attitude of thankfulness and kindness.   Partly in the spirit of the holidays.  Partly in the spirit of the kindness of my employers, who, despite their recent criticisms of my abilities, remain genuinely decent, fair-minded people, whose foremost concern is the kids – in this respect, I seem to have lucked out over the more mass-production language hagwons that seem to predominate here.

But mostly, because I have become more and more convinced that my best personal cure to episodes of anger and frustration is simply to "think" myself out of it.  That's the cognitive behavioral therapy thing, right?  So…

And the honest truth, the last two days have been much happier and less stressful days at work.  Not perfect… no, those T2's are still… well, no comment. 

But the T1's – wow, what a smart group of kids.  We're doing a unit on biology.  I put together a lecture on the Monerans for Wednesday, and we kept on it today, answering quiz questions via discussion and reading more material.  I got to talk about stuff I'd long forgotten and have been reading furiously to remember from my almost-minor in botany back as an undergrad at Minnesota:  prokaryotes vs eukaryotes, the symbiotic origins of chloroplasts and mitochondria, the carbon cycle, taxonomic systems and phylogenetics.  And for the most part, at least half are keeping up with me. 

And though not quite the same level, academically, the Monday/Friday 수능 cohort, are just plain pleasant and fun, as we talk about democratic movements being suppressed in Egypt and Korean Presidential politics (they'll have elections in December) – I got them to make a prediction that 이명박 would be the winner.  We'll see if this pans out – I have this vague recollection of reading somewhere that, in the U.S. anyway, polling teenagers is a better predictor of presidential race outcomes than polling adults.    Perhaps because they know what their parents are thinking and saying, and report more sincerely than adults self report in polls?

And then I came home to a wonderful, entertaining, uplifting email from my best friend Bob, demonstrating again why he's my best friend.   And now I'm watching David Letterman on my TV, eating some delicious ramyeon with mystery vegetables (and chopped tomato and way too much chili paste added), and writing my blog.

It was suddenly a bit warmer today – maybe 15 C.  And raining earlier, and now foggy.  I'll go to my Korean class tomorrow.   I've actually begun to remember some bits of vocabulary, too.  Maybe there's hope for that impossible project (ie. actually learning this baroque, beautiful, convoluted language), too!

Caveat: Unfunness

Welcome to my world:  the unfunness.

Today, I asked for, and got, some critical feedback on my teaching.  Not really a positive review.  My own fault for asking, right?

Primary concern:  I am unfun.  Too serious….  I always have been too serious.  I was too serious as a child.  As a student.   And certainly, I am too serious as a teacher.  Still… I have trouble reconciling this with how much fun some of my classes can be, especially the younger kids, on the one hand, and the most highly motivated advanced classes, on the other.  But the criticism is certainly compelling in light of those recalcitrant T2's.

Secondary:  classroom management.  I don't really control my classrooms.  That's the uber-democratic hippy-quaker thing showing through.  I'm not a disciplinarian, at heart.  And I resist being urged to take more control… and have trouble reconciling the idea of being more "fun" on the one hand with being more controlling on the other, though I recognize, intellectually, that it's possible and even necessary with some groups.

Next:  I speak too fast.  I know this is true, and have no argument here – it's the hardest single thing to remember, as I teach – that I'm working with language learners, and even when they nod and pretend (quite convincingly) that they understand, they aren't necessarily getting much of what I'm saying.

Next:  I give the kids too many choices.  They're not supposed to have opinions about what they should be studying.  This is, again, my countercultural background showing through.  And is certainly even less popular a viewpoint, here in Korea, than it would be in the U.S., though even there it would be a less than universal approach.

No defense, no excuses.  I will keep trying to improve.

Some general observations, however.  I'm an introverted person – perhaps not best suited, in some ways, to being a school teacher.

But on the other hand, I am really pretty good at "teaching" – but only in the context of highly motivated learners.  I am not, at least constitutionally, a motivational speaker – not by any stretch of the imagination.  Thus, I do fine interacting with those who bring a desire to learn to the classroom, regardless of their level of innate intelligence or degree of preparation.  But, when it comes to the motivationally challenged, I am clueless and incapable of pulling them along.  Perhaps this is because that's my own internal demon?  Not sure….

Caveat: Worstest

We're in the new school location.  Things a bit chaotic today.  Most classes went fine, despite feeling a bit unprepared for them because of the chaos of the move.  The one class I went out of my way to prepare for, however…. 

Worster than Friday.  They patently refused to do anything.  Perhaps part of my problem is that the disciplinary "chain of command" here isn't really clear.  What is it I'm supposed to do, when an entire class refuses to do anything?  The administrators are busy people, especially with the move – and they both carry teaching loads as well.  It's not like this is a regular public school, where grades are submitted and meaningful – it's all about preparing students for exams and / or interviews, etc., for their careers as "foreign school" students.  So I can't threaten anyone with flunking out, either.  Oh, what a mess. 

This "T2" cohort and I have been circling each other like sumo wrestlers for several weeks now, and last Friday I thought it was going to end.  But, I think today was the collision.  Argh. 

No solutions.  And I know I'm not a lousy teacher, intellectually – my other classes go well, are fun, but sufficiently imperfect to leave me assured I do know how to handle problems when they arise….  But, it sure is hard on one's ego to be so patently rejected by a group one is supposed to be supervising and helping.

Caveat: The best and the worst

I had one of my worst classes so far today.  And one of my best.  I guess that's good… lots of variety in a day.  Kind of a roller coaster.

One class, I nearly gave up and just walked out.  I had nothing left to say to them, no way to get through.  They chat and write notes and do work for other classes, and if I tell them to stop, they stop, but then they sulk and pretend to understand not a single thing I say.  Reminding me of something  I heard recently about the Buddhist monks in Burma, who as a way of protesting don't exactly go on strike, they just become obdurate and uncooperative and generally opaque to the authorities.  Call it an attitude strike.

Then another class they were interested, engaged, asking creative questions, getting excited about learning and the possibilities of knowledge and all that.

Why such differences?  I don't know.

The school is moving this weekend – to a new building a few buildings down from our current one.  I don't have to be there for this, but I'm looking forward to vast amounts of confusion and distraction when I come in on Monday.  Meanwhile, I have hagwon tomorrow.

And at the moment I'm doing laundry and watching a Korean game show… I have no idea what's going on, but I find the Korean more interesting than the dialog in dramas or news shows (the other options) because there's a lot of mugging and impromptu and informal speech, which are the bits I most desperately need some skill in understanding.

So… more later.

Caveat: Strange Markings

pictureAlways the anthropologist, I find myself intrigued by the graffiti that the school’s students leave on desktops.  My Korean is much too poor, and my knowledge of Korean pop/youth culture too limited, to make sense of of what’s written, but I nevertheless wonder.  And occasionally I get paranoid and think, oh, they’re writing bad things about me.  Or one of the other teachers.  And maybe they are.  But mostly, I’m sure, it has nothing to do with anything but the tribal fascinations of youth, as expressed in graffiti anywhere.

Caveat: Gary’s Ghost

It's been two months since I replaced Gary at this school, and still students (not all, but more than a few) clearly miss him and leave me feeling dull and mediocre in comparison.  This is discouraging.  I am not the same sort of "funny," dynamic personality as he was, and although I have my strengths (e.g. my breadth of knowledge and experience, my linguistic training, and at least some pedagogical theory), these are not strengths typically appreciated by teenagers.   I learned only on the 3rd week here that I already had a nickname among some of the students, which was, roughly, "the professor."  This is almost eerie given that was also my nickname when I taught at Moorestown in 97-98.

Well.  So this whole "take on the teaching thing again" is not feeling like a good move, just at the moment.  What should I be doing different?  Being "the professor" is not all bad, but it may not be what Korean teenagers want or need.  That leaves me struggling to define and then fill a more appropriate role, but one which no doubt will come less naturally to me.

Caveat: Teaching

I really am glad to be teaching.  Do I sound like I'm trying to convince myself?  Maybe I'm at that stage where I'm asking myself, what have I gotten myself into?  Really, it's cool to be teaching again, but currently feeling a bit overwhelmed – I really do want to do a good job.

So Tuesday was Gary's last day – he is/was my predecessor.  Several of us teachers, along with Gary and the two directors/owners of the hagwon (academy) went out for food and drinks after work – since this is an afternoon academy, that means we were out from around 11 pm through 3 am.  But Korea is definitely a night-owl culture, and many bars and restaurants and such are open very late.  Social drinking is, of course, extremely pervasive, but I resisted the suggestions of soju (korean native vodka-type stuff) or beer and stuck with saida ("cider" = really this is 7-up or something like that).

But there's nothing like seeing your coworkers get drunk for getting to know them.  Ha.  So, Gary was the raison d'etre of the party, and life of the party too – the life of any party, such an expansive and energetic personality.  Grace is a korean-canadian, fully bilingual, and has been with the school since it's founding, 4-5 years ago.  Marly, a maori new zealander who's been around for about a year, and seems quite competent at teaching and is quite friendly.  Lastly, Danny and his wife Diane are the owners/founders of the academy, a korean couple who lived in south africa for some years.  So they're my "bosses."  I really think Gary was right, I've landed in a good spot -they seem very conscientious and dedicated to providing a quality product to their students.  I met an "alum" of the school Tuesday afternoon, who was visiting but was now enrolled at the University of Chicago – that speaks pretty well for the skills and competency imbued, given the high standards and reputation of that school.

So we stayed out till about 3 am, but since work starts at 2 pm, this is not really a problem.  I feel for the students, who essentially go to school from 7 am to 11 pm (with food breaks, I guess) – public school in the morning, hagwon in the afternoon.  And this practice is universal.  No wonder Korea kicks U.S. ass in educational statistics, right? 

Yesterday Danny and I drove to an immigration office, where I had to surrender my passport in order to get an "alien card" -  I've always wanted to have my alienation confirmed bureaucratically.  I feel naked without the passport, but I have a little piece of paper that I use as an ID, meanwhile, and I should get the card in 2 weeks, and this will allow me to do things like get my own cell phone, bank account, DSL connection, etc – all the accouterments of modern life.

I am, by far, the "old man" here, but I felt comfortable with these people and I'm feeling optimistic.

I have approximately 13 classes, most of which meet twice a week and several meet three times a week.  I'll tell more about my schedule and students later, as I get to know things – for now I'm just going to go "by the book" and follow Gary's lead (to the extent I can make sense of his notes – heh) and Danny and Diane's curricula. 

Given the quantities of free food on offer at work, and the fact that my rent is paid for, I can already tell that I'm going to be hard put to spend my earnings here – but that's good, I guess.

One piece of disappointing news:  my vacation schedule is such that I probably won't be able to take any long excursions out of Korea – the 2 weeks are distributed across the calendar and there's not a lot of flexibility.  So I guess people will have to come visit me, instead.  I will have weekends free, regardless, and South Korea is small enough that you can see most any part of it in a weekend.    But the slow boat to China, traipsing off to Darwin and points south, and other adventures will have to wait, it seems.

Caveat: A tough act to follow

Location:  Ilsan-gu

Soundtrack:  crickets, and morning city noise

The teacher whom I'm replacing is named Gary.  He's a very energetic, dynamic guy from Yorkshire.  I get to spend the next two days watching and working with him before he leaves, so there's an overlap to provide some transition for the students and for me.  There are two cohorts of students – a Monday/Wednesday/Friday group and a Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday group, each subdivided into classes based on age and relative mastery of English – so two days of overlap provides at least one day of time with both teachers for each of the classes I'll be doing.

Abilities range from lower level "elementary" students to quite advanced "middle school" students.  I put the quotes as I think the terms aren't quite applicable as we would conceive them in the U.S. – the "elementary" are what I would think of a "middle school" – age 10 to 13 roughly, while "middle school" are more like high schoolers – age 13-16.  The oldest student is 17 I think.  The whole thing is compounded by the fact that Koreans are all 1 year "older," because they count the day of one's birth as the "first" birthday, and when they report their age to you, you never know whether they're subtracting that extra year because they know that we calculate from zero, or if they've forgotten and are doing a straight translation.

The advanced students are quite advanced – perfectly capable of having complex conversations on just about any topic, and toward the end of the evening Gary and I found ourselves enmeshed in a "discussion" (with the "T2" group) of Edgar Allan Poe's "Annabel Lee" that would do a group of American college freshmen credit.   I put "discussion" in quotes as the whole classroom structure is, nevertheless, much more teacher-centered than I'm used to from the states – more "question and answer" than discussion.  And no doubt some of this I'll just have to adapt to, but other aspects I may begin to try to change as I get settled into the academy.

Gary and I walked down to a Dunkin Donuts (yes, they have those) on break and got some coffee.  He told me I had been very lucky, as I had landed in the best hagwon ("after-school academy") in Ilsan (and there are apparently 100's, many of which he's taught in over the last 6 years.  6 years!  Anyway, of course I asked "so why are you leaving?" and he explained that he and his wife are moving to southern Seoul (she's soon having a baby) and that the commute out to Ilsan would just be too much.  It's pretty clear that he's on great terms with the other staff members of the school and he said Danny (the director) is quite professional.

Most notably (in my opinion) he's on amazing terms with the students.  After we finished that last class of the evening we walked out into the hall and all the more advanced students were lining the hall to say "goodbye."  Many of them had cut out fat "tear drops" of blue paper and glued them to their cheeks ("see, we're crying because you're leaving" they explained), and they presented Gary with these large posters which everyone had signed with little paragraphs or anecdotes written with them, sort of the way kids sign yearbooks for each other in the U.S.  None of the staff were aware the students had prepared this "farewell party" for Gary.  I was touched and impressed by their degree of devotion to this guy.

He will be a tough act to follow.

urimbobo

The picture above shows my building, Urim Bobo County I.   Within blocks there is a McDonalds, a Burger King across the street from the McDonalds, a Starbucks, a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf franchise across the street from the Starbucks, a Homever (this is, roughly, a Carrefour store – and Carrefour is just French for Wal-Mart).  All amazingly high density.  But so far, I haven't even eaten in a restaurant (at 3 days, probably already some kind of record for me, at least when being abroad) – I've bought food (yogurt, ramyeon, fruit) and eaten in my little apartment, and there's also apparently a lot of free food flying around the school, too – last night I had some cold Bibimbap for dinner (my favorite Korean staple).  I have gone to the Homever store to get some houseold supplies and to be able to shop for food without overstretching my almost non-existent vocabulary.

Ok, well… day 3 begins now.  More later.

Caveat: Chupe de pescado [Korn – Evolution]

Location: Newport Beach, CA

Soundtrack: 

KLoVE (Spanish soft rock station in LA: más romántica);

KoRn’s new single _Evolution_

[I retroactively added this embedded video on 2011-06-24 as part of my Background Noise project]

I spent the morning in Burbank again, catching up with a few people (Vesper, Diana, Luz…) who I didn’t manage to see yesterday.  Then I drove all the way down to Newport to have lunch with Tyler (colleague from HealthSmart) at my favorite Peruvian restaurant, Inka Grill just across the line in Costa Mesa.  I love their Chupe de pescado, it’s possibly the most delicious soup in the known universe, in my opinion:  potatoes, egg, onion, fish, spices, something that makes it chowdery – I ate here often with Tyler and the rest of the HealthSmart crew during those long months now memorialized as the “battle of Lytec” (which we lost spectacularly to the enemy forces, which fought under the banner “poor project scoping and planning”). 

We went back to the Newport Beach offices and I chatted briefly with some of the other folks there, and I had weird flashbacks of T-SQL code as I walked the aisles between the cubicles.  Too many very late nights practicing slash-and-burn database programming,  I guess.  Visiting ARAMARK was better for my sense of accomplishment, and it stoked my ego to see the accomplishments of my era still percolating on the screens of the National Account Reps, but visiting HealthSmart’s IPM offices has served to remind me why I’ve decided to change careers and try something different:  more people-oriented, perhaps less remunerative, but hopefully more spiritually fulfilling.  Not that I’m particularly spiritual person, as many of you know, but I don’t know how else to express the idea I’m trying to get across.

Why do I listen to Spanish soft, romantic rock, when I abhor the same genre in English? It’s a nostalgia thing, I think.  It was the soundtrack of too many hole-in-the-wall restaurants in Mexico, too many 2nd class bus rides.  Not the same songs, 20 years ago, but the genre is full of songs that, 20 years on, can’t be differentiated from those older ones… it’s all a sort of weird slightly enchilada-flavored aural blur.

The smog in downtown LA was atrocious, driving down, I couldn’t even see downtown from the 5 as I went by  – much worse than anything we saw in Mexico City last week.  But this is smog season in Lalatopia, while this is precisely NOT smog season in Chilangolandia at the moment – which is why we went at this time, of course.  Which is why I always go to Mexico DF at this time of year. 

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Caveat: “There is great chaos under heaven, and the situation is excellent”

Location: Los Angeles

Soundtrack: my brother playing L7 and Echoboy on his turntable – good stuff

The quote above is from Mao Tse-tung. Many years ago (maybe 5? 6?) I had placed that quote on the home page (splash page) of my National Account Data Analysis intranet website that I built at ARAMARK (the application affectionately known as Reportomatic). At the time, it seemed very apropos to the IT/database situation there, but I’ve always assumed that the Reportomatic would eventually be upgraded or replaced. 

NadapageAt right is a screenshot of the page under discussion (click image to see larger).

Yet, yesterday morning I went to visit with old friends there: Joanne, Judy, Paul, Tom, Carol, and all the rest, and Joanne showed me that it was still there, exactly the same, all these years later. I was so pleased to have left such an ambiguous legacy!

Not surprising, perhaps, that things have changed so little there, but I still reflect that that company still seems so much more forward-looking and IT savvy than my more recent job, which was a sort of permanent IT disaster-in-progress.

Anyway, Paul and I went out to lunch in Burbank, and had some pretty good sushi at a place called Kabuki. Paul is the most brilliant database administrator I know, and I was surprised to learn he was still with ARAMARK at first, until I learned he’s a new father – this explains a great deal, as suddenly one’s need for stability and reliability in a job becomes more important than one’s frustration with the job’s nature, I suppose. I can sympathize if not quite relate. Anyway, he’s always great to talk with, and parenthood seems to agree with him.

My brother has the most amazing music collection – all kinds of ripped/burned CDs and tons of stuff on vinyl. He’s going through and playing stuff and it makes for a nice sound track.

Caveat: Gainful Employment

So, I'm hesitant to announce this widely, for fear of jinxing the process – but I have been offered a one-year contract to teach at a school in Goyang-si in South Korea.  I still don't have the contract in hand, but it should be showing up via email any day now.

Interestingly, Goyang is an exurb northwest of Seoul, along the same commuter rail route and trunk road I used to take between my Army posting (near Munsan) and Seoul – so I actually carry a fairly vivid picture of the town (as seen from a slow-moving train) in my head. The school is exciting – it does not just offer EFL (English as a Foreign Language) but instead offers its curriculum in English.  So I'll get to teach social studies, literature, even math or science to middle/high school students in English, much the way I turned my AP Spanish class at Moorestown, NJ, into a social studies and Latin American history class that just happened, coincidentally, to be taught in Spanish.

Meanwhile, my sister has consented to adopt my cat, Bernie. So, within hours, Bernie and I leave for Phoenix on a short highway odyssey.  Bernie actually turned out to be a very good traveler when we did the trip here to Minneapolis from LA last year, so I'm not terribly worried.  Once she spends an hour or so yowling over the changed circumstances she settles down on the dashboard and watches the world go by fairly contentedly.  Now that I own a camera, maybe I'll even take a picture of the experience.

More later.

Caveat: cat seeks home

Once again, it's been a long time.

On my run/walk around Lake Calhoun this morning, it was very windy, and there were swells of several feet on the tiny (1 mi. long) lake.  The sky was a wonderful cobalt overcast, but there was this hole that caused the morning sun to shine down like a searchlight from a police helicopter onto the lake.  The highlights on the frothy grey-turquoise water moved rapidly across the lake, quickly scanned the sailboats at the northeast end, and disappeared among the condos and trees of Uptown along Lake Street.

I've decided I'm leaving the country in August, to work or travel or whatever I can put together.  This year in Minneapolis has been good for me in some ways, but in others it has only underscored my yearning to travel again – not just tourist travel but *real* travel – i.e. "go to a country and live there for a year or two" travel.  I've applied for a job in Korea that would start in late August, and it seems fairly certain, but I've decided that even if that doesn't pan out, I'll be going *somewhere* by late August – I've given notice to my landlord, and rented a larger storage unit for all my books!

There is only one dilemma around bringing this plan to fruition – I need to find a home for my cat, Bernie.  I've created a myspace profile for her, with a little autobiographical info:  https://myspace.com/berniethecat.

Maybe I'll get around to posting more regularly, now that I've quit my position with HealthSmart of Long Beach (effective back in late March).  Not a good record, so far, but we'll see.

Caveat: angst

Everyone who knows me, knows that I struggle with focus. Not the narrow, task-centered, short-term focus associated with getting a piece of query code to work, or explicating a compelling bit of philosophy or literary criticism, or even with driving.  I'm pretty good at that, and on rare occasions even experience that thing I've heard called "flow" wherein I get pretty much inside the current moment, zenishly. 

 

No, the type of focus I struggle with is of that more existential, life-encompassing sort, that leads to a certain large-scale aimlessness.  Many people reference it with the phrase "I haven't figured out what I'm going to do yet, when I grow up."  Which becomes more ironic yet utterly serious with the increasing age of the person making the utterance.  Frankly, although I have always harbored a senseless dislike for the phrase itself, it really subsumes this focus problem of mine quite succinctly.  So there, I've uttered it – with a modicum of redirection, of course.

 

"I'm only on my fourth career, and I don't expect it to be my last."  This is a phrase I have taken to using quite a bit, lately, although it's probably just as sophomoric, ultimately, as the one just discussed above.  Let me try to make this more concrete:  I can envision myself doing so many things that I rarely envision the same future for myself from one hour to the next, much less from one day or week or month or year to the next. 

 

One minute, I'm dropping everything, moving to Lisbon and working on "my book."  (Not sure what book that would be – obviously figuring that out would be a good, though not indispensable, first step). 

 

Next minute, I'm going to business school full time, possibly in Europe, and then moving on to become some kind of high-powered IT manager.

 

An hour later, I'm traveling to Korea and finding a position as an English teacher.

 

Another time, I go to Tunisia, with a sincere commitment to become fluent in that beautiful language, Arabic.

 

I occasionally imagine sticking with my current job, gaining new skills in the area of programming, development, and database architecture.

 

These and many many others are all equally possible, even almost equally plausible.

 

Recently, I had another job interview.  This time, with a fairly high-powered "guru" of the software development world, for a position I really had almost zero qualifications for but some definite degree of interest.  Naturally, the context of a job interview forces one to spend a good deal of energy on working out plausible futures, which can be shared and conveyed to the person doing the interviewing.

 

And somehow in that self-selling moment, all the different possible futures – one specific instance of which is suddenly under a bruising, close, interactive scrutiny – become shockingly, painfully, embarrassingly and equally implausible, and I become stranded on my isle of bitter insecurity and pointless daydreaming.  It all seems drowningly futile, like one of those dreams you cannot wake up from.

 

For the briefest of moments, I experience one of those intractable gasps of aching nostalgia for that least aimless yet really most intentionally purposeless period of my entire life:  I yearn for the psychiatric ward. 

 

Because it was so explicitly, irredeemably FUTURELESS.  Which made it super-easy, from an existential standpoint.

 

Because the future is scary.

 

So I guess this is one of those flexion-points, where I might decide to step away from my current future, and toward another.  But a friend (a colleague) made an observation to me the evening before the interview – really, also, an observation OF me.  He pointed out (and somehow had figured this out despite missing major portions of my biography) that I was a serial quitter. 

 

And maybe I should get over that?

 

The hardest future to adopt, in other words, is the one currently coming at you.  Alternate futures are easier, perhaps.  Am I destined to always be a refugee in my own alternate futures, in exile from my own alternate pasts?

 

 

Caveat: meanwhile, a year later

So, like, I should start posting here again. 

Work's been rather unpleasantish.  Lots of stress, not much sense of reward, accomplishment, closure.   So I go into this withdrawel-from-life mode, and curse my fate.  Or something in that vein, anyway.

Tomorrow I'm going to Australia to visit my mother.  Not to where she lives in the northeastern extremities, this time, but rather meeting in Melbourne, thence to galivant around Victoria state, I guess, seeing new things.  She's got a friend in Apollo Bay (SW of Melbourne) which will be a starting point, I'm thinking.

I had put my resume out there, updated, online, a couple weeks back.  So I've been getting a lot of calls from recruiters.  Most intriguing was a nibble from a guy who wanted to forward my resume to Microsoft Corp.  Not likely to pan out, but one always wonders, "what might working for the locus of evil in software be like, exactly?"  I hear they have wicked good benefits.  Probably like what they say about hell – it's much better once you're on the inside. 

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