Getting Schooled in China

Lesson #6: The Teacher is the Student

I came to China for many reasons.  I came to travel and see a distant part of the world.  I came to get an inside glimpse into a very foreign culture.  I came to get another perspective on life, and to make sure that when I look back I won’t say “I regret not living somewhere else for a while.”  And of course, I came here to learn how to teach. 

Knowing that I want to get my Masters in teaching and become a high school teacher when I return, I was looking forward to getting some much needed teaching experience.  I was eager to figure out my classroom management style, and since I hope to teach ELL when I get back, teaching English to students here would really help me brush up on my grammar skills.  I just hoped I wouldn’t get stuck with all the youngest students; there would be little to no value that I could see for helping me achieve my future goals.

Some people grow up adoring small children; I grew up indifferent to them.  I think kids are cute, but have always had an underlying fear of them.  To me they are like wolves in sheep’s clothing.  They appear to be adorable, harmless little lambs, but in reality are dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.  Admittedly they wouldn’t harm you physically the way a wolf could, but they can wreak emotional disaster on a person in a matter of minutes.  The little monsters reel you in with their irresistible miniature features and pleading puppy eyes; but at any given moment they may turn into a horrifying pooping, screaming, squirming, snot-gooping inconsolable fiend.  Lock me up in a cold, deserted, condemned haunted mansion 50 miles away from the nearest sign of civilization in the middle of a vast cornfield in the middle of some backwards state in the middle of the U.S., have a different horror movie playing in every room for good measure, and I would probably be more comfortable than I would be teaching a class full of little toddlers that I know full well to actually be mini-monsters in disguise.  I’ve concluded that China has a queer sense of humor.  Not being satisfied with throwing a dirty, stinky pile of culture shock in my face it apparently thought it would be amusing to toss me into the pit filled with these puny people and see what would become of me.   

At Aston there are three full time foreign teachers: my two roommates Oly and George, and me.  Oly taught six months at a different Aston branch before coming here, so they gave him the highest levels.  When they gave me my schedule they said they gave me the lowest levels and youngest kids because of my lack in previous teaching experience.  Both George and I have never taught before.  Clearly being a woman did NOT play to my favor in this instance.  It appeared my nightmare of being around snot monsters was turning into a reality, and what I envisioned would be my ultimate Adventure Epic was to be transformed into a Horror Story.   

In the beginning God said “let there be light.”  As I started my first week of teaching that’s exactly what I begged heaven for as well.  My TESOL classes prepared me for teaching students about grammar and English conversation, but we never delved into babysitting and how to entertain small children that have had zero exposure to the English language.   I learned quickly which games were effective and which were not.  I had to adjust to the idea that Friday and Saturday nights would be devoted to lesson planning and heavy duty sleeping.  I had to try not to take it personally when the youngest students would cry when they saw me, or when the older ones would roll their eyes and ask “is finished now?”  I had to adapt myself to teaching promotional classes in the Primary schools where the classrooms typically have 50-70 very energetic students.  And I had to keep telling myself over and over again that this was fun and that things were getting better.  And somewhere along the line, those phrases became true.  Without knowing how or exactly when, I crossed an invisible barrier and tears were replaced with smiles, some students run to hug me when I entered the room, and upon my leaving others would say emphatically, “thank you, good bye, see you later, thank you!”  Though I didn’t see the value in teaching youngsters before, I have since taken the blinders off that I was wearing and can see the entire picture now.    

One of the first things you learn about China is that nothing is as you expect.  I did not expect that I would have little to no time to travel.  I did not expect to have only two days off instead of the three that were stipulated in my contract, but that was my idiotic decision to comply with that revision.  I did not expect to teach seven different classes on Saturday, only to get up the next morning and teach twelve classes on Sunday.  I did not expect to be teaching children so young they can barely walk.  Had Fate visited me one day and given me a quick glimpse into this part of my future, I probably never would have come here.  And I would have missed out on one of the greatest experiences of a lifetime, and I would never have learned many of the lessons that I am still only just beginning to understand. 

You can read Confucius sayings and Proverbs all day long and be a better person for it if you can apply them to your life.  But the lessons that stick with you are ones you learn through experience, and wisdom that these proverbs try to impart on readers is much more poignant when you are living through examples of them.  Or, in the words of the master philosopher himself, “I hear and I forget.  I see and I remember.  I do and I understand.”

Summary: You may come here for a specific purpose, but often Fate has her own purpose for you.  You will come here to teach, but will end up learning far more about yourself, about others, about the ways of the world than you ever would have expected.  Your opinions about things will change.  Your patience will be tried and your emotional stamina will be tested; you will become a better person for every small victory you win in these battles.