Schadenfreude (and the World Cup)

I haven't written much about the World Cup -- nothing since the time my entire school gathered in the auditorium to watch Korea vs. Russia -- and this is because I'm not really following the games. Facebook and a few blogs I follow have kept me in the loop enough to satisfy my curiosity. This morning, though, when my news feed exploded with status updates and funny pictures related to the Brazil vs. Germany game, I thought it would be worth checking out in more detail.

That's how I found out that the gods of international soccer, Brazil, sustained a record-breaking, mind-blowing 7-1 loss to Germany in the semi-final match. This game was on their home turf, and there were tens of thousands of fans present, hundreds of thousands more watching on television, as the team failed spectacularly again and again and again.

Photos of Brazil's soccer team looking agonized and desolate, as well as photos of angry, crying, screaming fans have gone viral. In a moment of inspiration, I made a last-minute addition to my afternoon lesson and taught my third years about schadenfreude.

"It's a German word," I said, "so it's appropriate that we are learning it today."

I looked up the Korean definition; there's no translation, just an explanation. "남의 불행에 대해 갖는 쾌감": "pleasure derived from other people's misfortune."

HS was very pleased to learn this. He said that he experiences schadenfreude quite often. We then took a break to watch some "epic fail" videos.

The actual point of bringing up the World Cup game was to remind the students how to correctly talk about winning and losing. It's kind of complex in English (why "A lost to B" but not "B won to A"?), and then there's all the slang we use to refer to victory and defeat. "What happened at the World Cup today?" I asked my students. Their using-what-they'd-just-learned-replies:

"Germany kicked Brazil's butt."

"Germany schooled Brazil."

"Brazil blew it."

"Germany steamrollered Brazil."

"Germany owned Brazil."

"Brazil was a hot mess."

"Brazil got creamed."

"Germany won."

And because we all had a good laugh at this, well... schadenfreude!

This is me capitalizing on a trending topic and in-group humor to gain approval on social media. Also, I wanted to show the link to the Avenue Q song without actually linking to it, because it is rather inappropriate! I did not play it for my students. But we did listen to Sam Smith, Pentatonix, The Piano Guys, and Sam Tsui as part of a lesson on music!

P.S. I also learned a bit of Korean from discussing the game with other teachers at my school. To lose is 지다 (jida), but to lose humiliatingly, as Brazil did, is 깨지다 (ggaejida), which can also mean to break or shatter. 실패하다 (silpaehada) means to fail, but it was explained that this is a failure of something you prepared for, such as an exam. The other two verbs are for failing in a competition. And the Korean equivalent of "Brazil was crushed by Germany"? 브라질이 독일한테 떡 됬다. Brazil became rice cake against Germany. Why rice cake? Beacuse this is how it's made:

Outdoor Class

This is educational, I promise.

Ah, after a rainy weekend, we've finally hit some legitimate summer weather. I can actually feel the humidity in the air, and at night, I can walk around in a t-shirt and shorts. It won't be long before we start turning on the fans at my taekgyeon dojang. The change is welcome, although spring didn't seem quite long enough.

A pity that I can't take advantage of these fine sunny days to hold classes outdoors again! I did it once this semester, back in April. I took my third years outside to play some fun games that required communciation skills (in English, of course), including the always-successful Human Knot (above) and group charades (below). They really enjoyed the class, but we're nearing the end of the semester, and it's time to prepare for speech tests, so I can't do it again anytime soon. I've got all 180 of my students writing drafts of their speeches this week and next. This means I won't be able to enjoy a spare minute outside, either, as I'll be inside at my desk correcting a thousand grammar and spelling mistakes from now until mid-June.

But I'll keep these hliarious snapshots in mind, because as soon as the tests are over, it'll be time to have fun -- as much of it as possible before I leave.

I think they were supposed to make a tree?

To Remove a Fatal Complex

All I remember is that I had an unnaturally vivid dream whose contents now escape me and that I woke up from this dream thinking that, as my alarm hadn't yet sounded, I probably had a good ten more minutes to sleep. So I went back to sleep.

And then my phone rang. It was my co-teacher. It was 8:43. I had a first period class at 8:50. I swore.

Not really understanding how I had managed to sleep through both of my alarms, I jumped out of bed, threw on the first clothes I found in the closet, considered asking my co-teacher to cover for me, then just bit the bullet and ran out the door. Fortunately, I live about a five minutes' walk away from school. When I'm running, make that two minutes. I got to my office at 8:49am this morning and went straight to class, disheveled and slightly out of breath. My hope is that my students were too sleepy to notice...

That's the second time something like this has happened, and I really hope it's the last.

- - -

Anyway, I wanted to talk about how wonderful my students are. Chatting with them during mealtimes always makes my day. I make it a point to eat dinner with my students at least twice a week, and some of them have taken note of this apparently odd behavior. Typical foreign English teachers don't eat with the students, I've been told. But I believe that bonding over meals is one of the best way to build up a relationship, so I don't mind the stares or awkward silences.

I usually try to time it so that I arrive at the cafeteria at the same time as the third-year students, since I've known them the longest and enjoy talking with them. But sometimes I'll just pick a table at random and walk up with a cheerful, "Hi! May I sit with you?" I don't really wait for an answer, though. The poor students have no choice but to stop gossiping in Korean and start answering my questions in English. "How was your weekend?" "Can you explain what's happening on the cafeteria TV right now?" "What exactly are we eating, anyway?" Although I make it sound like they're the victims of my heinous schemes, actually, I believe it's a positive influence. First-year students in particular are always impressed, first with me for being so bold as to sit with them, and then with themselves when they realize that, yes, they are capable of holding a conversation with a native English speaker and it's not as painful as they'd imagined!

And I love it when students ask me questions, too: simple ones such as what my favorite Korean food is or if I enjoy K-pop, or more complex questions like why I have a Korean name on Facebook (which led to a great conversation about the meanings of names). Today, a student was eagerly telling me about a great movie he'd watched called Final Fantasy, about a group of teenagers on a plane who learn that they are going to crash... I finally realized that he was talking about Final Destination, and we had a good laugh.

I was taken aback and actually touched one evening, when two of my second-years actually left their table to join me and some shy underclassmen girls. They were simply eager to talk to me about my class: JH wanted to study more Greek and Latin roots, and WJ thanked me for giving them the opportunity to write in class journals, but wanted more time to do it. I was absolutely thrilled. The underclassmen were absolutely bewildered.

Later, the conversation turned to a favorite topic of high school girls: beauty. It started when WJ remarked that I looked better without glasses. (I was wearing contact lenses that day.) I told her I'd considered getting corrective eye surgery in Korea, and from there we began discussing cosmetic surgery. WJ said that she didn't want to get plastic surgery, but the societal pressure was really intense. Any girl who doesn't want double eyelids is mercilessly asked just why she doesn't want to undergo a harmless, painless, beautifying procedure. JH, on the other hand, was 100% sure that she wanted to get plastic surgery, perhaps as soon as she graduated from high school.

"I look in the mirror every day, and... I can't look at myself," she said jokingly, covering her face in her hands. JY, who had just joined us, jumped right in to what she perceived was a typical roundtable roasting session. "Yes, yes, you're ugly!" she said ro JH, completely deadpan.

I tried to tell JH that she looked just fine the way she was, that all of them were naturally beautiful and didn't need plastic surgery, but JH's mind wasn't going to be changed in an instant. So, I told them a story about how one of my favorite students from my first semester as a teacher (way back in the fall of 2012) wrote a stellar essay on beauty standards. WJ was bright and daring, and she had chosen the prompt: "Should movie stars and people who appear on TV have to get plastic surgery?"

In her essay, WJ wrote that when she was younger, she'd lamented her physical appearance. However, when she realized that her role models were people like Steve Jobs and Oprah Winfrey who became successful without any help from their looks, she changed her mind about the importance of beauty in her life. But here's the clincher: she also wrote, "If somebody does want plastic surgery, then they should get it in order to remove their fatal complex." BOOM. A young feminist Beyonce in the making, I swear.

Well, and then WJ went and got her eyelids doubled, just like most of the other girls in her year when they graduated and went off to college. I didn't leave out that part of the story, and JH and WJ had a laugh at the slight irony. Nevertheless, I don't want this to be the end of us discussing standards of beauty. I'm trying to find room in my curriculum this semester for a lesson on this topic for my second-years. I mean, my students have nicknames like Monkey, Egg, and Rice Grain, because these somehow capture the essence of their achievements and personalities in a friendly, pithy moniker. No, I'm totally kidding; they call her Egg because her face is shaped like one, and she doesn't even mind. I really want to get my students talking about this.

Beauty is not the easiest topic to bring up in a South Korean classroom, especially if you're a foreigner with a wildly different perspective. My friend Julia was interviewed in a piece by This American Life last year, where she shared a lesson she did with her high school girls and compared beauty standards in Korea and the US. For the sake of her students' understanding, she boiled it down to: physical appearance seems surprisingly important in Korea, but you know what? It's not like that everywhere. Also, you are all beautiful.

I enjoyed hearing about her experience and listening to the clips from her class. There was some criticism about her decision to present American beauty standards in similarly black-and-white terms, but I admire Julia's intent to approach the topic objectively and with enthusiasm. I'm going to take a look at the lesson I did last year and see what I should alter or update for this year.

Oh hey, looks like I drifted way out into tangential waters again, didn't I? The product of a wandering mind on a late night. Time for bed. And I'll have to make sure I don't sleep through my alarm again!

Reflect, don't expect

Expectations are resentments waiting to happen.
- Macklemore, Vipassana

When it comes to completely new experiences, my general rule of thumb is to go in with no expectations. That way, I can never be disappointed or surprised. However, when something is expected of me, I can't assume the same for the opposite party, and I'm sure not going to allow myself to disappoint or surprise anyone.

In this case, the expectation was that I would begin a semester of volunteering with the Changwon Hana Center by teaching a weekly after-school English class to a small group of North Korean defector children. I was given very little additional information: there would be six students of low English ability, and I would be given a classroom of my own.

That's what I had to work with when coming up with a first-day lesson plan. I took a quick look at ways to teach phonics and basic reading. I assumed that the students would be some of the adorable children I'd met at the opening ceremony a few weeks ago, and to be honest, I was excited at the prospect of seeing them again.

Well, there you go: that was an expectation, and it was quickly shattered. First, the students' carpool was nearly forty-five minutes late in getting to the center. Even though I arrived just past five, I still had a long time to get my bearings in the classroom, obtain some supplies, and think things through, because of another twist: the students were to be mostly middle schoolers, the Hana Center employee told me, and they already knew their alphabet. I went through my brain, trying to remember the faces of the middle school-aged children I'd met, but none came up. And when the students finally arrived, I realized that none of them had been at the opening ceremony, so they were all new to me.

I wasn't expecting that.

As it turns out, I had five students come today, and they are in five different grade levels, from third-year in middle school to first grade in elementary school. The youngest two could not read, and the eldest was a model student. The middle two had rudimentary reading skills but definitely did not evince any enthusiasm for being there. It was nearly 6pm when we began, and for an hour they kept telling me in Korean that they were hungry. So, the Hana Center employee brought a tray of convenience store cookies and soda along with the pens and markers I requested.

I wasn't expecting that.

Obviously, I knew (or expected) that the class would be different from my usual high-achieving angels at CSHS, but the realization that I would have to deal with 1) tweens 2) on a sugar rush 3) taking photos of me with their smartphones 4) or staring blankly at the board because they couldn't read anything I'd written 5) and actually teach them all something useful was...

Well, I was determined not to disappoint.

We went over self-introductions and I did some flashcard activities to gauge their reading and speaking levels. Though there was mild chaos in the beginning, eventually my students realized that there was value in what they were doing and focused for a good ten minutes. We ended with a free-for-all game of Pictionary, during which they were clearly more engaged. (Note to self: gamification)

And when class was over, the students had gone home, and I did a teaching reflection, I realized that these North Korean teenagers seemed no different whatsoever from your typical South Korean teenagers. Phones, fried chicken, fighting, fretting about boyfriends (the older students were all girls). I was only reminded of the reality twice: the eldest girl would burst out in Mandarin from time to time, but then quickly correct herself and repeat what she had wanted to say in Korean. (Speaking of which, none of them had any difficulties with speaking Korean.)

The second was when a student asked me, "Teacher, how [long] you come here?" I quickly taught the class how to ask, "How long have you been in Korea?" and told them that I'd been here for two years. The students crowed and one-upped me: "I have been in Korea for four years!" said the seventeen-year old. "Two and a half years," said her friend. "Five," whispered the quiet fourteen-year old in the back.

I had been advised against asking too many personal questions to my North Korean defector students, which is why I had left out "Where are you from?" from my list of introductory questions. But the eldest student had no qualms about sharing where she had lived before coming to South Korea four years ago. "I'm from China!" she said proudly.

I wasn't expecting that.

In conclusion, it's a good thing I only planned one lesson (and ended up deviating far from it anyway), because it would have been a colossal waste of time to work out an entire curriculum that would be useless for half the class. I had one hour to familiarize myself with my students and now have one week to tailor lesson two to their varying levels. Although I was flying by the seat of my pants today, next week should be smoother and much more fun, and I'm looking forward to it.

(Or is that another expectation?)

성 패트릭의 날 - Saint Patrick's Day

The following short biography of St. Patrick is from the Book of Common Prayer.

Patrick of Ireland (389 – 461)

At the age of sixteen, Patrick was kidnapped from his home by Irish marauders and taken to Ireland, where he was sold as a slave to a chieftain and forced to herd livestock. After six years of slavery, Patrick escaped to his native Britain. Because he believed that his captivity and deliverance were ordained by God, Patrick devoted his life to ministry. While studying for the priesthood, he experienced recurring dreams in which he heard voices say, “O holy youth, come back to Erin and walk once more amongst us.” He convinced his superiors to let him return to Ireland in 432, not to seek revenge for injustice but to seek reconciliation and to spread his faith. Over the next thirty years, Patrick established churches and monastic communities across Ireland. When he was not engaged in the work of spreading the Christian faith, Patrick spent his time praying in his favorite places of solitude and retreat.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day! Unsurprisingly, absolutely no one in my school knew about the holiday. The extent of my students' knowledge of Ireland (아일랜드) ends at its location on the world map at the back of my classroom: "next to United Kingdom." I came to school with my green shirt, green cardigan, green bow tie, and green corduroys and began each period with a "top of the marnin' to ya, class!" in my barely-passable Irish accent. My students said, "Teacher, what language is that?"

No green to be seen! It's not a common color for my students to wear. My co-teacher happened to be wearing a lovely green ensemble, but it turns out she had picked the color because it was a nice spring day (China's yellow dust notwithstanding). Our cafeteria did not serve any green food (and it wasn't even the absence of food coloring; I realized that our school lunches don't do green vegetables very well. They're always either canned, pickled, or drenched in some mayo-based sauce...)

Having expected this lack of spirit, I'd taken on the task of introducing a bit of Irish(-American) culture to my school by hastily repurposing the tail end of my lesson on pipe dreams to talk about Saint Patrick's Day. Fun activities included hiding little paper clovers all around the classroom to have students search high and low for the single four-leafed one (네잎 클로버) and watching some Irish step dance! My students now know that people drink 13 million pints of Guinness (기네스) on Saint Patrick's Day and that the Chicago River is turned an impossible shade of green.

The funny thing is that I've rarely celebrated Saint Patrick's Day myself. The Irish-American community in the States is very large (nearly 12% of the population), but in northern California, I was surrounded by Asians. Saint Patrick's Day for me was just a fun day to wear green to school, drink green milk, and pinch my friends; it never meant anything more. Yet here in Korea I feel a sort of duty to share what little I know with my school community, since I -- who have had nothing whatsoever to do with Irish culture -- represent America to them. Odd, isn't it? Hopefully today's mini cultural lesson will pique a student's interest and they'll want to find out more about the rich history and heritage of Ireland.

Have a safe and happy holiday!

귀찮다 and 미루다

I learned a pair of interesting new vocabulary the other day. This week is midterms week at my school, so I have exactly zero classes to teach, as well as eight hours a day that I can spend lesson planning. Am I lesson planning? Heh. No. I'm playing Scrabble on Facebook, reading a book (currently, The Princess Bride), or scouring my reader for blog and news updates. This doesn't mean I'm not being productive, though! Because, as I've already said, I learned a pair of interesting new vocabulary.

One of the blogs I follow is TalktomeinKorean.com, which I highly recommend as an excellent resource to learn Korean for language learners of almost any level. And on this blog, I came across the word 귀차니스트 (kwichan-iste).

Unable to find it in a dictionary (I usually use Naver), I asked my co-teacher what it meant. I received a laugh in reply. My co-teacher said it was difficult to translate, but generally, a 귀차니스트 is a person who isn't willing to do anything, even important things, due to a lack of interest or motivation. A slacker. A deadbeat. A teacher who is on Facebook instead of creating his next nifty PowerPoint presentation.

Heh. Oh, how fitting.

The word itself is a linguistic oddball, a kind-of portmanteau of 귀찮다 (kwichanta) and the Latin suffix -ist to denote a person. 귀찮다 means "troublesome, bothersome" or, when used without context, something along the lines of "I don't care to do it". It's said frivolously, like "만사가 귀찮다" ("I can't be bothered to do anything.").

You can also use this verb with a direct object: "나는 그녀를 귀찮다." ("I'm tired of her.") or "학생들을 귀찮다" ("I'm so done with my students.") Hopefully, I'll never find myself saying this latter sentence, but it's a legitimate example my co-teacher gave!

More often, it seems, the verb is used as a modifier (adjective or adverb): 귀찮은 일 (kwichaneun il) is troublesome work, and 귀찮은 존재 (kwichaneun jonjae) is an annoying person. Most importantly, there's "귀찮게 하지 마라!" (kwichanke hajimala!) "Leave me alone!"

So, I've been a bit of a 귀차니스트 this week, since without my regular routine of classes, I've succumbed to the doldrums of procrastination (미루다/miluda). I mean, I've nearly finished my book, and I've written a couple of substantial blog posts lately, but I haven't finished a single lesson plan. And the week has flown by. Already it's Thursday tomorrow, and my goal is to pump out seven lesson plans by Friday. So let's go, 화이팅! No more 귀차니즘 from this 귀차니스트.

Beauty

So I taught a lesson on beauty.

I was nervous as I planned it, because even though I was using resources shared by other Fulbrighters -- which meant that I didn't have to create this lesson entirely from scratch -- I felt like I wasn't adequately prepared. A lot of "beauty lessons" that are passed around in native English teacher circles have similar themes: beauty is only skin deep, beauty is cultural, everyone is beautiful in their own way, etc. It is certainly more of a "moral" lesson than a grammar-based one.

The reason I felt unprepared was that I had a hard time deciding what my own lesson plan should focus on. I had the material to compare traditional standards of beauty in different countries around the world, show what the media and Photoshop can do to change our perceptions of beauty, and teach an American idiom or two. I also had photos, fables, videos, statistics, and various classroom activities at my disposal. It was too much to cover in one hour, so I had to pick and choose. And thus I had to think critically about what message I wanted to send to my students.

I decided in the end to focus on just two things: what is considered beautiful differs in many countries and cultures, and the way we perceive beauty is heavily influenced by the media. I hope that these are objective ideas. What I wanted to avoid was moralizing or preachiness, as well as too much sentimentality. 75% of my students are teenage boys; I felt like it would be difficult to reach them on an emotional level.

Furthermore, because I also wanted to know what their thoughts were, I gave them a (admittedly very boring) worksheet to fill out as we went through the lesson. (To be honest, it was also partly because I've been getting annoyed with my students for not bringing a notebook to class regularly; this way, they have to write something. And then I can read it.)

So here are some of the questions I asked, along with some selected answers. Most students didn't finish their worksheets, for various reasons. But almost everyone had at least one interesting answer. The most clever, cute, or thought-provoking I've compiled here, errors intact.

A Korean man/woman/person is beautiful if...
Male student: they have small face and length over 180cm; best of all, they look like American.
M: they are slim and they have a plastic surgery and they seem like [student's name].
M: A Korean woman is beautiful if her face is pretty and she is kind.
M: they have V-line on their face.

Female student: A Korean woman is beautiful if she is skinny.
F: A Korean man is beautiful if he is tall and has thin body and looks like woman.
F: A Korean man is beautiful if he gets plastic surgery.

Beauty is different in every culture. Do you agree or disagree? Why?
M: I agree. Beauty is decided by culture, and culture 영향을 받다 [is influenced by] environment.
M: I agree because everyone thinks differently, especially people from different cultures.
M: No, I don't agree. These days, Thanks to TV, Internet, SNS... what people want in beauty is very similar.

Where do we get our ideas of beauty?
M: we get our ideas of beauty from friends or TV or Internet. But In my case. I get ideas of beauty from my heart.

A beautiful Korean person might not be considered beautiful in another country. Do you agree or disagree? Can you give an example?
M: disagree. Korean persons are most beautiful in the world.
M: I disagree. For example, 한지민 is a beautiful Korean actres. She is always beautiful and sunshine anywhere.
M: dis, worldwide human love kpop and korean idoles.

A person who is considered ugly in Korea might be beautiful in another country. Do you agree or disagree? Can you give an example?
F: agree because they may think ugly Korean women seems true oriental.
M: Agree. Hyoyeon in Girl's generation is most ugly in GG by Korean people said. But in the other country people said Hyoyeon is beautiful.
M: No. Ugly is Ugly.
M: PSY

You are beautiful even if you do not look like a Korean celebrity. Do you agree or disagree?
M: agree. If someone tell me handsome. I'm handsome. If someone tell me not handsome, I'm not hansome. So, I can't judge it.
M: I disagree, because I'm not beautiful.

You are beautiful even if you are fat, or have freckles or an unusual haircut, or have single eyelids or double eyelids. Do you agree or disagree? Why?
M: I think they are beautiful if they are attractive enough to cover these proplems.
M: I agree because real beauty is not a external beauty. real beauty is internal beauty.
M: Disagree. These are makes people look like ugly or disgusting.
F: If I am fat. I am not beautiful.

Overall, I was not surprised with the answers. I need to actively tell myself not to be disappointed, however, because to be quite honest, it saddens me that most of my students are unable to see beauty in anyone who is not tall, thin, fair, and cute. For them, fat can't be pretty. Hairless can't be pretty. Tattoos and piercings cannot be beautiful. Freckles, in particular, are atrocious. (I think my students initially thought that the freckled girl whose photo I showed actually had a bad case of acne, even though I provided a Korean translation: 주근깨, not 여드름. Nevertheless, they were literally revulsed by her.) Why, teenagers, why must you exhibit such shallowness?

Well, Andrew, you say, because they're teenagers, duh. And because you asked them for their opinions, and they gave them.

Right you are. I've got to cut them some slack. After all, beauty is subjective, and it's silly to bemoan a difference of opinion.

On the other hand, I know that I gave at least some students something to think about as they left class. US, one of my more likable students, told me that at first, he believed that our individual ideas of beauty came simply from our own minds, but now he can see that what we see in advertising and on TV does influence us.

- - -

On a side note, I also showed the Average Faces of various East Asian races, and my students could pick out the Korean every single time. It was impressive; I had trouble distinguishing the Koreans and the Japanese, but my students knew instantly who was Japanese (and made disparaging noises at them...). When asked to vote on the most attractive face, most hands up went for -- you guessed it -- the Koreans. Second-place finishers were the Taiwanese, weirdly enough.

How well can you do? Take a look below.

Which country is each "average man" from? (Answers below)

Which country is each "average woman" from? (Answers below)

So, that's evidence that familiarity breeds liking (I think I'm mis-using that psychological concept, but anyway). It's no surprise to me that Koreans like Koreans. But what about races that they're arguably unfamiliar with? I showed my students white faces next. A majority of every class thought that the bottom left pair were the most beautiful, but nobody correctly guessed what country they were from.

Each man-woman pair represents one country with a majority White population.

So, in light of Dove's most recent beauty campaign and its consequent backlash, I've thinking more than ever about beauty and its role in our society. There's so much to be dissected here that I'm really tempted to do a follow-up lesson with my students and see what they think of concepts such as inner beauty, unconventional beauty, and self-esteem.

I would love for all of my students to think highly of themselves, because they're all quite smart and I'm not just saying that. But in addition, I believe that because everyone is created in God's (spiritual and physical) image, there's beauty to be found in every face, and I hope that knowing they are beautiful just as they come can help my students battle the pressures to conform to the unnatural and impossible beauty standards that we face.

- - -

Okay, and now for the "Whose face is that?" answers:
Men: (top left to right) Mongolian, Taiwanese, Chinese, (bottom) Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese
Women: (top left to right) Taiwanese, Vietnamese, Mongolian, (bottom) Japanese, Chinese, Korean
Whites: (top left to right) Italian, French, (bottom) American (!), Swiss

Why am I not surprised that my students found the Americans the most attractive, even though they kept guessing that they were English or French?

Why I Got Angry Today, and How the Problem Fixed Itself (Kind Of)

It was supposed to be a mini-lesson on the slang prefix "super-" and its use in modifying adjectives. While compiling my list of American slang to teach in class, I'd noticed that "super-" is used more often in front of positive adjectives than in front of negative ones. (Compare super-cool, super-smart, super-cute, and super-close to super-lame, super-dumb, super-ugly, and super-far.) It's not a hard and fast rule, but I figured that most people tended to associate the prefix with ideas of greatness and attractiveness.

With that in mind, I combined the lesson on this bit of slang with an exercise in compliments. I told my classes that "super-" is most often use with positive adjectives, describing people that one likes, such as friends or family. So, my classes brainstormed as many positive adjectives as they could: brilliant, glamorous, sexy, tall, warm-hearted, awesome, nice. A few jokesters called out adjectives that wouldn't necessarily be considered positive, at least in my opinion. And that's where the problem arose.

When I had my students read their compliments out loud to each other, the "MJ is super-pretty!" and "YH is super-good at math!" were just fine, but then DR -- of all people, the class captain -- had to get up and, with a smirk on his face, read out three compliments he had written. "US is super-short, because he is only 1.5 meters. KI is super-gay, because he likes men. UH is super-dark, because..." and by that time I was so angry that I didn't even hear how that one ended.

"DR. Are those compliments?" I tried to ask it neutrally, but I bet whatever expression I was wearing made it really obvious that I was nowhere near neutral.

He looked at me guiltily, said no, and sat down again.

I tried to continue the exercise and had more people give their compliments, but inside I felt like I'd just been completely deflated. Hindsight told me to make DR apologize in front of the class, or to explain why I was upset, anything but just go on and pretend that nothing had happened. But as I was scrambling to think about what I should've done as well as what I was going to do in the last three minutes of class, it happened again. A female student said another female student was "super-cute", and some boys in the back of the classroom called out, "Gayyy."

I stopped everything and addressed the class, two minutes before the bell was to ring.

"Okay, maybe this isn't the best time to talk about this, but... I will. Please do not use the word 'gay' as an insult. It's very, very offensive." Damn, that didn't come out the way I had intended to. I could've said more, but the class laughed when I wrote 'gay' on the board to make it clear what I was referring to. Screw this, I thought. Just end class already.

Convinced I'd just botched that moral lesson, I figured I'd just save the real lecture for another day, even though I only have one class left with the first-years. I went back to my office, pretty dejected. When my co-teacher asked what was wrong, I explained that I was offended by the students who tried to be funny in class by putting down other students: short, gay, and dark-skinned are all negative stereotypes in Korea, and the "complimented" students could have been hurt by the comments.

Co-teacher responded by saying that the students were just in the habit of making fun of each other by insulting each other in a way that actually showed their solidarity and friendship. "Not that it makes it okay," she added, "but I don't think they had bad intentions."

I told her that I think it's important that students learn about how words can harm others even if they don't intend them to and about how jokes cracked at the expense of someone's feelings can be dangerous. I mused about whether I'd administer some sort of retroactive punishment or just find DR later to talk to him in person. I was scolding myself for not having a better plan of action ready, because let's be serious: this is high school, and my students are still kids. I should have expected this to happen sooner or later.

Fortunately, I didn't actually have to do anything. In the last few minutes of passing period, DR himself stepped into my office, looking meek. He came to apologize. He said, "Teacher, I'm sorry." I had him sit down, and then I explained that his words could have hurt and that while it is usually good to be funny, it is not good to be funny by making fun of other people. I told him to apologize to the three students he had insulted and also to give them real "super" compliments this time. Lastly, I asked him if he understood everything I said and if we would need my co-teacher to translate. He said no, and then I let him go.

Now, I don't know if DR actually did do what I told him to. I hope he did apologize to his peers. But if he didn't, I can at least be sure that he actually did feel remorse for his actions. How? I didn't ever tell him to come to my office or stay after class, but he came on his own initiative. I guess it was a bit of his feeling of responsibility as class captain coupled with my extremely visible disappointment in him and the rest of the class that got to him. And I was super-impressed.

In any case, after DR left, I felt significantly better about the situation. But if (when) it happens again, I'm going to be better prepared. There's no reason I can't teach respect and citizenship on top of English grammar and slang.

Teaching Politics

I made a mistake today. Well, the mistake was yesterday, actually. Yesterday, I assumed that I would have enough time in the morning -- because I normally have no classes on Mondays before lunch -- to cobble together a quick lesson on American politics and the upcoming election for my first-years.

In Korea, never assume.

As soon as first period had started, one of my co-teachers came by my office and told me that the schedule for the second-years' college prep English conversation course had been finalized. Oh, yes, I forgot: November has been ushered in with a complete reshuffling of my second-year classes. Now, I had known this, but I forgot how soon the change would occur. To my dismay, the new schedule had bumped one of my first-year classes up to Mondays. Mondays at third period, to be exact. Which would begin in less than two hours.

I definitely had to scramble to get the lesson done, and it wasn't great. I essentially talked at my students for half an hour and then had them watch a snippet of Obama's acceptance speech at this year's Democratic National Convention. It was boring, some of them fell asleep, and the fault is entirely mine.

My co-teacher, always supportive, told me she thought it was a great lesson and that my timing was perfect. I thanked her for the compliment, but I completely disagree; it was a crappy lesson, and I should have begun planning it last week. I sat right back down at my desk after third period, and worked on it during fourth, fifth, and sixth, as well, to fix it for the next class. I did some quick research. I made a ballot box out of an empty box of chocopie (always useful; I'd like more). And I went to seventh period armed and ready!

My MacGyvered ballot box, made from an empty chocopie box, plus ballots.

Fortunately, version 2.0 of the Election Day lesson went wonderfully. I began the class with hangman, which, I have discovered this late in the game, all of my students love unconditionally. "Exercise your right to vote!" And then I had them brainstorm types of government. This was hilarious, as I got some of the usual, "democracy", "kingdom", "socialism"... and then some more creative answers: "non-government" (anarchy), "priest-government" (theocracy), and "dictation" (dictatorship). And then a poor student tried to say "vassalage", and I have no idea where he learned that word -- even I couldn't decipher what he was trying to say (or spell; he tried V-A-S-S-L-L-G-E) for several minutes. So, yes, today I went on a tangent and told my students about feudalism.

After introducing the current candidates for tomorrow's election, with some awesome coincidental mnemonics (Democrat, Donkey, Obama, Biden, Blue, Left-wing vs. Republican, Elephant, Romney, Ryan, Red, Right-wing), I actually had my students vote! I presented Obama's and Romney's stances -- extremely simplified, and non-partisan -- on education, the environment, the economy, healthcare, and same-sex marriage (information grabbed hastily and gratefully from aljazeera), and then passed out mock ballots for the "state" of Changwon Science High School. Our constituents were voting on President and also the passage of a certain Proposition 31, which would continue funding for English classes at our school even though "we suddenly have no more money".

I am happy to report that in Class 1-3, Obama won and Proposition 31 was passed, both by a landslide. Here's hoping for the best come November 6th! (My absentee ballot still hasn't been received by Delaware County...)

Look, this voter wrote "I like gay~!" Warms my heart, especially since the average Korean high school classroom is fairly homophobic. When I introduced Obama's and Romney's stances on same-sex marriage -- actually, as soon as I said "same-sex marriage", the whole class went, "Ooooohhhhhhh!!!!1!!1!11" as if I had said a dirty word.

The Bucket List Lesson

My bucket short-list, an in-class example.

As of today, I've finished teaching my first unit to my second-year students. The theme was "Dreams", and in the last lesson, I taught about bucket lists (with video supplements from the 2007 movie and a nice TED talk).

I tried to emphasize putting realistic dreams and goals on these lists, knowing that if I simply said, "Anything is possible!" they would all write that they would marry Suzy or Won Bin or live on the moon.

As a result, I got lots of great bucket lists. The majority of them, of course, were nothing out of the ordinary: my students want to travel to all sorts of countries, meet celebrities, find love, learn musical instruments, and get good jobs. (But there weren't as many "become very rich"-es as I expected).

And what surprised me the most was that, given that I was compiling each class' Bucket List Top 10, all of the dreams and goals they came up with were so original. With about twenty-two students in each class, each of them writing five things on their list, I actually got eighty to ninety unique bucket list items.

So now, I will present some of my favorites, the ones that made me laugh or think for a moment. (And I am quoting verbatim, so please excuse their syntax!)

"Before I die I will raise a hawk."
"Before I die, I will spread many money, standing on a building's top"

"Before I die, I want to make my mine. I want to dig my own mine."

"I want proud myself"

"I will meet David Tennent"

"I want to catch fish with hand"

"I will to be a VIP at Outback"

"to do a speaking at TED"
"Crash a wall on my punching."

"believe religious"

"Be someone's eternal knight."

"have dramatic love"

The ones that should be on my bucket list:
"Before I die I will make a very very Big cake"
"eat cheese that is most delicious cheese in the world with honey"
"Meet very handsome and rich guy and make him mine."
"be with Polar bear"

And now, the best of the bunch:

Runner-up: "Take a nap under the warm sunlight in the green field."

The winner: "punish my middle school music teacher"

Brief highlights from a good day

Mondays are not generally known for being awesome, but mine was fairly so. That's why I want to share what happened! I'll be brief, though.

• This morning, I went completely nuts in Korean language classes. We're in the middle of a unit on shopping, so we were learning about things like colors, counters, clothes, and fruits. Teacher Kim was drawing fruits on the board, and they were all really cute-looking. But when she drew a watermelon, it looked really... odd. Soon, who was sitting next to me, remarked quietly that it looked like bacon on a plate. And that just struck an unbelievably funny chord in me that I couldn't stop laughing for like ten minutes. I tried everything: focusing on my textbook, thinking sad thoughts, and laughing as quietly as I could into my hand, but to no avail. In the end, I was laughing so uncontrollably that I was tearing up and really embarrassed, and I had to leave the room.
• Unrelated: apparently, watermelon bacon salad is a thing. (I was Google image searching for a clip art of watermelon that would help make sense of why I went briefly insane this morning, but nothing beats the bacon plate that Teacher Kim drew on the blackboard.
• Also, my classmates have begun calling me 수박 (subak - watermelon) 씨. Great.
• I had my second go at practice teaching today! Most of the lesson was spent playing Telephone Pictionary with my students, who were of in the high-advanced level class. The game was a hit! I wish I'd taken some photos of some of their stories: the sentences and drawings were simple, but they loved it. I also taught them how to respond to less-than-fascinating situations by shrugging their shoulders and saying, "Meh." Best of all, I got mostly positive feedback from the students and my CI observer.
• In an afternoon lull, I decided to kill time by playing guitar with Caden, our RA. He picked up the guitar (기타) recently but learns really fast. Katelyn and I taught him Ingrid Michaelson's "The Way I Am". It was a lovely half-hour.

• In taekwondo class, we've been learning kicks: low front kick, high front kick, and roundhouse kick. In class today, we learned something called the "axe kick". But after Master Choi first demonstrated it -- we were in awe -- and told us what it was, it sounded a lot like he said this move was called the "ass kick". He also joked that it'd be useful to learn this kick if we wanted to kill someone. I repeat, just a 농담 (nongdam - joke)!
• We also played dodgeball at the end of class, and my team won! Liam swore we'd rematch.
• At dinner afterward, Master Choi surprised us by joining us, and I managed some light conversation with him in Korean about the ETAs' placements, his actual job (an administrator of some sort at Jungwon), and his haircut. Yeah, progress!
• I finished my third lesson plan!
• Weekly Bible study tonight was a good refresher. We studied John 15 (Vine and the Branches) and talked about how being far from home might feel like a painful pruning, but the cutting away of comforts and spiritual idols is in fact a good thing that will help us, as branches, bear more fruit.

Good Monday! To commemorate it, here is a photo of me with a lighted replica of the Eiffel Tower in one of the weirdest museums in all of South Korea.

Weird, weird museum. We visited during the Donghae weekend. Ask me more about it if you get the chance!

My first teaching experience!

Today, I taught a class for the first time. I feel fairly good about it! At least, it was exciting being up in front of the classroom and witnessing my ideas actually taking root in my students' minds. I realized that I could prepare my lesson plan for as long as I wanted, but once class started there was no telling how it would go.

Background
Let me explain a little: the semester hasn't started yet; it doesn't for at least another month. But right now, in the middle of Fulbright Orientation, all of the ETAs are getting three opportunities to practice teaching at Camp Fulbright. This is an English summer camp for gifted or high-level students from around the country; over the past seven years, it has gained a reputation for being one of the best camps of its kind. It runs for two weeks (having begun this past Monday), and there are about 110 students ranging from ten to sixteen years old.

In the class that I student-taught today, there were nine students who had been placed in an Intermediate level. Another ETA, Nina, and I were splitting the afternoon session, forty-five minutes each. Today's theme was Documentary (the theme of the camp is movie genres), so Nina's lesson had the students create their own proposals for documentaries they'd like to film. My lesson deviated a bit from the norm: I planned to show my students the trailer for District 9, talk about "mockumentaries", and then spiral off into a lesson about plot twists.

This morning, during Korean classes, I wasn't feeling that nervous, but as 1:30pm drew closer I got a bit more anxious. It didn't help that some of the other ETAs who were teaching today were beginning to freak out (thanks, Nhu). I gave myself all of ten minutes to bolt down lunch and then went upstairs to prepare the classroom. At 1:30pm, Nina gave her lesson. I was supposed to be writing comments and critiques while she taught, but I was getting too nervous to really pay attention. And finally, it was my turn!

The Class
When I introduced myself to the class, I mentioned that I was from California. Immediately, one of the more active students said something that I thought was, "California... has good girls!" I was totally wrong, though; he was talking about Californian cars. The whole class laughed at my comprehension mistake, but it was a neat way to inadvertently lighten the mood and get me to loosen up a bit.

I had them play Two Truths and a Lie with three "facts" I gave about myself: I can play the cello, I have been to fourteen foreign countries, and I am Korean-American. Most of the class saw right through the race one. I guess I don't like very Korean! I then explained that I am Taiwanese-American.

When it came time to start the actual lesson, that which every modern teacher fears inevitably had to happen: technological difficulties! The YouTube video I wanted to show wouldn't load on the computer. I had to refresh the page, but then YouTube wanted to show an advertisement first. It was unnerving and kind of awkward, but I just stalled until the video finally started. The point of showing the trailer was to have students think about what kind of people would be unwanted in a society. I stopped before the twist and asked them who they thought were the "they" to whom everyone kept referring. I got soldiers, immigrants, and poor people as some suggestions. And then: plot twist! "They" are actually aliens.

At this point, I thought I'd related my lesson to the real teacher's unit theme on appreciating differences well enough, but perhaps the connection wasn't clear enough. However, I wanted to quickly move on from the hook to the main lecture, which was on plot twists. Later, I got comments from my observers that I could have explained the movie a little bit more and explicitly talked about how District 9 deals with the treatment of a minority group. This way I'd have continuity or cohesion with the morning classes.

For the lesson on plot twists, I showed them clips from The Princess and the Frog (the scene where Tiana kisses the frog, only to turn into a frog herself) and Star Wars ("No, I am your father."), trying to give something for the girls as well as the boys. To check for understanding, I asked my students if they could think of any stories they knew that had plot twists. The answer: silence. Oh well!

I then talked about the phrase "As it turns out..." and how it is used to express a reality that is different from the expectation. After some examples, I gave them what I thought would be a great activity: skits! Dividing the class into three groups, I gave them each a short scenario that I had created myself, based on some of the themes from previous days (Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Mystery), telling them to add a plot twist to the story and then act it out in front of the class.

The Skits
Once I reached this point of the lesson, I was feeling good. It was time for the students to do their own work, they were fairly involved in it and not (completely) lost, and I could take a breather from talking so much. In full teacher mode, then, I walked around the classroom and helped the groups move along in their assignment. A part of me feels like I helped maybe a bit too much, because I would complete students' sentences and give them very direct "pointers". But my observers noted that it was good that I took the time to help out students without their having asked, because often they will be too shy to ask for help.

The acting was pretty funny to watch. In the first skit, two astronauts landed on Mars and met an alien that they thought was going to eat them. But the plot twist was that the alien was a vegetarian. The second group had a whodunit mystery where a woman's jewels were stolen. "But, as it turns out..." the woman's husband stole the jewels! This group went a little out of bounds with the rest of their scene, because the detective, after discovering that the husband was "crime" (he meant guilty), said, "Now you will go to jail with me or I will kill you!" Oops. The last group had the most difficulty completing their script... or really understanding what was going on at all. But at least they got up and read some of their lines. I give them brownie points for that, but next time I will take more time out to make sure they understand what's going on and what's expected of them. (That way, also, their dialogue won't end with the ubiquitous, "Shut up!" and "No, you shut up!")

The Feedback
When class ended, I was feeling positive about how it went. But of course, there is always, always room for improvement. The main critique I got was the Camp Instructors who were observing me was that I stayed too close to my schedule. While my timing was "impeccable", it was also restrictive, because sometimes I would cut off my students while they were speaking or put words into their mouths since I wanted to move on with the lesson. I learned today never to shush my students, but instead to praise every bit of English that comes out of their mouths. If a particularly garrulous student won't be quiet, though, I have to address that issue in a different manner that still acknowledges that their enthusiasm for English is a wonderful thing.

I was also told to check more for students' understanding. Rather than simply ask, "Do you all understand? Do you have any questions?", ask for actual proof that they understand. In fact, I am already aware of this; as a current student of Korean (and a veteran of all kinds of foreign language classes), it's embarrassing to admit you have no idea what's going on when the rest of the class seems to get it. The secret is that most of the class also has no idea what's going on, and it's worth speaking for the rest of them by asking for clarification. But these students won't do that. So, have them say more, write down things more, and explain things back to you more. Play with wrong answers! Don't shut anyone down if they're wrong, but turn everything into an opportunity to speak more English.

In the end, teaching an English conversation class is about getting my students to speak, not to be perfect or to learn every last grammar point. I should also be focusing all of my efforts in building their confidence and comfort level with spoken English.

Looking Forward
Last night, as I interacted with some of my students at a homework help session, I was interviewed by a few of them (their assignment was to interview an American). They asked for my hidden talent (ukulele, hand-whistling), my favorite superhero (Angel), and my goals as a teacher and my goals in life. Before I even taught for the first time, I decided that my goals as a teacher would be to help my students achieve their dreams, especially by giving them the tools to help themselves learn. And that starts by giving them confidence. So, for my next lesson, I'm going to be more lenient with my time and more focused on giving my students a voice!

My goal as a teacher is to help my students fly! Woohoo!

That's it for now. This was a supremely long post! I promise that every time I teach a new lesson plan, I won't post all of my reflections on this blog. It's a good habit to reflect, and I just wanted to get as much down as I could for the first time, especially while it's still fresh. But there are many other things going on during Orientation (still four weeks to go!), and I'll begin to write more about those.