The New Dork

The Korea Times posted an article yesterday touting Twitter as a significant force in this week's elections. While I knew that Korean people knew about Twitter, because I have often been asked if I was on it-- usually before being barraged with questions about Obama-- I didn't know that many Korean nationals actually use the site. Though the article seemed to possibly be overstating the case-- a 400,000 person presence on Twitter significantly turned the outcome of elections?-- it brought me back mentally to 2008 in the US and to the feeling of familiarity and home.

I suppose, though, that I shouldn't have been as struck by this as I was. After all, one of the top 3 aspects of Korean culture that foreigners here name as most notable is TECHNOLOGY. I was initially surprised when I learned this-- I probably would have said something about kimchi, or the Korean work ethic myself-- but that is probably just because I am completely technologically challenged and so do not have my eyes open to that sort of thing; my grandparents and I relate well when it comes to stuff like computers and text messages. With a little research, however, I came to learn that Korea is in fact the seventh most wired country in the world, and is ranked second only to Hong Kong in Asia according to Forbes magazine, which doles out its rankings not only on based on tech-usage, but tech-friendly government policies. So it seems that Korea and technology experience a mutual loving relationship.

I have certainly seen this mutual embrace reflected by my students. These kids are all about their computer games. It is literally all they claim to do, aside from study, sleep and eat. In my classes, it has even gotten to the point that anytime I am teaching a lesson related to hobbies, I qualify that speaking about computer games is off limits, just so they have the opportunity to learn some new vocabulary. Even so, their resolve to talk about computers is unshakable. Today, I asked a student what kind of house he wanted to have when he grew up, and he answered that he wanted a house with four P.C. rooms devoted solely to gaming. At home, a statement like that might have earned that student a few less-than-kind snickers, but here it garnered a roomful of enthusiastic nods of agreement.

I'm always looking for ways to harness this enthusiasm for technology to excite the students about English. Recently, I've been translating songs into text lingo and having them compete to decode the songs and guess the name of the artist. I've also come across this remake of Empire State of Mind called The New Dork- Entrepreneur State of Mind. The students in my advanced classes completely get a kick out of it, because the lyrics all refer to a world they can relate to well.

Election Day

Two more days off of work this week. It's kind of strange having so many teaching days canceled so close together-- and inconvenient, since we are nearing the end of the semester and there doesn't ever quite seem to be enough time to accomplish all that is required. But, given how busy I am right now both at work and with other responsibilities, it has been helpful in a way to get a little bit of time to devote to planning, prioritizing and organizing. I feel a bit more on top of things, and not as much like I am playing catch-up.

Another perk of the vacation days-- they mark the end of Korea's very... um, Korean?... campaigning process for local elections. Tomorrow is Election day (by the way, try saying that with a Korean accent-- l's are r's-- and that's what I've been hearing all week), which is treated as a national holiday, giving everyone the day off in order to take away any excuse not to vote.

Election season is much shorter here than what we experience in the US, but it packs a bit more of a punch. For the past few weeks, every street corner, subway station and open public space has been filled with people, mostly middle-aged, in various *matching neon-colored outfits* doing *choreographed dances and cheers* in front of giant screens that display the face of their chosen candidate. Yep. I'm really sorry I don't have pictures or video to share this phenomenon with you, but if you are picturing it and it looks more than slightly ridiculous, you are probably imagining it correctly. Now add to that image fleets of oddly designed colorful trucks that drive up and down the streets blaring music and rhetoric, most often manned by a pair of women-- dressed of course in their candidate's signature color-- riding in the back to dance, wave, smile and bow at every passer-by... and there you have a pretty accurate picture of my daily surrounding for the past month.

I've definitely enjoyed it while it's lasted, and I definitely think I will equally enjoy it when it is over.

:)


UPDATE: Here are a few photos of Korean election campaigners that I stole from a friend. They don't completely give an adequate picture of the phenomenon I described, but they do give a small taste.

The Dark Underbelly of Teacher's Day

The Month of Family, as May is often referred to in Korea, includes Children's Day, Parent's Day, and finally Teacher's Day on May 15th. The inclusion of teachers in a month set aside to honor the most intimate and foundational of social systems reflects the high regard with which the teaching profession has long been held in Korean society. And while this sentiment may be waning somewhat among younger generations, teachers are still widely acknowledged as one of the most important influences on a young person's development and ability to succeed in life. Teacher's Day is a day set apart to acknowledge the hard work that teachers invest in the future of the nation.

The respect and honor traditionally shown to teachers has, of course, a direct correlation to the extraordinarily high emphasis placed on education in Korea-- something I have mentioned here many times before. And with the exponential rise in educational and professional competition featuring so prominently in South Korea's recent history, it comes as no surprise that this enthusiasm and competitiveness has infiltrated the celebration of Teacher's Day as well.

My extensive Wikipedia research on the subject [;)] returned the following...

Originally [Teacher's Day in Korea] was started by a group of red-cross youth team members who visited their sick ex-teachers at hospitals. The national celebration ceremony had been stopped between 1973 and 1982 and it resumed after that. On the celebration day, teachers are usually presented with carnations by their students, and both enjoy a shorter school day. Ex-students pay their respects to the former teachers by visiting them and handing them a carnation. Many schools now close on Teacher's Day because of the rampant bribery implicit in the expensive gifts often given to teachers.

At my own school, Teacher's Day is treated just as any other school day, a conscious decision having been made to avoid any school-wide celebration or endorsement of the day for exactly the reason mentioned above-- bribery and extravagant gifts have in the past caused scandal and dissension among the parents and within the community.

As a native English-speaking teacher with little say over the children's grades, I am fortunately not impacted by these kinds of politics, and for me it has proved a sweet day. Knowing that they will not see me tomorrow (school is held every other Saturday, but I only work Monday through Friday on any given week), a few of my students have given me gifts of cards, candy, and various little origami creations. They also asked to sing for me in class this morning, and while I know that atleast 80% of their motivation in this was to avoid having to do work for the day, it nonetheless put a smile on my face.

April Fool

So, apparently I give off the "I'm gullible" vibe across all cultures...

Today is April Fool's day, and it's a day that is just as popular and well loved here in Korea as it is in the States. Knowing this, and given that I work with *middle school* kids, you would think I would have been a little more cautious and at least somewhat skeptical of anything that seemed a bit out of order today. But, no.

Every Wednesday and Thursday afternoon after school I have an extra class with about 18 of the 3rd grade (think 9th grade) boys. They are a great group-- always very active, eager to pay attention and willing to participate in making class creative, fun and productive. They are some of my favorite kids in the school, mainly because they are some of the few with whom I have actually managed to forge strong relationships.

Today, though, when the bell rang to start class, they were all standing in the hallway right outside of the classroom. A little annoyed, I opened up the door to tell them to hurry up and come in. One of the students came in and told me that one of the other English teachers had sent him to ask me to come to see him in his office. A few other students nodded in confirmation. I was surprised but went looking for the teacher anyway. I checked his office and he wasn't there, so I stopped another teacher in the hall to ask if she knew where he was.

Needless to say, I quickly figured out that he had NOT in fact asked to see me, and was reminded between laughs that it was April 1st. When I came back to the classroom, the boys were all sitting in their chairs quietly, hands folded in their laps with angelic little wide-eyed smiles on their faces. "Teacher, find him?"

A perfect April Fools prank-- not so serious or big, but still managed to make me look foolish in a big way. A number of things about the situation should have tipped me off (like, why the pre-class huddle? and why would this particular teacher want to see me when we hadn't spoken all week? and during class no less?) but never once did it even cross my mind that the kids were not being one hundred percent honest with me.

They completely got me, and it was great. :D

My only regret is not having been prepared with a prank of my own. But after this experience, if I'm still here for this day next year, I've definitely got something big in mind.

8 Months!

This upcoming weekend marks the 8 month anniversary of my arrival in the ROK.

EIGHT MONTHS!!!

It is wild to me that it has already been so long. It is even wilder that the time until my contract is up is suddenly looking so *short.* 4 months is really no time at all.

As I have begun to realize that decisions are soon going to have to be made and have started to give a lot of thought to just what those should be, there are only two things that I have been able to conclude with any sense of certainty;

1. God has a good and perfect plan for my life.

2. I will drive myself crazy if I try to figure out exactly what that plan is.

So, rather than try to figure it out, I have resolved that I will simply go along with it. Uncertainty is what brought me to Korea in the first place, and my time here has proven to be a literal God-send. I doubt I've made it clear through my blog just how much perspective I have gained and how much I have grown up since being in Korea, but, believe me, it has been happening. And the knowledge that, despite my own best efforts, I ended up where God wanted me to be, is truth that I am holding onto tightly as I navigate through a very muddled pool of intentions, desires, and job applications in looking towards my next step.

Updates to come as I figure out just what that step will be....

New semester... New outlook

I've kind of been a failure at blogging lately, and want to try to get back into the habit, so here goes.. a short blurb about the last week and a half!

I am currently in the midst of my second week of teaching in the new semester. This year, I have first and second grade (7th and 8th grade) students, rather than first and third like last term. I actually had a lot of apprehension going into this new semester-- mainly because, after getting off to a VERY rocky start last time, I had finally found a rhythm that allowed me to enjoy the second half of the past semester... so I REALLY feared breaking that and having to go back to feeling the way I did in the beginning. Because it was definitely not fun.

Fortunately, though, starting off this new semester has been a completely different story. Work still holds plenty of challenges for sure, but I am getting a lot more joy out of my job, and am feeling much more confident in the classroom. This time around, I knew what to expect and was prepared, which has made quite a difference. In addition, I am no longer phased when informed of schedule changes the day-of, and I no longer beat myself up for things that I can't control. And I can't overstate just how much more bearable my work life is because of these mindset shifts!

I am coming to really embrace the fact that, in spite of the challenges, there is a lot to be thankful for in working for a Korean public school. For one thing, it is a very stable position, and I don't have to worry about the possibility of my school shutting down-- a very real fear for many working in hagwons here. I am also kind of a rock star to the students, who simply love me for being the only foreign face among them-- and while it's definitely strange and can be pretty annoying at times, it's also often something that- on most days- I can harness and use to my advantage. Plus, working in this system, I rarely have to worry about grading and am generally given ample time for lesson planning while at work. I can usually get about a week or a week and a half's use out of one lesson for each grade and ability level that I teach, and that gives me a lot of freedom and flexibility, both at work and in life in general. Teaching here definitely does not consume my time the way that it can for teachers at home.

All in all, working as an ESL teacher in Korea, despite some of the unique challenges, is not a heavy load to bear. It leaves me a ample room in my life to explore, learn and grow through my time here, and that is something for which I am truly grateful.

The Little Tom Cruise and Backyard Football

Christopher is a HUGE hit here in Korea.

Everywhere we go, people-- and by people, I mean random strangers on the street-- stop us to comment on how good-looking he is. They are in complete awe of him. And I don't think Christopher is quite sure how to deal with it. He always kind of gets this deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face whenever people start fawning over him in Korean. We've told him to just bow and say kam sa ham ni da whenever he is spoken to, even if he doesn't understand, because chances are it is just yet another person saying that he looks like a "little Tom Cruise"...

Yesterday, Shelly and Christopher came and met me at school for lunch. We went to a restaurant nearby that serves handmade noodles and is owned by the parents of one of my students. The owners don't speak any English and I can never remember the name of the food I like, but when we walked in they knew exactly what we wanted. The meal was wonderful, as usual, and Shelly and Christopher really enjoyed their first experience getting to sit on the floor in a restaurant.

After eating, Christopher and Shelly decided they wanted to go play in the park next to my school. I whined for a minute about wishing that I could join them, and then got the brilliant idea that I could join them if I just brought all of my students along. My lesson for the day was on Thanksgiving, and I was planning to teach the students about American football-- so I decided, why not take the students outside and actually teach them how to play backyard football? Or, better yet, have Shelly and Christopher help me teach them! So I sent Shelly and Christopher off to Home Plus in search of a football (their first shopping adventure alone!) while I conducted the first 3 periods of classroom time, and then we all met back up the park for the last 45 min of class to play a game of touch football. It was a little haphazard and crazy but a lot of fun, and the students were able to demonstrate that they understood all of the basic concepts. They were also really happy to meet my brother and sister, and their excitement over Christopher's adorableness seemed to match with the rest of Korea's.

Below I've posted some pictures of the game that I took with Shelly's camera. Christopher and Shelly look like teaching pros, don't they?




Group shot!



I told the students to be crazy, and this was the result. It doesn't give a very accurate picture of how really crazy they can get.


:)

What makes you happy?

This was the opening question I used to jump-start conversation in one of my advanced adult ESL classes this week. I learned a lot of things both about and from my students in the conversation that ensued, not the least of which is that there is a very distinct difference between the things that you feel happy doing, experiencing, or having, and what it is about those things that actually makes you feel happy. As a class we came to the conclusion that if you really want to know and understand yourself, you must get at this second and often much more difficult question.

In my last post, I rambled a bit about how simply *happy* I have been this week, and listed a few of the reasons why. But these “reasons” only addressed the things that made me happy, rather than what it is about these things that have had such undeniable power to fill me up with so much joy. So I decided to give a little more thought to the things that have recently made me happy, and encouraged my students to do the same. Here’s a bit of what I came up with in my own reflections…

I was happy this week because it was snowy.

What makes me happy:

Experiencing beauty that is pure, natural, and utterly beyond my influence or control

Giving into the urge to simply *play* and feel like a little girl again

I was happy this week because I got to teach an adult class at my school.

What makes me happy:

Getting to pour myself into *women* and connect with them on a heart level

Building relationships and offering people what they want and need, rather than simply instructing them

Being appreciated

I was happy this week because I have spent a lot of time anticipating the arrival of my brother and sister in Korea.

What makes me happy:

Knowing that I am loved and cared about

Showing my love and affection in physical and tangible ways, rather than solely by my words

Being part of an intimate and affectionate family with whom I can be completely authentic and real

I was happy this week because I got to go to an advocacy and prayer meeting for an issue that matters to me.

What makes me happy:

Being connected to like-minded individuals

Being a part of something bigger than myself

Feeling that my actions are in line with my values, passion, and heart

Being enabled, and enabling others, to make a positive impact on a hurting world

For me, making this kind of list is about more than just self-discovery. It is about acknowledging the desires of my heart, and having eyes opened to see the ways that God shows me His grace in meeting those desires; it’s about recognizing my created purpose and the hand of God at work in my life.

More than anything, it’s about understanding JOY-- not only in order to pursue it, but in order to be driven to thankfulness for it.

I am the happiest person in Korea right now

I LOVE THE SNOW!! It's been snowing all day and has yet to stop-- when I stepped out for work this morning, I was nearly knee deep in it! AND they are calling for another 10-12 inches tonighttt! I'm liking the way that Korea kicks off the New Year!


This week, since our students are on winter vacation, I am running a conversation class for a few of the other teachers at my school. I wasn't sure how it was going to go, but today turned out to be such a pure JOY! SO much fun, and I'm really looking forward to the next few days with them.

Andddd Shelly and Christopher are coming to visit me in JUST TWO SHORT WEEKS and will get to stay for A WHOLE MONTH! I am planning all kinds of wintery activities and Korean cultural treats for them that I am really excited about-- the main one being that I will hug their necks for approximately 4 days straight when do I finally get to see them!!

I literally don't think I could possibly be in any better mood than I am right now.

If you've ever wondered what people think Americans sound like...

The video below-- made by an Italian singer to sound like English-- gives you a picture of what my students are probably hearing 90% of the time when I try to speak to them. Unfortunately for them, though, it's generally without the added fun of a song and dance performance.

After watching this vid, I can now understand my "parrot" students (ie, the kids who think it is absolutely hilarious to repeat back EVERY WORD that I say) just a little bit better.

And apparently the song's "lyrics" sound pretty accurate. Even my co-teacher was trying to figure out what the singer was saying, until I was able to explain to her that it was in fact all gibberish (that's a fun word to teach, by the way).

**
This second video is only slightly related to the first, but I'm posting it anyway because I think it is one of the absolute cutest things EVER. This video makes me want to switch jobs and become an elementary or preschool school teacher ASAP.



I'm pretty tempted to try speaking gibberish to my kids now, just to see if they notice any difference. Hmm... can you tell I've got a bit of extra time on my hands lately? :)

My First Open Class

One of the unique experiences of working in a Korean public school is the fulfilment of the bi-annual "open class" requirement.

The open class is just that-- a class that is advertised and open to any and all visitors, both from within the school, and from other schools in the surrounding area. These visitors observe your "demo lesson" and stick around afterwards to offer crtiques and feedback on what they saw.

To be quite honest, I was dreading having to do this. I really enjoy teaching, but I hate anything that feels remotely like a presentation or a show. As the day of my open class neared, more experienced native teacher friends laughed at my anxiety, telling me not to worry and that it is not such a big deal, while my co-teachers were completely freaking out about it. I was more inclined to trust my Korean co-teachers-- after all, they are more familiar with the importance of the open class for our school and its purpose within the public education system here-- which probably helped me in the preparation stages, but, of course, did nothing for my nerves.

However, my first ever open class was this morning, and I survived.

The topic of my open class was "Let's Talk About Movies." Now that final exams are over for the students, I am free to choose any topic and to use any materials I can get my hands on when creating my lessons for the next month-- which is great because it allows me a level of freedom and flexibility that I ususally don't have. The not-so-great part, however, is that, since exams are over, students are not accountable for anything that they do in class and are therefore completely unmotivated to learn. So, I chose the movie topic in hopes that students would want to be engaged, since movies are something fun that they care about, and because movies would make a great topic of conversation for those who want to make English speaking friends their own age. It is a subject that actually matters to them, and luckily, it was a topic that they turned out to be relatively interested in. The class was far from smooth, but the kids stayed invested, which was huge.

After class, we had a roundtable discussion to elicit feedback from the visiting teachers from surrounding schools. The head of our English department opened the discussion by, I think, trying to discretely apologize for my co-teacher and I-- or perhaps, he was just qualifying our performace-- in saying that he had been worried about me as a "newborn teacher," and emphasizing that both my co-teacher and I had never done an open class before. He added that he was aware that open classes were for demonstration purposes, but that my co-teacher and I had wanted to demonstrate something closer to a real class. Luckily, the other teachers seemed to respond positively to the idea that what they had seen was unrehearsed, and that the lesson was therefore delivered and recieved in a natural way.

The experience overall was a good one. We were critiqued for trying to fit too much into a single class period, being too "academic," having an unbalanced division of speaking time between co-teachers, and for not being thorough enough when checking student comprehension of instructional steps. On the other hand we were commended on our choice of topic, the way that we gave immediate and positive feedback, the high participation and activity level of our students, and our good control of the class (whaattt?? that one shocked me). The visiting teachers gave us very helpful feedback on the lesson that I know is going to make me a better teacher and that I hope to be able to use to open up some avenues of discussion with my co-teachers on just how the logistics of "co-teaching" should play out.

So, after today, while I can't say that I look forward to holding another open class next semester, I now know what a valuable process it can be. I am confident that the information gleaned from the open class experience will be of great benefit to both my students and to me, and that is definitely something to embrace.

(A little side note: I really feel for my friends who are teachers in hagwons-- private language institutes-- who have to do thier open classes for their students' parents, rather than for other teachers. I have a feeling that parents would be a little less constructive in their criticisim, and are bound to view the class through a very different lens [$$] than the teacher...eek. )

Expat Christmastime Slump

Anyone who is remotely acquainted with me will know that I am OBSESSED with Christmastime. From November until January, I am most likely to be found wandering the streets with a giant smile on my face and Starbucks seasonal drink in hand, looking for presents and humming, "It's the most wonderful time of the year." Possibly while wearing a sweater with some type of Christmas character on it.

There is not much that can kill my mood around Christmastime. It is a period of anticipation, hope, generosity, and love, and it just makes me feel so inexplicably and uncontainably joyful. And, fortunately, despite being so far from home, the approach of this particular Christmas has been no exception. Just last night, I got to go to my first Korean Christmas play (All in Korean! And I could actually understand a good bit of it!), and it really took my level of excitement for my first Christmas in Korea up a few notches.

This season is not such a joyful time for all expats in Korea, though. In just the past few weeks, a number of foreign friends that I see on a fairly regular basis have informed me that they have put in their job notices early and will be leaving Korea by the new year. For many foreign English teachers in Korea, this time of year, rather than being cause for celebration, is instead the culmination of a long and stressful semester of failed expectations, culture shock, and mistreatment. And many decide that they can't, or simply don't want to, deal with it any longer.

As I myself contemplate the possibility of staying in Korea for another year, I can't help but reflect on the transient nature of life here, and the fact that if I do make the choice to stay-- as my friends who have already been here for a number of years will attest-- I will have to become very good at saying goodbye.

That is definitely not a skill that I look forward to developing.

Swine Flu Fashion

Last week, 60 plus students in my school were out with the swine flu, so for the past two weeks we have all had to wear surgical masks. It's pretty obnoxious and can be extremely difficult to keep myself from tearing the thing off in complete frustration as I attempt in vain to use my muffled voice to keep the attention of 45 sixteen-year-olds who are currently in the throes of Korean senioritis (it hits early here because of the amount of pressure put on where a student goes and how hard they work in highschool). Nonetheless, since the school principal makes at least three announcements a day reminding students to wear their masks, and all the other teachers are very strict on enforcing the mask-at-all-times rule, I know that I must, at the very least, try to set a good example by wearing my own. If I thought it would make a difference I might cite that the "CDC does not recommend the routine use of personal protective equipment, such as ...surgical masks, for protection against influenza exposure." But, alas, this is not home, and it would not, so I've resigned myself to my fate (I just love to be over-dramatic :P).

There is one small factor that does make the mask requirement a little more tolerable. Being that we are talking about middle school students in Korea-- the land of Hello Kitty lovers and all things cutesy-- it is obvious that plain surgical masks would never do. Plus, since the students are allowed to purchase their own masks rather than wear school issued ones, the masks provide them with their only chance to assert their individuality through fashion in a school where they are all required to wear the same uniform and the girls are all made to wear the same layerless bob and cropped bangs that the boys very disdainfully refer to as "the Choji cut." Thus, mask designs range in everything from pig snouts and whiskers to faux Burberry to wildly creative doodles drawn on with magic marker.

Although I couldn't take pictures of my own students in their masks, and these people don't look nearly as cute or as hilarious as my kids, the photos below give a bit of an idea of what I get to look out at as I try to conduct class everyday.



At least I have a mask of my own to hide behind when I can't help but burst into silent laughter at the sight of them. Sometimes it's the little things that brighten my day.

GEPIK Orientation

I have spent the past three days at an orientation for new native English teachers teaching in the Gyeonggi province public secondary schools. We stayed at a conference center located way out in the middle of nowhere (somewhere to the southwest of where I live I think? maybe...) and attended a ton of lectures and workshops to educate us about teaching English in Korea.

I was wary that this would be nothing more than a time-consuming hoop to jump through, but it turned out to be surprisingly beneficial. My biggest complaint, in fact, is that I didn't receive the training-- or at least some version of it-- earlier on, or even before the semester began. I think I would have been better prepared for the task at hand and could have gone in with a better game-plan from the start had I known from the beginning some of the things that I learned at orientation. Then again, having first-hand knowledge of what we are up against made the conflict resolution and lesson planning small group sessions very useful.

Meeting so many foreign teachers who are currently in the same situation as me (brand-spanking new to teaching in Korean public schools) and being around them for such an extended period of time was a nice change of pace... I had forgotten what it was like to hear so much English around me. Orientation was a great opportunity for networking and making new friends, and especially helpful to be able to draw on one another's common experiences, as well as to discuss the challenges that were unique to each of our particular schools and situations. By the end of the three days, I was certainly ready to head home (the final day was stretched out much longer than was necessary), but I was feeling much more encouraged, motivated, better equipped and more confident in my abilities as a teacher than before.

A few orientation highlights...

Eatyourkimchi.com

I actually discovered this site early on in my stay in Korea. My dad, a former teacher, took pity on my lesson planning and class management woes and took it upon himself to help me look for creative classroom ideas online. Among the many resources that he pointed me to, he emailed me the link to a video about how to use middle school students' love for K-pop (see #3) to your advantage in the classroom. He also encouraged me to check out the site that it came from: eatyourkimchi.com-- a blog set up by a Canadian couple teaching ESL in Bucheon, South Korea (not far from where I live). I gave the site a cursory browse and found it entertaining, but didn't appreciate what a true gem it was until this weekend.

The makers of the site gave a lecture at the orientation, and it was the best one given, hands down. Not only was their lecture highly entertaining, but it was obvious that both speakers really love teaching in Korea, and their enthusiasm was catching. They gave a ton of practical ideas about how to transistion students into "English-mode," how to trick students into actually wanting to participate in class, and how to create more engaging lessons even when forced to use not-so-engaging text book material. The ideas were truly brilliant, and as they were being presented it was easy to imagine how well they would work in an actual classroom setting with my own students. Plus, each of the activities and games that required a ton of prep are downloadable from their website-- which is unbelievably helpful. But the best part was that the lecture sent my brain into overdrive and got me thinking of a million ways that I could use not just their ideas but the principles behind the ideas for other activities in my own classroom.

Introducing GEPIK and The History of English Language Curriculum in Korea

While certainly nowhere as entertaining as the lecture I described above, these two lectures gave me a much better understanding of the educational goals in Korea, why I was really brought here, and how the Korean government is hoping that native teachers like me can improve English education in Korea. I learned during my last internship, prior to coming to Korea, how important it is for me to be oriented towards the big-picture in my daily work-- I want to know how my work fits into bettering the lives of others and society as a whole, so that I don't get bogged down in the day-to-day. Maintaining my perspective by focusing on the big picture is one of the main ways that I am able to stay motivated to put forth my best effort in the face of the challenging and mundane, and that is something that I had not had in Korea up until this point. After these lectures, however, I now have a much better understanding of my role and of the expectations that not only my school but that the entire Korean educational system have with regard to native teachers in Korea, and thus have a much better understanding of what it is that I am working for and towards.

Small Groups

For a number of sessions, we were broken up into small groups for more interactive idea-sharing training. It was our opportunity to troubleshoot and brainstorm with other teachers as well as with GEPIK coordinators about how to deal with specific classroom issues that we had encountered. During these sessions we broke up into even smaller groups of 2 or 3 and participated in both conflict role play as well as demo lessons. We had the opportunity to role play any classroom conflict of our choice-- some of the conflicts we discussed included being pressured by the school to work extra hours, having certain expectations placed on you based on the methods of the school's former English teacher, and dealing with uncooperative or unhelpful co-teachers and school staff. Lesson topics, by contrast, were assigned at random. We had one evening to prepare and then deliver the lesson to the whole group, who were instructed not only to evaluate us but to test our classroom management skills by acting out periodically during out lesson. It was a great opportunity to draw on the ideas and expertise of other teachers and to get feedback on our own teaching, professionalism and classroom management techniques. Of all the lectures at the orientation, nothing did more to help build my confidence and to give me practical tools for the classroom than these sessions. I am grateful that the other teachers in my group put forth their best effort, because we were all able to get much more out of it as a result.

Cultural Orientation

Not all of the lectures pertained to teaching English in Korea directly. We also had a number of culture lessons. Going into them, I was completely sure that these would be a wash, but only because I was overly confident in my own knowledge of Korean culture; turns out I was able to learn a quite few new things. However, my favorite part of the cultural orientation was the traditional Korean dance that was performed for us-- not only because it was fun to watch, but because I had a really strong and unexpected emotional reaction to it; I even had to fight back tears. At first I didn't understand this, but upon reflection I think I reacted so strongly because, in the beginning, I simply appreciated the dance as something completely foreign and exotic, until it hit me that these traditions are a part of my family's history, and by extension a part of my history, in equal measure with Western traditions. For some reason, seeing that dance exposed a depth of longing that most of the time I don't even recognize in myself-- that is, it exposed the depth of my longing to mend the disconnect that I feel from my Korean heritage. These moments of recognition hit me periodically from time to time here, and heighten my level of appreciation for Korean culture, making me extraordinarily glad that I made the choice to spend the next year here. As a matter of fact, during orientation, I had a similar experience which gave me new appreciation for Korea's immense pride in King Sejong and hangeul (the Korean alphabet), but that is another post for another day...

First week of school... atleast I survived.

If I’m being honest, this last week has not been the easiest. There have been a lot of ups and downs for me, and more than a few moments where I have wanted to break down into tears, wondering just what I have gotten myself into.

I began teaching two weeks ago (August 17th) and spent that first week leading two different week-long English conversation “camps.” These camps were actually glorified summer school classes in which I had free reign to find materials and create activities for the kids— provided that the students remained within the bounds of the classroom for an entire three hour block. Each group—morning and afternoon—was made up of about twenty 1st grade (equivalent to 7th grade in the U.S.) students, and we ended up having a blast together. I built a camp around the idea of introducing the students to 7 different English speaking countries, and allowing them to generate vocabulary words in order to talk about and play games related to those places. Things went great with the morning class right from the start; the kids were enthusiastic, responsive, and fun—it was a teacher’s dream. The afternoon class hit a few road bumps the first day—I tried to get the kids out of their seats to play some ice breakers and to do charades, but this made many of them extremely uncomfortable and apprehensive, which subsequently made me feel more like their torturer rather than their teacher. However, the next day I made some adjustments that put them more at ease, so that by the middle of that second day the afternoon kids were just as active and engaged as my morning students. By the end of this English camp experience, I had that “wow, I can actually do this,” feeling and was looking forward to starting up the official school year.

My excitement, however, was quickly replaced by feelings of confusion and frustration as the first day of class began to unfold. I arrived early to set up my class room and to get mentally prepared. I waited in nervous anticipation as the bell rang signaling the end of homeroom and kids began rushing into the halls, presumably headed for their first period classes. I opened the classroom door and gave my most inviting smile, but only received a few hello teacher’s as the students raced by. When the second bell rung I was left facing an empty classroom and wondering if I had somehow misunderstood the schedule—not an unlikely possibility, considering the entire thing was, of course, in Korean. Worried that all of the rest of my classes and plans for the day would be thrown off, I began reviewing all of the paperwork that the school had given me. Finding nothing new there, however, I finally resigned myself to the fact that I would not be able to figure this out, and I settled down at my desk, hoping against hope that my next class would actually show up.

About 30 minutes later, one of my co-workers came rushing into my classroom, looking a little flustered. “You should go downstairs to introduce yourself to the school,” she proclaimed. I gave her a blank look. “Right now?” “Yes,” she nodded, obviously wondering why I seemed so confused. “The principal already introduced you on the video and the other new teachers spoke… I thought someone let you know.” Nope. No one had let me know. And little did I know that I would be hearing that phrase a lot throughout the rest of the week.

This particular incident set the tone for what would turn out to be a very confusing and haphazard first day. I had planned to spend the first day with each class establishing a list of class rules. I figured this would allow me to gauge their level of English (the only thing I had been told was that it was “very low”), as well as help build an active and collaborative classroom environment. As I began to introduce this idea to my first class however, my Korean “co-teacher” for that class—whose job is essentially to help me with classroom management—took me aside and told me that the students had already established class rules last semester with their old English teacher. I was confused, because I was teaching a class of first year middle school students who I assumed were new to the school, until it occurred to me that fall must actually be the second semester for students at my school. This question was not, after all, something that I had thought to ask. I had simply assumed that the end of summer vacation marked the beginning of a new school year in the same way that it does at home in the States, and I imagine that I was never informed of by the principal or other teachers at my school that this is not the case because this format is the norm for them. So while I completely understand how such a misunderstanding could happen, and fully take responsibility for the fact that I did not research thoroughly enough into the South Korean public education system, the fact remains that I was nonetheless quite set back on my heels. I had to scrap my entire plan for the day and, instead, had the class review the rules that they had already made, lectured them a little about my expectations for the class—which I am fairly certain that most of them did not understand—and then played the “2 truths and a lie” activity that I had originally only planned to use to fill any extra time left over at the end of class. I fumbled through the rest of day in this way and managed to survive, but it certainly was not what I would consider getting off on the right foot.

Given that I have no training and very little experience relevant to teaching ESL to middle school students, virtually all that I have to rely on is my ability to build rapport with the students and to create a comfortable and safe learning environment for them-- so it was a particularly terrible feeling to be crippled in those areas from the very beginning. And as the week progressed, the enormity of my task started to sink in. I teach 22 classes (sometimes more) per week. Each of these classes consists of a different group of 40 students with whom I spend just one 45 minute period. This means that I have nearly 900 kids that I see in a week. Most of these kids are very afraid to make mistakes, and they either fear or resent English because such a heavy emphasis is placed on their English test scores here in Korea. And it is my job to lead them all in practicing English conversation using exercises from a text book.

As you can imagine, this situation presents a number of challenges: (1) 40 students is a huge number for a conversation class in which the kids are fighting me tooth and nail not to speak in English-- a large group activity is too big to keep everyone active, but if they are broken into small groups or pairs they immediately resort back to using Korean; (2) 45 minutes is no time at all with such a large group-- the kids barely get warmed up and then they have to leave; (3) the activities that I can try are restricted by text books that either (a) leave little room for much else or (b), by the admission of more than one of my co-teachers, are extremely boring; (4) building rapport with nearly 900 students when seeing them only once a week (and, of course, given factors 1-3) is going to be extremely difficult, if not impossible; (5) because factor 4 is such a struggle, and because students have already set patterns of behavior during their last semester together, classroom management is proving to be extremely difficult... and everyone knows how much I hate conflict as well setting myself as the "authority figure"-- it truly drains every bit of energy that I have; (6) I have 6 different co-teachers and, while I truly appreciate and genuinely like each of them (not a small thing by any means!), they do each have their own set of expectations and standards for the class that I have to take into consideration-- I am in charge of the content of the class while they are there to help with any misunderstandings as well as with classroom management, so having a supportive and engaged co-teacher is extremely helpful, but having a co-teacher for whom the kids have no respect is equally detrimental; (7) as I mentioned, the social pressure that is placed on these kids with respect to education, and particularly English education, is impossibly high-- Korea is a nation obsessed-- and this has a visible impact on my kids-- especially the 3rd grade (equivalent of 9th grade in the U.S.) students, who will soon be moving into the world of the Korean high-school, in which they will be expected to go to school from 8am-10pm, attend hagwon (private academy) until midnight, go home, complete their homework, get a few precious hours of sleep and get up to do it all again the next day; and finally, (8) schedules and information at my school is rarely conveyed ahead of time-- for instance I did not recieve my schedule until the day before classes began, and yesterday (Friday) I recieved an updated schedule which included two new classes for Monday. Details are almost never given, even in response to a specific question. I think this is a completely normal thing for Korean teachers and they are all used to working this way, but it has been a difficult adjustment for me as a new teacher not to really be able to plan details in advance-- it has left me feeling very out of control, which, as you can tell from all of the factors that I have just listed, I truly am.

And because of all of this, for the first few days of this past week, I went to work dreading each class. My time in the classroom was just so far from what I had envisioned as successful, and I could feel my energy depleting with every class period that went by. This feeling was discouraging to me and made me wonder how I could possibly survive an entire year this way, but more than that it made me really sad. My own disdain for class time felt immensely unfair to my students, who deserve to have a teacher who looks forward to the time that she is with them.

After a couple tearful conversations with some people very close to me, however, I have been able to shift my mindset a little. I certainly needed the opportunity to honestly voice my frustrations to a sympathetic ear, but now I am hoping that I will be able to move forward. The fact of the matter is that I have identified a lot of issues-- many of which I do not have the power to immediately resolve-- and the most I can do is to take that knowledge and work within the framework that I have been given to make the most of a situation that is less than ideal. I think I share this sentiment with almost every teacher out there-- I want what is best for the kids, so even while the system is making it difficult both for them to get the best and for me to give my best, my focus is to be on doing whatever I can for them, however small, for those precious 45 minutes every week. I can-- and already have-- found small ways, and little moments to break through with just a few students, and for now, that is going to have to be enough.