On my second day in Luodong I began to meet the other foreigners in the area. Early on in every conversation, the question came up:
“Where do you work?”
My answer was met with a variety of reactions, none of them good. Flat out guffaws, head shakes and “Oh, that sucks...”
So under the circumstances you can imagine my response when a woman who owned a different kindergarten head-hunted me a week later.
I was at a local 'western-style' sports bar with some friends when a very chatty Taiwanese woman came to our table. Her English was excellent and she instantly took an extreme interest in me, asking where I was from, how I liked Taiwan and how I liked my job. I figured it was harmless to tell her the truth- that I loved my co-workers and the children, but I felt that it was unfair that we were only paid for the time we were actually standing in front of the class teaching when there was so much extra work to be done that we never got paid for. Only after about 30 minutes of chatting did it come out that she owned her own English kindergarten and was looking for another teacher. She gave me her card and I could tell she was excited, even though she tried not to be pushy. Before she left she bought our table two snack dishes and a round of drinks.
The job she was offering was salary- something I wasn't too pleased about until I spoke to the other foreign teachers who worked there. Their schedule was from 8:30 am until 4:30 pm, with a two hour break time in the middle. They were paid for meetings and class preparations, and though they were required to be there all day to work on other things (helping the kids get their lunches, helping to clean the classroom) they were only responsible for 3 actual in front of the class teaching hours per day. The salary was 60,000 a month- 30,000 taxed and 30,000 tax free that they would pay under the table (this is a common practice and helpful because tax for new foreign workers is 20% if you've been in the country for less than 183 days of the first year.) I was making about 57,000 per month at Hess, teaching 6.5 hours in front of the class per day. This other school was less by 3,000 nt after taxes, but the hours were so much better and it seemed much more chill. I'd also have some freedom to teach what I wanted to teach and slow down or speed up according to the children's level. I decided to go for it.
Part of what made the job so much more enticing than Hess was that we were paid for class planning and meetings. Like I said, when I was researching Hess I believed that I would be able to stay at Hess only the hours that I was teaching (4-6 hours a day) and the 20 minutes of unpaid preparation time before each class (which of course added up to another hour each day). What I wasn't prepared for was
a.) the meetings (at least one 1 hour meeting per week, scheduled a half hour after my class ended and in the middle of a break. The hour long meeting often stretched for longer than an hour, but sometimes would be less),
b.) homework and test grading – which was fine for my lower level classes but OH MY GOSH for my Step Ahead 12 class took at least an hour per class, 2 or 3 if there had been a test or quiz.
c.) 'communication books' in which I wrote a little blurb about each kid in my kindergarten class twice a month- Communication books were done for Jump every week, and the rest of the classes once every 3 months- which isn't so bad but really adds up – and always seemed to be due the day that you really wanted to get the heck out of there.
d.)Performance planning and preparation – more on this later.
e.) planning 'fun times' and art projects for kindy. There is a 45 minute 'fun time' every day- there is a 'fun time' book which outlines projects to do during this time, some of which are pretty great- only problem is my branch had decided that the 'fun time' materials were too expensive and refused to buy them. Of course they didn't tell us this outright- we just had to discover it for ourselves by requesting materials for a certain day and then...never receiving them, which could wreck havoc on class planning. Anyways I rarely looked at my fun time book after the first week- saved me the frustration of expecting materials that never came and of planning elaborate fun times in my free time.
if you wanted to do anything special for your kids (which if you're me you always want to do special things- those kids are great and when I had an idea that I thought would really help my class understand a new concept, it was nearly impossible for me to dismiss it- even if it took hours of my free time to prepare an activity or art project that I thought would help the kids.)
Planning REALLY helps classes run better. It just sucks to spend hours of blood, sweat and tears and never be compensated for them. I also often bought my own materials for the class if I had an idea that I couldn't resist doing. I never bothered to be reimbursed for buying these materials because my co-workers had tried and were met with the useful-in-every-awkward-situation taiwanese giggle.
“remember how I said I needed pipe cleaners for my kindy classes, and you kept saying you would buy them for me, and never did?”
“giggle giggle”
“And remember how I said I would go buy them myself, and you said I could and would be reimbursed?”
“Giggle giggle”
“Ummm, it was only 100 nt. Can I be reimbursed?”
“Giggle giggle giggle”
“I have the reciept right here.”
“Giggle...”
and so on.
the money never materialized.
I informed my manager at Hess that I wanted to leave, and he told me that I would be charged the 20,000 nt even though I was still in my first month of employment, because I was still staying in the country. Plus, I owed Hess 30,000 nt for the interest free loan I took out. I added up my meager funds and realized I could never make it. But I was so desperate to get out that I decided I would take a cash advance on my credit card to cover expenses.
Looking back, I absolutely wish i would have taken that other job. I had four friends who worked at that other school, and while they were often annoyed by their job, they never put up with the crazy crap that I put up with- and they always had more free time than I did and less stress.
It was my kindy kids. Those little rascals had been mine for 2 weeks and I was already completely in love with them. Also, my co-teacher was awesome. My friends kept telling me “Cami, the kids are cute everywhere- just go to the better job.” but I couldn't. As far as I could tell, all of my kids were brilliant and perfect and adorable, and though I only briefly met the kids at the other school, it was instantly clear that they were all average at best. I thought it over carefully and decided to ask James if they could go ahead and get a new NST, who could take most of my classes- And I would just continue to teach Kindy and maybe treehouse and jump. If I could just have a reduction of hours I knew I'd be okay, and it would benefit the branch because then they'd have less stress and another teacher available to sub. I was willing to give up as many hours as needed (I figured I could do some private tutoring on the side if I needed more money). I brought it up to James and he responded enthusiastically. I told the other school I wouldn't be working for them. James promised me that the new teacher would arrive in a month.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
New schedule and ambiguous communication
A month turned into two which turned into three. James was a saint and for a month of that time did not make me teach my night classes. But after a month I was back to teachign my crazy schedule and being at Hess for 10-14 hours 5 days a week. To be fair not all of that time was spent working, a good deal of it was spent staring miserably off into space. I wasn't doing any of the extra things I wanted to do- I wasn't surfing- ever. I wasn't writing, I wasn't studying chinese, I wasn't discovering Taiwan. Is that all Hess's fault? of course not. It was mostly a combination of culture shock and exhaustion- Hess wasn't responsible for the culture shock but they were responsible for the exhaustion. I'd often spend my two hour breaks driving 15 minutes home, taking a short nap, then driving back to Hess. Finally I found an empty classroom and would take naps on the floor.
This whole time they kept changing the date of when the new teacher would be arriving. Sucked to work a schedule I didn't want while I waited, but I still think it was really cool of them to be getting a new teacher at all- they easily could have fired me as soon as he came because I'd caused so much trouble but they didn't. That was pretty decent of Hess- though I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that my kindy kids and parents loved me.
Finally the new teacher arrived-he was in Taipei doing his initial training. Meanwhile, I had been asking what my new schedule would be- and was a little frustrated when no one would answer me. James took his usual route which was with-holding information that he thought would dis-please me. There was much speculation about which classes my new co-worker would take over. He would basically be taking a combination of my classes and Melissa's classes. It was frustrating not to be able to get a straight answer- I'm pretty sure that my students and their parents knew, I knew that the Taiwanese staff knew- but I could only ask James, who wouldn't tell me. I had to do my own detective work to find out my new schedule.
Turned out that I would be losing two of my night classes, TreeHouse and Jump- meaning I would work from 2-4 then 6:40 till 8:30 Monday, then 8:30-11:30 am Weds Thurs Fri and 6:30 till 8:40 on Friday. AWESOME!!!! Yes, it was not exactly what I wanted (I would have liked to keep Jump and Tree house and lose my night classes, or take another Kindy class and ditch treehouse and jump), but I was so stoked. I felt like my life in Taiwan was about to begin!!!
If only I could get that Friday night class moved to Tuesday....
Hess night classes are two nights a week for the kids- one of those nights, the foreign teacher teaches, one night, the Taiwanese teacher teaches. On the days that the foreign teacher teaches, the Taiwanese teacher is still in the room. The kids and the Taiwanese teacher were there on Tuesday and Friday nights- so would it matter much if I changed my Friday night to a Tuesday?
I thought about it carefully. I'd already pissed off all of the management at Hess. Should I still ask for this one more thing? I finally decided I'd ask my Taiwanese co-teacher if she would mind changing days. Since we were the two people that the change would effect, I thought this was the best idea. It helped that she was the manager of all of the Taiwanese teachers- She had a little more clout and her word would go further with management.
I asked her and she didn't mind at all. I asked her if she would talk to our boss and she said yes. Later that day she told me I could go ahead and mark the change on my schedule, which was on the wall.
I drew an arrow from Friday to Tuesday. I couldn't have been happier.
the next day I came in and the arrow was crossed out and next to it someone had written the words “Can't be changed”. I asked the Taiwanese manager if she had done it and she looked surprised. She hadn't.
I wrote “Why not?” on my schedule and went to teach a class.
When I came out, my co-worker, Melissa, told me that she had heard James and the branch manager discussing the schedule change.
“He really went to bat for you,” she said, “He told the branch manager that it wasn't you who wanted the change, it was your co-teacher, and he said that it didn't matter what day you taught. I think you're going to get to change that night.”
After my night class, I went to talk to James.
He told me that the schedule couldn't be changed and I would have to teach from 8:30am to 11:30am on Friday, go home then come back to teach from 6:40 till 8:30.
Maybe I should have just let it go, but I thought about how great it would be to get that changed.
“Why?” I asked James.
“Right off the top of my head I can think of at least 7 reasons why it's better if you teach this class on Friday instead of Tuesday. You know, when you work at a company, sometimes it's nice to do a really good job for six months or so, and then, you know, if all of your classes are going well maybe you can request the schedule you want...”
James launched into one of his patented lectures. James is really a nice guy- sometimes he could talk a lot though, always dancing around the answers that you really wanted to know. I had learned that I just needed to sit there and wait for him to finish, then ask a question and pay attention really hard. Sometimes, if I really concentrated, I could see a glimpse of an answer to my question wrapped up in his 10 minute answer. I think if I had just met James on the street I would have thought he was a nicer than average guy and really liked him. In a management capacity, though, we were less than compatible. I just want a freaking answer when I ask a question. James seemed to pad his answers with so much other fluff that I could never tell what he was getting on about. Also he would negate everything he said- for example, once I asked how much help we should give children during an oral test, and whether or not we should dock points if they needed help. I then sat through hemming and hawing for 20 minutes from which I gathered that his answer was,
“You should help them enough but not too much and of course you have to dock points if you have to help them but not really cause learning a second language is really hard and you don't want to be harsh when grading cause it will upset their parents. But of course their scores should reflect what they really know.”
This is a fine answer I suppose but it took forever to get it and all I wanted to hear was, “Deduct half a point for every time you have to help them and every grammar mistake they make.” or something like that.
sigh.
So when James was finished telling me that I really ought to have a little more consideration for the company I worked for by not asking for what I really wanted, I said.
“You said there were like 7 reasons why I couldn't change my Friday class to Tuesday. Can you explain a couple of them just so I understand?”
I really was trying to understand. I really thought maybe there was a compelling reason.
I listened for a long time and here's what I gathered.
“Well. It's not good for a teacher to teach so many classes in one day. It can make them tired.”
(but changing my Friday class wouldn't make me work any more hours in one day than they had wanted me to work 5 days a week.)
“And what if someone needs a substitute on Tuesday? Then where would we be?”
(if someone needed a substitute on Tuesday then I could sub for them and the co-teacher could teach my Tuesday class and I could teach it for her on Friday that week.)
And from what I could gather those were the 7 reasons. Both of them didn't make any sense.
My suspicion now is that they (upper management? James? Taipei main office? I still don't know who they were) were trying to show me that I couldn't get what I wanted just by being obnoxious- I needed to fall in line and work hard to get what I wanted. Between them not telling me directly what my new schedule was and this needless stab at behavioral modification I kind of felt like Hess was treating me like a child. Why couldn't we both just be honest about what we wanted? How much of this lack of clear communication was James and how much of it was just Hess's bizarre corporate culture?
Let me re-iterate that James, though frustrating to me personally, was not a bad guy. As far as I could tell, his failure was simply trying too hard to be a good manager- and by definition he was caught between the higher management and us teachers. He was constantly taking one for the team, telling me bad news about what they wanted and telling them bad news about what I wanted.
To me he pretended to be on the side of upper management. To upper management he pretended to be on my side (or so it seemed from what my co-workers had overheard). I don't know what he really thought (except perhaps that I was a pain in the ass) and I don't know if he even knew what he really thought.
Poor James.
(incidentally he resigned as manager a month after I quit. I feel badly for the trouble I caused him. I was always fond of telling him, “If they paid me a million new taiwan dollars an hour it still wouldn't be enough for me to do your job.” to which I got a rare glimpse of his true emotions when he said, “I'm not making that much more than you are.”)
This whole time they kept changing the date of when the new teacher would be arriving. Sucked to work a schedule I didn't want while I waited, but I still think it was really cool of them to be getting a new teacher at all- they easily could have fired me as soon as he came because I'd caused so much trouble but they didn't. That was pretty decent of Hess- though I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that my kindy kids and parents loved me.
Finally the new teacher arrived-he was in Taipei doing his initial training. Meanwhile, I had been asking what my new schedule would be- and was a little frustrated when no one would answer me. James took his usual route which was with-holding information that he thought would dis-please me. There was much speculation about which classes my new co-worker would take over. He would basically be taking a combination of my classes and Melissa's classes. It was frustrating not to be able to get a straight answer- I'm pretty sure that my students and their parents knew, I knew that the Taiwanese staff knew- but I could only ask James, who wouldn't tell me. I had to do my own detective work to find out my new schedule.
Turned out that I would be losing two of my night classes, TreeHouse and Jump- meaning I would work from 2-4 then 6:40 till 8:30 Monday, then 8:30-11:30 am Weds Thurs Fri and 6:30 till 8:40 on Friday. AWESOME!!!! Yes, it was not exactly what I wanted (I would have liked to keep Jump and Tree house and lose my night classes, or take another Kindy class and ditch treehouse and jump), but I was so stoked. I felt like my life in Taiwan was about to begin!!!
If only I could get that Friday night class moved to Tuesday....
Hess night classes are two nights a week for the kids- one of those nights, the foreign teacher teaches, one night, the Taiwanese teacher teaches. On the days that the foreign teacher teaches, the Taiwanese teacher is still in the room. The kids and the Taiwanese teacher were there on Tuesday and Friday nights- so would it matter much if I changed my Friday night to a Tuesday?
I thought about it carefully. I'd already pissed off all of the management at Hess. Should I still ask for this one more thing? I finally decided I'd ask my Taiwanese co-teacher if she would mind changing days. Since we were the two people that the change would effect, I thought this was the best idea. It helped that she was the manager of all of the Taiwanese teachers- She had a little more clout and her word would go further with management.
I asked her and she didn't mind at all. I asked her if she would talk to our boss and she said yes. Later that day she told me I could go ahead and mark the change on my schedule, which was on the wall.
I drew an arrow from Friday to Tuesday. I couldn't have been happier.
the next day I came in and the arrow was crossed out and next to it someone had written the words “Can't be changed”. I asked the Taiwanese manager if she had done it and she looked surprised. She hadn't.
I wrote “Why not?” on my schedule and went to teach a class.
When I came out, my co-worker, Melissa, told me that she had heard James and the branch manager discussing the schedule change.
“He really went to bat for you,” she said, “He told the branch manager that it wasn't you who wanted the change, it was your co-teacher, and he said that it didn't matter what day you taught. I think you're going to get to change that night.”
After my night class, I went to talk to James.
He told me that the schedule couldn't be changed and I would have to teach from 8:30am to 11:30am on Friday, go home then come back to teach from 6:40 till 8:30.
Maybe I should have just let it go, but I thought about how great it would be to get that changed.
“Why?” I asked James.
“Right off the top of my head I can think of at least 7 reasons why it's better if you teach this class on Friday instead of Tuesday. You know, when you work at a company, sometimes it's nice to do a really good job for six months or so, and then, you know, if all of your classes are going well maybe you can request the schedule you want...”
James launched into one of his patented lectures. James is really a nice guy- sometimes he could talk a lot though, always dancing around the answers that you really wanted to know. I had learned that I just needed to sit there and wait for him to finish, then ask a question and pay attention really hard. Sometimes, if I really concentrated, I could see a glimpse of an answer to my question wrapped up in his 10 minute answer. I think if I had just met James on the street I would have thought he was a nicer than average guy and really liked him. In a management capacity, though, we were less than compatible. I just want a freaking answer when I ask a question. James seemed to pad his answers with so much other fluff that I could never tell what he was getting on about. Also he would negate everything he said- for example, once I asked how much help we should give children during an oral test, and whether or not we should dock points if they needed help. I then sat through hemming and hawing for 20 minutes from which I gathered that his answer was,
“You should help them enough but not too much and of course you have to dock points if you have to help them but not really cause learning a second language is really hard and you don't want to be harsh when grading cause it will upset their parents. But of course their scores should reflect what they really know.”
This is a fine answer I suppose but it took forever to get it and all I wanted to hear was, “Deduct half a point for every time you have to help them and every grammar mistake they make.” or something like that.
sigh.
So when James was finished telling me that I really ought to have a little more consideration for the company I worked for by not asking for what I really wanted, I said.
“You said there were like 7 reasons why I couldn't change my Friday class to Tuesday. Can you explain a couple of them just so I understand?”
I really was trying to understand. I really thought maybe there was a compelling reason.
I listened for a long time and here's what I gathered.
“Well. It's not good for a teacher to teach so many classes in one day. It can make them tired.”
(but changing my Friday class wouldn't make me work any more hours in one day than they had wanted me to work 5 days a week.)
“And what if someone needs a substitute on Tuesday? Then where would we be?”
(if someone needed a substitute on Tuesday then I could sub for them and the co-teacher could teach my Tuesday class and I could teach it for her on Friday that week.)
And from what I could gather those were the 7 reasons. Both of them didn't make any sense.
My suspicion now is that they (upper management? James? Taipei main office? I still don't know who they were) were trying to show me that I couldn't get what I wanted just by being obnoxious- I needed to fall in line and work hard to get what I wanted. Between them not telling me directly what my new schedule was and this needless stab at behavioral modification I kind of felt like Hess was treating me like a child. Why couldn't we both just be honest about what we wanted? How much of this lack of clear communication was James and how much of it was just Hess's bizarre corporate culture?
Let me re-iterate that James, though frustrating to me personally, was not a bad guy. As far as I could tell, his failure was simply trying too hard to be a good manager- and by definition he was caught between the higher management and us teachers. He was constantly taking one for the team, telling me bad news about what they wanted and telling them bad news about what I wanted.
To me he pretended to be on the side of upper management. To upper management he pretended to be on my side (or so it seemed from what my co-workers had overheard). I don't know what he really thought (except perhaps that I was a pain in the ass) and I don't know if he even knew what he really thought.
Poor James.
(incidentally he resigned as manager a month after I quit. I feel badly for the trouble I caused him. I was always fond of telling him, “If they paid me a million new taiwan dollars an hour it still wouldn't be enough for me to do your job.” to which I got a rare glimpse of his true emotions when he said, “I'm not making that much more than you are.”)
Sunday, February 8, 2009
15 minutes in the life of a Hess Kindergarten Teacher
So after 4 months of struggle, I finally had the schedule that I thought would work for me at Hess!!! I had 15.5 hours a week- but I usually was at Hess MOnday and Tuesday from 1:40 till 9 or so, then Weds, Thurs, and Fri from 8:40 till 1 or 2.
Sure I was working a couple of hours for free a day, but I'd finally accepted that this was part of teaching and the kids were worth it to me. If this had been it and there were no other problems I think I would have stayed for the whole year at Hess. But they had some more tricks up their sleeves.
I wish someone had told me before I came to Taiwan what the day to day teaching would actually be like. I don't know what I had pictured but I do know that it was different from anything I'd imagined. The day to day teaching in kindergarten was pretty great.
By the time I arrive at the branch in the morning, all of the other foreign teachers and Taiwanese staff are already there and I wonder, for the 487th time, whether they sleep here at night- because they were all here at 9:00pm when I left. I snag my co-worker Melissa by the sleeve as she passes.
“Hey Melissa,” I say, “I've got a head-ache that's killing me today- I know it's my turn, but could you lead exercise time again?”
Melissa looks at me, her eyes full of compassion--- and she laughs.
“Yeah right,” she says.
We both turn to the exercise room, trying to talk quietly on the way there, but apparently not quietly enough. Our students, who are lined up in wonderfully straight lines, eyes toward the stage, perfectly silent and well-behaved, somehow sense our presence.
Melissa's students, who are older and a bit better behaved (what can I say, class-room management has never been my strong suit), simply turn and fall out of formation, and begin to yell her name enthusiastically.
“Teacher Melissa Teacher Melissa Teacher Melissa!”
“Well Hello Lion Class Good Morning! How Do You Feel Today?!” says Melissa, putting her 'Teacher Melissa' smile on.
My students, on the other hand, begin to sprint toward me, screaming “Teacher Cami!!!”. No child should possibly be able to run as fast as they do. They are like leopards. I turn and flee, but soon have to stop because I feel the first set of chubby little arms wrapped around my legs. Soon I am mobbed and can feel my body begin to sway dangerously. I am pulled thunderously to the ground by my little midgets, and I can only hope to land in such a way as to not maim anyone. Through the window between Harrison's hands, which are clasped around my hair, and Alisha's forehead, as she tries to kiss my cheek, I look up to see the face of my Taiwanese co-teacher, Emily. I am only too aware that my role as 'fun teacher' forces her to play the role of 'tough teacher', and while I feel bad about it I'm not sure how to change it. I shrug at her and try to convey my apologies (it must have taken some work to get the kids lined up this morning), she grins and laughs. That woman is a SAINT.
I disentangle myself and usher the kids back into line. Brian, our third and final foreign teacher, looks up at me from wiping a child's nose.
“You got the music?” he asks.
“Oh shit,” I say. Quietly.
I run into my classroom and riffle through the box next to the cd player. Do I want to use a Hess music CD? Only if I want to send us all to the loony bin. Should I use the new CD I burned last week which has yet to be approved by the management? Only if I want to lose my job. Finally I land on a cd that looks unfamiliar. It must be kids songs because why else would it be in my classroom? It'll have to do. I rush out to the stage just as the clock ticks to 9. I throw the CD at Brian and jump onto the stage.
“What track numbers?” hisses Brian.
“Choose your favorites!” I hiss back, then I turn to the students, “GOOD MORNING MUNCHKINS!” I fairly scream.
“GOOD MORNING TEACHER CAMI!!!” they howl back.
“SHOULD WE SAY GOOD MORNING TO TEACHER BRIAN?!” I yell.
As the students are screaming 'good morning Teacher Brian' Brian gives a happy wave then turns to me, his face grave.
“What do you mean my favorites, I don't even know what's on this CD!”
“Just choose your favorite numbers,” I tell him, “WHAT ABOUT TEACHER MELISSA?!” I scream to the students.
The chorus goes on until we've greeted all of the teachers.
“HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?” I ask the students. They all scream, “I FEEL ____!” There is a jumble of 'excited's and 'happy's and 'angry's, mixed in with a couple of 'crazy's, which was my personal contribution to their emotion vocabulary.
“WHAT DAY IS TODAY?” I shout, trying to ignore Brian, who is rolling his eyes at me. I know I'm never prepared, but I'm also above average at ad-libbing.
“ARE YOU READY FOR THE DANCE PARTY?” I yell.
The kids answer in the affirmative and we're off.
With none of us knowing quite what to expect, Brian hits play on the CD player.
The first notes float into the air and the children fly into a frenzy. I laugh with recognition. It is the insane medley of songs I had picked out for the Christmas play that my students performed. All of the students have heard the song many times because I played it ad nauseum while practicing the performance, and I can tell they're excited to finally dance to the songs that they had heard so often.
Most songs that we sing have a set set of actions so that the children can easily recognize and remember the words. Because I don't have a set set of actions for these songs, the children watch me carefully and mimic everything I do. Their English is still rudimentary, but at ages 2-7, these kids mimicking skills defy reality. It's kind of fun to watch an entire room of nearly 100 kindergärtners copying your actions. I begin leaping acrobatically about the stage, only to stop moments later because the children are bouncing into each other. It's only 9:07 and we've already got several criers. I try to tone it down a little and rotate between marching, running in place, doing jumping jacks, and otherwise trying to come up with actions to the words of the songs. The children don't miss a beat, and soon little groups are splintering off and running around excitedly, only to be chased down by the Taiwanese teachers and put back into their places.
Brian keeps looking up at me and laughing. Brian's got a wicked laugh that always makes me feel better through-out the day. Seriously I don't think I could have taken all the insanity without my awesome co-workers. Brian was also my cohort during meetings- every time a new and ridiculous Hess requirement came up we would kick eachother under the table or we could just look at each other and know the other one was laughing. Thank god for Brian and Melissa (not actually their real names)
During the bit of the medley dedicated to a Beach Boys song, I take this opportunity to educate my students about my favorite hobby, surfing. I lie on my belly and show them how to paddle then pop up. We repeat this several times, which adds significantly to the numbers of criers who are now huddled around the Taiwanese staff because they were kicked in the face or hit by a flailing arm. The voice of my manager floats into my head, “Cami, you've got to learn to calm your class down- I know they're having fun but when they have fun people get hurt.” I try to decide whether to ignore his voice or to heed it. I ignore it. The mayhem continues. I am sweating like a pig.
The song ends. It is now 9:10. My body temperature is soaring. I'm tempted to rip my shirt off to air out. Though I have many obvious personality flaws that should disqualify me from teaching, Brandi Chastain style stripping at moments of triumph isn't one of them. The shirt stays on though I'm sweltering.
I begin to speak in a soothing, albeit loud voice. The children begin to quiet down, and I can see them trying to decipher what I'm going on about. I make the international sign for “sit your asses down and be quiet” which consists of repeatedly raising and lowering my arms, palms down, accompanied by a look of desperate consternation. The children sit down- they are amazingly quick, and if there's one benefit to being the 'fun teacher' it's that the students love to please me and be praised by me. I point out some of the students who are doing as I ask.
“Oh look at Judy, see how she's sitting so quietly and so nicely?” I say to the group. Judy lurches up and launches herself into my arms like a miniature canon-ball. She nods at the group solemnly. I bounce her a few times then set her carefully down. I sit myself and continue to speak soothingly.
“Now, seat yourself in full-lotus or half-lotus position, whichever is most comfortable to you.” I say, assuming full-lotus and setting my hands upon my knees, “Now close your eyes.”
The kids know what is coming and are already giggling drunkenly.
“Oooooooooooohmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” they chant, “Ooooooooooooohmmmmmmm.”
And this may be the only moment of peace they have until they fall limply exhausted onto their pillows at nap time.
I open my eyes and look from face to face. Some of the children are already opening their eyes and giggling at me. God I love these kids.
“Now point at your crazy little heads,” I say, pointing at my own, “and say, 'I am ready to learn today.'”
The children say it then collapse into giggles. Finally they line up and are dismissed.
It's 9:15 and I already feel like I'm about to pass out from exhaustion. I do it to myself.
I face my little monkey class, who, with the help of Emily the super-teacher, are lined up.
“Attention!” I shout.
“ONE TWO,”
“Attention!”
“ONE TWO!”
“Hands behind your-”
“BACKS!” they shout, hands neatly folded behind their back.
“Alan, are you number one?” I ask.
Alan nods proudly.
“What do you want to be?” I ask him.
“A frog!” he shouts.
“Let's be frogs!” I say.
My class leaps and ribbits all the way to the classroom.
Sure I was working a couple of hours for free a day, but I'd finally accepted that this was part of teaching and the kids were worth it to me. If this had been it and there were no other problems I think I would have stayed for the whole year at Hess. But they had some more tricks up their sleeves.
I wish someone had told me before I came to Taiwan what the day to day teaching would actually be like. I don't know what I had pictured but I do know that it was different from anything I'd imagined. The day to day teaching in kindergarten was pretty great.
By the time I arrive at the branch in the morning, all of the other foreign teachers and Taiwanese staff are already there and I wonder, for the 487th time, whether they sleep here at night- because they were all here at 9:00pm when I left. I snag my co-worker Melissa by the sleeve as she passes.
“Hey Melissa,” I say, “I've got a head-ache that's killing me today- I know it's my turn, but could you lead exercise time again?”
Melissa looks at me, her eyes full of compassion--- and she laughs.
“Yeah right,” she says.
We both turn to the exercise room, trying to talk quietly on the way there, but apparently not quietly enough. Our students, who are lined up in wonderfully straight lines, eyes toward the stage, perfectly silent and well-behaved, somehow sense our presence.
Melissa's students, who are older and a bit better behaved (what can I say, class-room management has never been my strong suit), simply turn and fall out of formation, and begin to yell her name enthusiastically.
“Teacher Melissa Teacher Melissa Teacher Melissa!”
“Well Hello Lion Class Good Morning! How Do You Feel Today?!” says Melissa, putting her 'Teacher Melissa' smile on.
My students, on the other hand, begin to sprint toward me, screaming “Teacher Cami!!!”. No child should possibly be able to run as fast as they do. They are like leopards. I turn and flee, but soon have to stop because I feel the first set of chubby little arms wrapped around my legs. Soon I am mobbed and can feel my body begin to sway dangerously. I am pulled thunderously to the ground by my little midgets, and I can only hope to land in such a way as to not maim anyone. Through the window between Harrison's hands, which are clasped around my hair, and Alisha's forehead, as she tries to kiss my cheek, I look up to see the face of my Taiwanese co-teacher, Emily. I am only too aware that my role as 'fun teacher' forces her to play the role of 'tough teacher', and while I feel bad about it I'm not sure how to change it. I shrug at her and try to convey my apologies (it must have taken some work to get the kids lined up this morning), she grins and laughs. That woman is a SAINT.
I disentangle myself and usher the kids back into line. Brian, our third and final foreign teacher, looks up at me from wiping a child's nose.
“You got the music?” he asks.
“Oh shit,” I say. Quietly.
I run into my classroom and riffle through the box next to the cd player. Do I want to use a Hess music CD? Only if I want to send us all to the loony bin. Should I use the new CD I burned last week which has yet to be approved by the management? Only if I want to lose my job. Finally I land on a cd that looks unfamiliar. It must be kids songs because why else would it be in my classroom? It'll have to do. I rush out to the stage just as the clock ticks to 9. I throw the CD at Brian and jump onto the stage.
“What track numbers?” hisses Brian.
“Choose your favorites!” I hiss back, then I turn to the students, “GOOD MORNING MUNCHKINS!” I fairly scream.
“GOOD MORNING TEACHER CAMI!!!” they howl back.
“SHOULD WE SAY GOOD MORNING TO TEACHER BRIAN?!” I yell.
As the students are screaming 'good morning Teacher Brian' Brian gives a happy wave then turns to me, his face grave.
“What do you mean my favorites, I don't even know what's on this CD!”
“Just choose your favorite numbers,” I tell him, “WHAT ABOUT TEACHER MELISSA?!” I scream to the students.
The chorus goes on until we've greeted all of the teachers.
“HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?” I ask the students. They all scream, “I FEEL ____!” There is a jumble of 'excited's and 'happy's and 'angry's, mixed in with a couple of 'crazy's, which was my personal contribution to their emotion vocabulary.
“WHAT DAY IS TODAY?” I shout, trying to ignore Brian, who is rolling his eyes at me. I know I'm never prepared, but I'm also above average at ad-libbing.
“ARE YOU READY FOR THE DANCE PARTY?” I yell.
The kids answer in the affirmative and we're off.
With none of us knowing quite what to expect, Brian hits play on the CD player.
The first notes float into the air and the children fly into a frenzy. I laugh with recognition. It is the insane medley of songs I had picked out for the Christmas play that my students performed. All of the students have heard the song many times because I played it ad nauseum while practicing the performance, and I can tell they're excited to finally dance to the songs that they had heard so often.
Most songs that we sing have a set set of actions so that the children can easily recognize and remember the words. Because I don't have a set set of actions for these songs, the children watch me carefully and mimic everything I do. Their English is still rudimentary, but at ages 2-7, these kids mimicking skills defy reality. It's kind of fun to watch an entire room of nearly 100 kindergärtners copying your actions. I begin leaping acrobatically about the stage, only to stop moments later because the children are bouncing into each other. It's only 9:07 and we've already got several criers. I try to tone it down a little and rotate between marching, running in place, doing jumping jacks, and otherwise trying to come up with actions to the words of the songs. The children don't miss a beat, and soon little groups are splintering off and running around excitedly, only to be chased down by the Taiwanese teachers and put back into their places.
Brian keeps looking up at me and laughing. Brian's got a wicked laugh that always makes me feel better through-out the day. Seriously I don't think I could have taken all the insanity without my awesome co-workers. Brian was also my cohort during meetings- every time a new and ridiculous Hess requirement came up we would kick eachother under the table or we could just look at each other and know the other one was laughing. Thank god for Brian and Melissa (not actually their real names)
During the bit of the medley dedicated to a Beach Boys song, I take this opportunity to educate my students about my favorite hobby, surfing. I lie on my belly and show them how to paddle then pop up. We repeat this several times, which adds significantly to the numbers of criers who are now huddled around the Taiwanese staff because they were kicked in the face or hit by a flailing arm. The voice of my manager floats into my head, “Cami, you've got to learn to calm your class down- I know they're having fun but when they have fun people get hurt.” I try to decide whether to ignore his voice or to heed it. I ignore it. The mayhem continues. I am sweating like a pig.
The song ends. It is now 9:10. My body temperature is soaring. I'm tempted to rip my shirt off to air out. Though I have many obvious personality flaws that should disqualify me from teaching, Brandi Chastain style stripping at moments of triumph isn't one of them. The shirt stays on though I'm sweltering.
I begin to speak in a soothing, albeit loud voice. The children begin to quiet down, and I can see them trying to decipher what I'm going on about. I make the international sign for “sit your asses down and be quiet” which consists of repeatedly raising and lowering my arms, palms down, accompanied by a look of desperate consternation. The children sit down- they are amazingly quick, and if there's one benefit to being the 'fun teacher' it's that the students love to please me and be praised by me. I point out some of the students who are doing as I ask.
“Oh look at Judy, see how she's sitting so quietly and so nicely?” I say to the group. Judy lurches up and launches herself into my arms like a miniature canon-ball. She nods at the group solemnly. I bounce her a few times then set her carefully down. I sit myself and continue to speak soothingly.
“Now, seat yourself in full-lotus or half-lotus position, whichever is most comfortable to you.” I say, assuming full-lotus and setting my hands upon my knees, “Now close your eyes.”
The kids know what is coming and are already giggling drunkenly.
“Oooooooooooohmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” they chant, “Ooooooooooooohmmmmmmm.”
And this may be the only moment of peace they have until they fall limply exhausted onto their pillows at nap time.
I open my eyes and look from face to face. Some of the children are already opening their eyes and giggling at me. God I love these kids.
“Now point at your crazy little heads,” I say, pointing at my own, “and say, 'I am ready to learn today.'”
The children say it then collapse into giggles. Finally they line up and are dismissed.
It's 9:15 and I already feel like I'm about to pass out from exhaustion. I do it to myself.
I face my little monkey class, who, with the help of Emily the super-teacher, are lined up.
“Attention!” I shout.
“ONE TWO,”
“Attention!”
“ONE TWO!”
“Hands behind your-”
“BACKS!” they shout, hands neatly folded behind their back.
“Alan, are you number one?” I ask.
Alan nods proudly.
“What do you want to be?” I ask him.
“A frog!” he shouts.
“Let's be frogs!” I say.
My class leaps and ribbits all the way to the classroom.
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