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.
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