Chemicals, bribes, and basketball: Dealing with my wild classrooms

My co-worker and I have a small problem.  Small is the key word here, as she is all of 5'1 and 90 lbs (or whatever the corresponding skinny weight is for 5'1).  I'm not short (5'8, which, according to my mother is an inch under model height.  Such a promising career ruined...), but I'm a pale, boney, unintimidating thing.  Between the two of us, we lack the ability to instill terror into classes filled with students who are taller and larger than at least one of us.

This wouldn't be a problem in most of our classes, but - as every public school teacher here will confirm - there's always one class, (in my case, entire grade), that will test your limits in a way you haven't experienced since your one roommate in college who ate your food and played underground Finnish rock music to ease their bouts of insomnia.  The reason a teacher will undoubtedly have a difficult class, is because classes are made up of children, and children are like chemicals; some are benign, some smell nice and are useful, a few are toxic, yet containable on their own, but:

It's never a good idea to randomly throw together a bunch of chemicals in a confined space.

In some cases the combinations don't turn out too badly - the reactions are energetic but not malignant, and as long as the scientist (teacher) is in control, nothing too terrible happens.  And that's the end of my overly extended chemical metaphor.

Basically my 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades are all decent classes.  Some classroom management is required, and the old tricks work.  In these classes, we positively reinforce good behavior with games: Each table is a team, and each team gets points for good behavior (and loses points for bad behavior).  When enough points are racked up among the teams, the class gets to play a justhappenstobefilledwithtodaysvocabulary game.

My 5th graders practicing English.  Yes.





We also use various techniques for quieting the children - clapping sequences, phrases (if one of us says "Eyes on me", all the students shout back "Eyes on you!"), and even a bell.  Punishments include making a rowdy student stand in the corner, having students write sentences (in English), and intense, emotionally manipulative lectures frequently doled out by my co-teacher in Korean which scare even me (even though I have no idea what she's saying).

Ah, but our sixth graders are another matter.  They're little hellions who have no respect for the wonder that is the English language (or its messengers).  We use all the same techniques, but never effect a permanent change.  And yes, I know that SH's and my statues/genders shouldn't make a difference if we have good technique, but we're both brand new teachers - while we figure out discipline, it wouldn't hurt to have muscles and a moustache to tide us over on the respect front. 

Our current tactic with the sixth graders is similar to a method of defense my basketball team used in high school. Most of the time, we played man-to-man defense, meaning that each of us was assigned one player to guard. However, when we played a fairly decent team with one superstar player, we would double team her - assign two players to cover her at all times.  This strategy really works when there's one player making the majority of the points.  My sixth grade classroom is a similar situation - there is often only one student or table who really disrupts the class (and stir the others up).  So I personally double team him - instead of walking around the class and keeping tabs on everyone, I hover at his table.  I wouldn't be able to do this without a co-teacher (hard to simultaneously hover and teach), and I'm extremely thankful to have one.

**

Despite what you may have read, corporal punishment is not an option in public schools in Korea.  At least, not in mine or anyone else I've met.  I haven't researched this, but I imagine some legislation was passed within the past few years. 

Though there is no corporal punishment, the physical relationship between teachers and students here is much different than in the States.  Both co-workers who I have had, have been (in my opinion) extremely touchy with the students.  This includes rubbing shoulders and hair and play wrestling.  A 5th grade boy gave my co-teacher a shoulder massage one afternoon, and asked if I wanted one too.  They were both surprised at my immediate refusal.  Massage is not a boundary teachers can cross in the States.

**

Likelihood that they are changelings aside, I actually love all my students, including the sixth graders.  It's hard to actually hate a kid, especially over something as human as a bad attitude towards authority.  I don't believe in working at a job that I don't enjoy (yes, a middle class privilege, I know), and I wouldn't enjoy teaching if I didn't like my kids.  I also wouldn't enjoy teaching if I didn't have a sense of humor about it.

So, anyone have any tips for classroom management?  (Keeping in mind that I can't use my words, and my lectures generally consist of: "You (point at student) talk (make talking motion with hand) too much (big hands).  You must listen (point at ears).  No more talking. (shut hands).")

I love my third graders.

 

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Days 14-21 -- Snippets of life

My  current goal, now that I'm living on my own, is to avoid getting scurvy  from lack of fruits and vegetables in my diet. I am quite susceptible  to these sort of illnesses, if playing Oregon Trail  as a child taught me anything. (Cholera and river crossing are  also up there on my nemesis list. They destroyed many a wagon party, though the thrill of writing epitaphs did offset the death thing. Much like real life.) 

In accordance with my don'tgetscurvy goal, I bought a sheaf of bananas this weekend.  Bundle. Bunch. Right.  I bought them even though I don't like bananas because they  taste like baby food and turn to instant mush in your mouth. No resistance. I like a bit of attitude from my meals. Also, my brother used them as torture tools when we were younger. To sum up: I don't like bananas.   Did that stop me from buying eight of them when I saw they were on sale  at SmMart? (Actual name of store.)  Nope.  So this week has been a frantic montage of me trying bananas with various side dishes to avoid ending up with  eight black bananas. (Which wouldn't be so bad if my toaster oven decided both the top and bottom of things and I could make banana  bread). I can now commiserate with my ex-roommate who was always talking about how accomplished she felt when she finished off her  groceries. They can hang in your consciousness like a to-do list...

Korean food from my first outing in Seoul. They're big on side dishes.

My classroom

And now, a glimpse into the life of my classroom.  I hope to write on each topic in more detail in separate posts, so think of this as an appetizer.

I teach four grades (3rd to 6th) which approximately comes to 300  students per week. (30 students per class, two classes in 3rd and 4th, three classes in 5th and 6th).  Our classroom is pretty cute – decorated with English phrases and matching photos (I’ll post pictures soon), and there are six tables with six chairs.  Each table is a Team, and each place at the table is one of six countries – America, Japan, China, Korea, England, Canada.  The country places are the same at each table (ie. the first two chairs across from each other are U.S. and Korea, and so on), so that if I want to call a student, I can say “Team 6, Canada” based on where they’re sitting.

 

Initially I was a little hesitant to embrace the seating system, as I had lofty goals of learning every single student’s name. Yes. I don’t really know what I was thinking (except I do, because part of me still has that goal.)  It's really hard to remember names when a) you can't pronounce them, b) you can't read them properly c) every student has three.  They have two short first names and a last name which you say first.  When I first heard the name of Kim Jong-Il's son, (Kim Jong-Un), I thought it was funny that they were trading one dictator for another with the same name. But really, only the last name is the same, and it's not weird that the first names are similar. In the western world, we name kids exactly after their fathers (Ralph Smith Jr. etc.)

Right.

After three weeks in the classroom, I know exactly one and a half students’ names.  The half is a girl whose name I know, but I’m uncertain as to precisely which girl she is. The other name I actually know is the name of a trouble maker in 3^rd grade who had a 15 minute standoff with Young Rak during our first lesson (which ended in Young Rak having to physically move him back to his desk).  And the only reason I actually remember his name is because it’s very similar to the name of a Korean girl from my high school.

We seat the children according to skill levels, mixing the advanced students with the lower ones.  It cracked me up when Young Rak informed me that America and Korea were the smart students at every table. Well, why not? :)  The levels are quite varied which is daunting.  When I went around the classroom during reading and writing activities, I discovered that some students don’t have a grasp on basic phonics (what sound does “s” make? etc.) A few of my sixth graders couldn’t write the alphabet on the initial assessment test.  These are the kids I want to sit with privately and help for a few hours, but that’s not possible.

And then there are the kids who finish their tasks within a couple of minutes. Unfortunately, these advanced ones aren’t always the quiet ones, so it can get disruptive. Still, these are the kids I want to work with privately to see how far they can get.  Basically I have a lot of private tutoring urges.  Sigh.  

Also, as a teacher, it’s interesting to be able to appreciate the various personalities of my kids. I adore my shy, introverted, sweethearts because they are lovely respites to my wild kids.  But then, I love my outgoing kids too.  They keep the class on its toes, and add a bit of life to what could be a boring subject. I’m not here to lecture – I’m here to interact.

The reality of my job

I have to remind myself that learning a language isn’t exciting for most kids. Appreciation of the importance of culture and language often seems to be much more developed with maturity. I myself regret not taking advantage of my childhood countries to study Arabic in an immersed surrounding. Plus, in high school I (and many people) put in the least amount of effort that was required to get me a good grade.  This works with many subjects, but isn’t a great language learning approach – it’s one thing to have a list of grammar rules or vocab memorized; it’s another to dedicate yourself to practicing and reading and understanding the language.  My kids don’t dedicate themselves to English: because they’re kids. The practical applications of English aren’t immediate to them in their environment.  How many people do you know who can barely speak a few phrases of the language they spent years studying in high school?

Though many of my kids don’t know basic grammar and phonics, they have still managed to learn the important stuff.  Ie. : “Do you have a boyfriend?”  When I said yes, they giggled manically – naturally – and stumbled over themselves trying to ask me more questions. “Korea?” No.  He’s not here. Or Korean. Whatever you’re asking. 

And the climax – one girl pointed at me: “You!?” She stopped, accosted by the language barrier. Finally she mimed a veil and started singing what sounded like a wedding march.

“No. I’m not married.”  They laughed hysterically again.  Naturally.

When my new co-teacher arrived – and she is simply adorable, more on that later – she let the kids have a Q&A with her.  It was all in Korean, but judging from the English words she wrote on the board as she was answering the questions, these are her stats:

1)      She is above 20, under 100. (Actually she’s 22 American age, 24 Korean age, but I liked her answer).

2)     Favorite color: White. (I have a slight beef with that, but I’m dealing :) )

3)     Blood Type: A. (Yes, they asked her this in every class. I guess that’s just information people know about themselves here. I don’t know mine, but I definitely should.)

4)     Favorite animal: Snake. (Well she just had “snake” written, with Korean next to it, so it could be one of her fears. hmmm.)

5)     Height: Above 120, below 200. (I had to ask her about these numbers later as I had no idea what the >120, <200 could be referring to. Oh, I now know my height in cm: 172)

6)      IQ: 13_ (Is this another commonly known fact here?)

And of course they asked if she had a bf or was married.  She told them no, when in fact she actually does have a boyfriend.

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

“Because then they would laugh.”

Ahh. Right. Well played.

Playing games

I’ve really enjoyed myself thus far in the classroom. The kids – though they aren’t crazy about English – love to play games and are willing to engage in the lessons.  Every now and then I cringe over small mistakes that SH, my new co-worker, makes. For example, we played a categorized memory game in which the kids pass the ball to each other and whoever catches the ball says “I like _____ “  The next person has to say “I like _____ (what the last kid said) and _______”

For example:

Kid 1: “I like Britney Spears.”

Kid 2: “I like Britney Spears and Michael Jackson.”

Kid 3: “I like Britney Spears, Michael Jackson, and Abba.”

Etc. (Except when we did the category of singers they did a bunch of Kpop bands).

The first round of the game, we used the category of fruit.  SH taught it to them with the fruits in singular form.  She gave them the example of “I like apple. I like banana. I like orange,” and wrote a bunch of singular fruits on the board. It was painful to listen to everyone say the sentences, but it was SH’s first day of teaching and she had planned everything. I didn’t want to interrupt and correct her in front of the kids, and I justified it to myself with these thoughts “Well at least they're getting some of the vocabulary” and “They could be talking about flavors of ice cream. I like peach, I like grape, etc.”

And, unfortunately, when I finally tried to correct SH later, she didn’t understand what I was saying (but she sounded like she did) so the next classes said the exact same sentences. 

All in all, though, it's been a grand old time.  I make a lot of corny jokes that nobody understands, and a few that they do.

Me: "Repeat: 'I'm from Korea.' "

Kids: "I'm from Korea."

Me: "I'm from Japan."

Kids: "I'm from Japan."

Me: "I'm from America."

Kids: "I'm from America."

Me: "No you're not! I'm from America! Not you! Hahahahaha."

Kids: (Look at each other confused. Some try to repeat after me. Some laugh.)

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