A Day in the Life of a Fake Teacher in the Real China
24 Jan 2010 Leave a Comment
in Teaching Tags: education, favors, gao kao, journey, private schools
One day I found myself squealing like a pig in front of children. I pushed my nose up, grunted, and oinked. We were playing a simplified version of charades. It was a Sunday afternoon in the bleak of January. And this being China, it was bleaker than bleak. The dean of my university had loaned me out to a private high school as a “favor.”
My latest rendition caught the students’ attention. Girls stopped texting and boys ceased roughhousing long enough to look up and shout “pig!” in unison. I asked the teacher if they’ve played this game before, adding, “They’re very confident.” Either the blood of Shakespeare coursed through my veins or the children were very smart.
I spent the next ten minutes striking curious poses. I shapechanged into a frog, duck, and cow. By some feat of thaumaturgy, I even managed to turn an ordinary seat into a flying bicycle, which I rode around the room. But the archfiend boredom was in the room as well. It stalked the children. One by one they fell prey it. I wondered if I could win their hearts and minds back if I showed them the wonderfullest trick of all – the coffin trick. That is escaping from a coffin after it had been nailed shut.
The Journey Began
05 Sep 2009 Leave a Comment
in Teaching Tags: Drama, dreams, Literature, nightmares, private schools, public schools, Teaching
Reality Laid Somewhere Between Daydreams and Nightmares
I got out of bed at dawn Wednesday. It had been restless night spent thinking about all the clever things I would say to make students wonder if I was some reincarnated Confucius in disguise. I had spent the last few days losing track of time in a kaleidoscopic tour of Chinese culture and hospitality. And I had spent the nights of that last disorienting week of summer vacation dealing with nightmares about the first day of class. These nightmares had nothing in common with my daydreams. In them I was continuously lost in labyrinthine hallways, losing my books despite fruitless nightlong search and rescue missions, and showing up in class naked. Teachers all over the world were having similar nightmares.
That morning I ran around the campus and fried eggs with cilantro and chilis and cooked oatmeal for breakfast. I listened to a podcast on teaching literature and recited poetry to warm-up my vocal cords. Then I put on my best pressed out clothes, slid into a pair of spit shined brown leather shoes, and double-checked that I had everything I needed to teach my first lesson. I advanced confidently in the direction of my dreams with a book of Tang poetry in both hands, breathing deeply to harness the power of qi for the long day’s journey ahead.
