Last week's lesson in one of my classes was about Munch's The Scream. I question the intelligence of my curriculum designers when they devote an entire lesson to discussing the finer points of Existentialism with twelve year-old Korean students who barely speak enough English to order a pizza and get it delivered. A sample of how the day went:
Me: Ok guys, do you like this painting?
Student: Yes.
Me: Why?
Student: It's famous.
Me: Why do you think it's famous?
Student: Because it's good.
Me: Why is it good, what do you think makes it good?
Student: Because it's famous.
This went on for quite a while with me asking more and more specific questions to try and get some sort of personal reaction out of them. One student finally admitted to liking the colors. I consider that a victory. Later, one of our listening activities discussed the painting's representation of mankind's existential angst. That was about the end of the lesson for those kids. After that they just got all glossy-eyed. The idea of questioning existence is beyond the Korean mentality, especially at twelve. Another example:
Me: Why are we here?
Student 1: To study English.
Me: Haha, I know that, but why are you alive?
Student 2: Because my mother and father made me.
Me: Ok... good point. But what is your reason for being alive, why do you exist?
Student 1: I am not die. (a side note: most Korean students at this level substitute die for dead, which makes me laugh to no end. If they get detention, it's always, "Teacher, I am die.")
Me: That's true, otherwise it would be hard to study English. But why can you think and learn English and not, say, a rabbit or a fish?
Student 3: Rabbit and fish is food. So they is not think because I eat them.
Me: Did you know there are people who eat other people? So people can be food, too. Does that mean they cannot think?
Student 4: Aw teacher, no. People is not food.
This continued for about twenty minutes before I finally gave up trying to get them to think about their own existence. There is a very small box in Korea and anything outside that box is wrong, especially if it's not Korean. I've had students argue with me about the weather in my own home town, even if they've only just heard about it. The whole phenomenon is usually very funny, but can be frustrating as a teacher because there is such a shell to break through before they'll think critically about anything.
There is also rampant xenophobia/racism among many of my students. I've had eight year-olds tell me they hate the Japanese for what they did to Koreans more than sixty years ago. And when the swine flu panic hit Korea, they quarantined a slew of newly-arrived American English teachers in a hotel while the Korean teachers exposed were allowed to return home. SI is regarded widely as a foreigners disease. It was a similar case with the Mad Cow scare. When it was reported that a single cow in the U.S. might contain Mad Cow Disease six years ago, South Korea banned the import of U.S. beef. That ban is still in effect, even though there hasn't been a single case of Mad Cow in the U.S. since.
All of this has made teaching as a foreigner somewhat challenging, as the respect given me by my students is sometimes non-existent. However, when the chance arises to break through with one or several of the kids, it is hugely rewarding because I can see the light turn on behind their eyes as they really start to think about the world around them. Having tattoos has opened a lot of discussion because in Korea tattoos are only for gangsters and criminals. I actually had one student change classes because she (her parents) was afraid of me. Many of the rest of my students are fascinated by them, trying to erase them from my arms or pinching to watch the color move with the skin. One kid tried to add some color once with a highlighter marker.
Still, most of my teaching has been enjoyable, and most of the students, when they are just being kids and not trying to live up to the enormous expecatations put on them by their parents, are wonderful. I've loved getting to know them and watch them grow up. Especially little Jasmine, who pets me on the head and sticks her tongue out at me every time she walks by my classroom.
Me: Ok guys, do you like this painting?
Student: Yes.
Me: Why?
Student: It's famous.
Me: Why do you think it's famous?
Student: Because it's good.
Me: Why is it good, what do you think makes it good?
Student: Because it's famous.
This went on for quite a while with me asking more and more specific questions to try and get some sort of personal reaction out of them. One student finally admitted to liking the colors. I consider that a victory. Later, one of our listening activities discussed the painting's representation of mankind's existential angst. That was about the end of the lesson for those kids. After that they just got all glossy-eyed. The idea of questioning existence is beyond the Korean mentality, especially at twelve. Another example:
Me: Why are we here?
Student 1: To study English.
Me: Haha, I know that, but why are you alive?
Student 2: Because my mother and father made me.
Me: Ok... good point. But what is your reason for being alive, why do you exist?
Student 1: I am not die. (a side note: most Korean students at this level substitute die for dead, which makes me laugh to no end. If they get detention, it's always, "Teacher, I am die.")
Me: That's true, otherwise it would be hard to study English. But why can you think and learn English and not, say, a rabbit or a fish?
Student 3: Rabbit and fish is food. So they is not think because I eat them.
Me: Did you know there are people who eat other people? So people can be food, too. Does that mean they cannot think?
Student 4: Aw teacher, no. People is not food.
This continued for about twenty minutes before I finally gave up trying to get them to think about their own existence. There is a very small box in Korea and anything outside that box is wrong, especially if it's not Korean. I've had students argue with me about the weather in my own home town, even if they've only just heard about it. The whole phenomenon is usually very funny, but can be frustrating as a teacher because there is such a shell to break through before they'll think critically about anything.
There is also rampant xenophobia/racism among many of my students. I've had eight year-olds tell me they hate the Japanese for what they did to Koreans more than sixty years ago. And when the swine flu panic hit Korea, they quarantined a slew of newly-arrived American English teachers in a hotel while the Korean teachers exposed were allowed to return home. SI is regarded widely as a foreigners disease. It was a similar case with the Mad Cow scare. When it was reported that a single cow in the U.S. might contain Mad Cow Disease six years ago, South Korea banned the import of U.S. beef. That ban is still in effect, even though there hasn't been a single case of Mad Cow in the U.S. since.
All of this has made teaching as a foreigner somewhat challenging, as the respect given me by my students is sometimes non-existent. However, when the chance arises to break through with one or several of the kids, it is hugely rewarding because I can see the light turn on behind their eyes as they really start to think about the world around them. Having tattoos has opened a lot of discussion because in Korea tattoos are only for gangsters and criminals. I actually had one student change classes because she (her parents) was afraid of me. Many of the rest of my students are fascinated by them, trying to erase them from my arms or pinching to watch the color move with the skin. One kid tried to add some color once with a highlighter marker.
Still, most of my teaching has been enjoyable, and most of the students, when they are just being kids and not trying to live up to the enormous expecatations put on them by their parents, are wonderful. I've loved getting to know them and watch them grow up. Especially little Jasmine, who pets me on the head and sticks her tongue out at me every time she walks by my classroom.
odette:
odette:
but of course. i saw a reference to it on your profile.