...and then there are these days.
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas.
Friday, December 26, 2008
There are dead horse days...
...and then there are these days.
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Christmas with dead horses
There are days when I believe that teaching English in Thailand bears many similarities to whipping a dead horse.
At the end of the day, the only one who is frustrated, exhausted, and emotionally spent is you.
As Christmas day looms closer, I can' t help but think about all of the things I'd rather be doing this 'holiday' season...
I want to walk through Chernobyl forest with Drew and Tom, still in my pajamas.
I'd like to hear my mom yell at me to come fix/type some mundane thing on her computer.
I want to feel the weight of my newly born niece in my arms and kiss her sweet (and assuredly) plump cheeks.
I want to run outside, into Christi's arms before she's barely stepped out of her car.
I want KC to ask me to fix her make-up so that we can have a faux fashion shoot by the pool.
I want to stay up until 3 am watching movies in the basement of the Millay house.
I'd like to hear Joshie yell out 'Starflakes!' as he rushes down the stairs to wrap his arms around me.
I want to surprise Moryeo in his office and thank him for everything he's done in the last few weeks.
I want to chase T around the house, trying to hug and kiss her in the way that oh-so annoys her (but secretly, I know she loves...)
I want an omelette at Café Patachou with Mr. Tom, Tom, and Drew (if he managed to wake-up for once...).
I want to be surrounded by friends underneath the dim lights of Cheesecake Factory.
I want to be home.
I want to be with you.
I don't want to be whipping.
The.Horse.Is.Dead.
Some days.
At the end of the day, the only one who is frustrated, exhausted, and emotionally spent is you.
As Christmas day looms closer, I can' t help but think about all of the things I'd rather be doing this 'holiday' season...
I want to walk through Chernobyl forest with Drew and Tom, still in my pajamas.
I'd like to hear my mom yell at me to come fix/type some mundane thing on her computer.
I want to feel the weight of my newly born niece in my arms and kiss her sweet (and assuredly) plump cheeks.
I want to run outside, into Christi's arms before she's barely stepped out of her car.
I want KC to ask me to fix her make-up so that we can have a faux fashion shoot by the pool.
I want to stay up until 3 am watching movies in the basement of the Millay house.
I'd like to hear Joshie yell out 'Starflakes!' as he rushes down the stairs to wrap his arms around me.
I want to surprise Moryeo in his office and thank him for everything he's done in the last few weeks.
I want to chase T around the house, trying to hug and kiss her in the way that oh-so annoys her (but secretly, I know she loves...)
I want an omelette at Café Patachou with Mr. Tom, Tom, and Drew (if he managed to wake-up for once...).
I want to be surrounded by friends underneath the dim lights of Cheesecake Factory.
I want to be home.
I want to be with you.
I don't want to be whipping.
The.Horse.Is.Dead.
Some days.
Monday, December 15, 2008
All I want for Christmas is...
YOU! A Christmas with my family and my dear friends.
But since I'm quite unlikely to get that, I thought I'd share all the things (plausible and not) I'd be crossing my fingers for this Christmas season IF I weren't about 10,000 miles away...
Books (in no particular order)
1. Christ the Lord - The Road to Cana: Anne Rice
2. My Sister's Keeper: Jodi Picoult
3. East of Eden: John Steinbeck
4. The Namesake: Jhumpa Lahiri
5. Love in the Time of Cholera: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
6. One flew over the Cuckoo's Nest: Ken Kesey
7. One Hundred Years of Solitude: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
8. The Alchemist: Paulo Coelho
9. The Poisonwood Bible: Barbara Kingsolver
10. Cancer Ward: Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
11. A Farewell to Arms: Ernest Hemingway
12. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress: Robert A. Heinlein
13. The Once and Future King: T.H. White
14. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead: Tom Stoppard
15. 100 Love Sonnets - Cien sonetos de amor: Pablo Neruda, Stephen Tapscott (Translator)
Everything Else:
1. A new laptop (and dare I say it... a Mac.)
2. A new camera
3. New shoes for school
4. New clothes for school
5. Clothes in general
6. A Television (just so I can watch my DVDs on it)
7. DVDs of Dexter (season 1) and Nip/Tuck (season 4)
8. Money
9. 16 GB new Ipod Nano (Purple of course...)
10. Many many bottles of Aveeno Clear Complexion face wash/facial moisturizer
11. And of course...World peace.
But since I'm quite unlikely to get that, I thought I'd share all the things (plausible and not) I'd be crossing my fingers for this Christmas season IF I weren't about 10,000 miles away...
Books (in no particular order)
1. Christ the Lord - The Road to Cana: Anne Rice
2. My Sister's Keeper: Jodi Picoult
3. East of Eden: John Steinbeck
4. The Namesake: Jhumpa Lahiri
5. Love in the Time of Cholera: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
6. One flew over the Cuckoo's Nest: Ken Kesey
7. One Hundred Years of Solitude: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
8. The Alchemist: Paulo Coelho
9. The Poisonwood Bible: Barbara Kingsolver
10. Cancer Ward: Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
11. A Farewell to Arms: Ernest Hemingway
12. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress: Robert A. Heinlein
13. The Once and Future King: T.H. White
14. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead: Tom Stoppard
15. 100 Love Sonnets - Cien sonetos de amor: Pablo Neruda, Stephen Tapscott (Translator)
Everything Else:
1. A new laptop (and dare I say it... a Mac.)
2. A new camera
3. New shoes for school
4. New clothes for school
5. Clothes in general
6. A Television (just so I can watch my DVDs on it)
7. DVDs of Dexter (season 1) and Nip/Tuck (season 4)
8. Money
9. 16 GB new Ipod Nano (Purple of course...)
10. Many many bottles of Aveeno Clear Complexion face wash/facial moisturizer
11. And of course...World peace.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Tuesday
I am no teacher.
Sure, I masquerade all day in the requisite skirt and blouse, with homework sheets piled under one arm and workbooks in the other hand but... I am no teacher.
But, you learn. I've learned. In all honesty, for me teaching has never demanded a similar intellectual intensity to my years spent slaving away at University. However, I've found that some days have the effect of an emotional battering ram.
Some days the students love me, some days there's not much I can do to keep them from acting like deranged monsters. Nevertheless, now that it has been six months (unbelievable), most of my students and I have worked out an easy medium. Sure, there are the ones whom I love to death and then the ones that require a bit more effort...but with most of them I seem to have a relatively smooth and uncomplicated relationship.
Except for this one group of M2 (8th grade) boys.
At first I was sweet teacher, then I was pissed-off teacher. I ran the gamut of personalities and emotions but they have remained hellions. As a result, over the last few weeks of classes, I've done something that the teachers I have most admired and cared for would never do... I gave up on them. I quit pushing, I quit trying to make them better, quit caring if they learned...if they passed...if they understood. Other than the occasional censure, I carried on with that class as if they never existed.
I am not a teacher. I lack whatever that spark is that allows for one to press on in the face of disrespect and non-compliance.
Tuesday.
For a second, while the other students were busy at work, my haze of apathy was split when I noticed that one of the Hellions was cradling a football underneath his feet...an American football (which is almost non-existent here in Thailand...they don't even show the games in pubs here but they show rugby... go figure). I motioned over with my head towards the ball and the conversation kind of went like this...
Me: So...I see you have a football.
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: So...you play football?
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: American football? (duh Star...)
Hellion #1: Yes
Hellion #2: Me too Teacher.
Me: Really? So...where'd you learn to play?
Hellion #2: America (what a smart kid)
Me: Hmm... any good?
Hellion #1 & #2: No/Yes (they glare at each other)
Me: So...can you throw the ball?
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: I mean like a spiral (demonstrate with finger)...not just throw it.
Hellion #2: (attempts to toss it to the boy behind him.... badly) *quick laugh* no...
Me: ah...pity (haze slipping back on...head turning back towards the desk)
Hellion #1: Teacher Star, can you play?
Me: Me? Oh, I love football, plus I have family in the NFL.
Hellion #2 & 3 & 4: Ooooohhh
Hellion #1: (pause...quick conference with the other boys) Teacher Star, okay I throw it to you.
Me: Say wha?
Hellion #1: I throw it to you okay?
Me: ...
Entire class: Come on Teacher Star
Me: erm...okay, one throw (walk slowly to corner diagonal to student)
Hellion #1: (throws it...quite a beautiful spiral)
***The class is quite enthralled at this point, they go even more insane when I actually catch the thing***
Me: hmm...not bad, here you go (I send back a gorgeous throw...silent thanks to my brother and all of those childhood, nighttime games of touch football)
***The classroom roars...there's no work being done today now***
***We toss the ball back and forth a couple of times, throwing it just a little bit harder and faster each time, until finally, Hellion #1 throws it too high and it ends up ricocheting against several walls***
At this point, I run back to my desk and everyone settles in as if nothing had happened. Thirty seconds later, the teacher from the next room peeks her head in (taking in my *hard-working and silent* children) and asks me if everything is alright and if the children are behaving. I struggle not to laugh and manage to convince her that I hit my chair against the wall when I last stood up. She leaves and the students peek up from their books, their gazes caught between mirth and wariness... obviously waiting for a sign as to how they are meant to react to the debacle.
I smile. I giggle.
The class erupts into conversation. Numerous hands cup imaginary footballs and sail them across the room, re-creating the day's momentary, unexpected adventure. But eventually, the Hellions are back in their pack, inattentive and isolated from the remainder of the classroom. But just before I settle into my seat, they glance back at me. I meet their gaze. They smile. I smile back.
Bbbbrrrring. That's it for class today. See you next week.
Sure, I masquerade all day in the requisite skirt and blouse, with homework sheets piled under one arm and workbooks in the other hand but... I am no teacher.
But, you learn. I've learned. In all honesty, for me teaching has never demanded a similar intellectual intensity to my years spent slaving away at University. However, I've found that some days have the effect of an emotional battering ram.
Some days the students love me, some days there's not much I can do to keep them from acting like deranged monsters. Nevertheless, now that it has been six months (unbelievable), most of my students and I have worked out an easy medium. Sure, there are the ones whom I love to death and then the ones that require a bit more effort...but with most of them I seem to have a relatively smooth and uncomplicated relationship.
Except for this one group of M2 (8th grade) boys.
At first I was sweet teacher, then I was pissed-off teacher. I ran the gamut of personalities and emotions but they have remained hellions. As a result, over the last few weeks of classes, I've done something that the teachers I have most admired and cared for would never do... I gave up on them. I quit pushing, I quit trying to make them better, quit caring if they learned...if they passed...if they understood. Other than the occasional censure, I carried on with that class as if they never existed.
I am not a teacher. I lack whatever that spark is that allows for one to press on in the face of disrespect and non-compliance.
Tuesday.
For a second, while the other students were busy at work, my haze of apathy was split when I noticed that one of the Hellions was cradling a football underneath his feet...an American football (which is almost non-existent here in Thailand...they don't even show the games in pubs here but they show rugby... go figure). I motioned over with my head towards the ball and the conversation kind of went like this...
Me: So...I see you have a football.
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: So...you play football?
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: American football? (duh Star...)
Hellion #1: Yes
Hellion #2: Me too Teacher.
Me: Really? So...where'd you learn to play?
Hellion #2: America (what a smart kid)
Me: Hmm... any good?
Hellion #1 & #2: No/Yes (they glare at each other)
Me: So...can you throw the ball?
Hellion #1: Yes
Me: I mean like a spiral (demonstrate with finger)...not just throw it.
Hellion #2: (attempts to toss it to the boy behind him.... badly) *quick laugh* no...
Me: ah...pity (haze slipping back on...head turning back towards the desk)
Hellion #1: Teacher Star, can you play?
Me: Me? Oh, I love football, plus I have family in the NFL.
Hellion #2 & 3 & 4: Ooooohhh
Hellion #1: (pause...quick conference with the other boys) Teacher Star, okay I throw it to you.
Me: Say wha?
Hellion #1: I throw it to you okay?
Me: ...
Entire class: Come on Teacher Star
Me: erm...okay, one throw (walk slowly to corner diagonal to student)
Hellion #1: (throws it...quite a beautiful spiral)
***The class is quite enthralled at this point, they go even more insane when I actually catch the thing***
Me: hmm...not bad, here you go (I send back a gorgeous throw...silent thanks to my brother and all of those childhood, nighttime games of touch football)
***The classroom roars...there's no work being done today now***
***We toss the ball back and forth a couple of times, throwing it just a little bit harder and faster each time, until finally, Hellion #1 throws it too high and it ends up ricocheting against several walls***
At this point, I run back to my desk and everyone settles in as if nothing had happened. Thirty seconds later, the teacher from the next room peeks her head in (taking in my *hard-working and silent* children) and asks me if everything is alright and if the children are behaving. I struggle not to laugh and manage to convince her that I hit my chair against the wall when I last stood up. She leaves and the students peek up from their books, their gazes caught between mirth and wariness... obviously waiting for a sign as to how they are meant to react to the debacle.
I smile. I giggle.
The class erupts into conversation. Numerous hands cup imaginary footballs and sail them across the room, re-creating the day's momentary, unexpected adventure. But eventually, the Hellions are back in their pack, inattentive and isolated from the remainder of the classroom. But just before I settle into my seat, they glance back at me. I meet their gaze. They smile. I smile back.
Bbbbrrrring. That's it for class today. See you next week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)