I like my job. I don't have a real job. I've covered this, but I'll reiterate: I sit on my ass, try to look pretty, and talk sometimes. That said, I take it seriously. Some of the kids really like me. In turn, I really like some of my students. I learn a lot about Korea through them, and hope that I make them feel positively about Canadians in return. Yet, with the good comes the bad. Today I got to start my day off with a taste of The Bad.
My first class on Mondays is an introductory level course. I have 4 students, 3 of whom sort of suck. By "sort of suck", I mean are pains in my ass. The student that I like in that class is actually the least skilled with English; but he's respectful and listens. Frankly, that's all I ask for. The other three speak out of turn, speak Korean (which is a no-no during English class), point at me and laugh... basically, they do whatever they feel like doing. I'd sort oflike to tape them to the wall, but that would probably make me a bad teacher. And maybe result in my getting arrested. This would actually make for a good enough story that it's almost worth doing it. Hmmm. I'll ponder the idea.
I was walking into the building for my 3pm class when my group of little brats comes running at me, yelling "teacher! teacher!" Two of them have food in their hands, which they promptly wave at me, asking "you want?!?!" I'm about to respond to this when they put the food in their mouths, suck on it, and pass it back my way, screaming "you want?! you want?!" again. I was a little annoyed at their idiocy, but was willing to let it pass with a simple "don't do that, it's rude", presuming they followed me to class and shut the fuck up. Two of them have some concept of what is good for them and did just that.
And then there was "Kevin". "Kevin" decided that it would be fun to continue waving food in my face, sucking on it, and then waving it back in my face. I advised him to come towards the door where I was standing so that I could lecture him on not being a pain in my ass. He looked at me, held his arms in front of his body and crossed them, and yelled "noooooooo!" This went on for about another 15 seconds before he finally got up, turned his back to me, and wiggled his butt. Yes, this actually happened. One of my students shook their ass at me when I was attempting to gain control. I had two choices at this point. Snap that little brat in half, or slam the door on the entire class and go find a Korean teacher to deal with this. I chose the latter option.
After slamming the door in front of the brat pack, I storm back to the office in search of a Korean coworker who can crush this little bitch's soul for me. Thankfully, I have really awesome coteachers, who don't think it's even remotely cool when the kids are rude to me. The woman who works the office was the only one available. When I made her aware of what was going on, she marched to my classroom before I could even finish the story. By the time I made it in behind her, she was giving the entire class a tongue lashing to remember. At least it would have been memorable had I any clue what on earth she was saying. Whatever it was, it worked. The little brat was afraid to speak for a good half hour after she left. I even started calling on him more often because I liked watching him squirm. Twerp.
Being a foreign teacher here is a bit of a double edged sword. On one hand, you're super fucking special. So beautiful! So handsome! On the other hand, some people here don't respect you as much because you are a foreigner. These are often the same people that get plastic surgery in order to look more like you. Nobody ever said that ignorance made sense. Regardless, there are idiots everywhere, so I don't let it bother me most days. Just leave it outside of my fucking classroom and you're golden.
My work day could have had a better beginning. Perhaps this was punishment for having a wee bit too much fun on the weekend? Nah. My day rebounded quite nicely from this only a few minutes after that class. One of my favourite students ran up to me in the hall and made some gesture with his hands, smacked his thigh, then walked off. I called him back to inquire as to what the heck he had just done. Given the treatment I had received an hour earlier, I was skeptical of any child that happened to look in my general direction. He repeated his hand signal and said "hip hop!", pumped his fist in the air, then danced down the hallway. And with that, an 8 year old totally made my day.
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