Got 눈치?

눈치 (nunchi, pronounced noon-chee,) is a complex concept inextricably woven into the Korean everyday. You can go here to read a little about it. I like that somebody mentioned paralinguistics in the post. However, I had to remove an idiot's product placement in the first paragraph and citing himself from a stupid book about Korean culture. I hate when people do that--and, go figure, the link was dead anyway. I'm only going to discuss my experience with nunchi in this post. I'm not going to go into tone of voice or social status and attempt to be objective about it. That would be impossible. I like to leave that sort of cultural anthropology for the colonialist social critics and tourists. There's blogs-a-plenty of haters and fetishists out there who love to oversimplify the Korean everyday. I try not to. Moreover, there's no need to address such things. When it comes to nunchi, some people have it and some people don't.

When I first arrived in Sillimdong (신림동,) Seoul, I lived in a neighborhood with few foreigners. That's not true. Very few native-English-speaking foreigners lived near me. My neighborhood has a diverse group of foreigners because of Seoul National University and a large Asian immigrant community. I spent most of the first two-months with my colleagues and the neighborhood friends I played soccer with on Saturdays. I think I was so fed up with the United States I only ventured out for social interaction with other foreigners once or twice. I hadn't studied the language before moving here, so I relied on my wits and desire to fit in to get by. Many days were lonely trials.

One of the concepts I learned about was nunchi because I was praised for having it. That's a good thing: you don't want to hear nunchi eopda (눈치 없다) used to describe you and your behavior. Unfortunately, you either have this or you don't. I know many foreigners believe you can learn it. If you don't have good nunchi, you can learn how to perform it, but we all know the difference. And my Korean friends seem to recognize the people who possess it as part of their ethos (habit and character). If you have to perform it at the right times, you're faking it.

I first learned about what this meant after going out on my first five or six weekends with my soccer team--I play with an all Korean team on Saturdays and nobody speaks English--and with teachers to hike and to learn about the neighborhood. To be honest, I had a blast figuring out who to sit with, how to play with, how to eat and drink with my new friends. I first thought this was nunch: doing the right things at the right times. Iquickly learned that was not it at all.

I think I first heard about my nunchi after a younger teammate who takes care of the club's money insisted I need not contribute because I was a guest. I told him I wanted to be a member and shouldn't receive special treatment. He didn't understand me and simply left me with my money. I had to out-insist him. I succeeded a little later after we were all good and drunk. I have paid dues ever since. It's important to note that I decided to pay without them hinting that maybe I should. I believe to this day they'd permit me to play as a guest and without paying dues. I had to make the decision and be consistent. But to do that only would be a performance, wouldn't it? There's something about the way I communicated wanting to be with them that they appreciate in addition to my decision to pay dues, and that's much more difficult to convey right now.

The insistence to pay is one thing I think many foreigners simply do not understand and find easy to oversimplify, as is the obligation to go out with colleagues. There's a lot of literature out there, many videos, many blogs about how to know when to pay and when to attend, but they're almost every one of them over-generalized and stereotypical nonsense. I suppose this misinterpretation of complex social fabric is understandable. People want some concrete statements about what to do and what not to do. Yet, I wonder.
Westerners love to understand others. Understanding others is part of our bigoted colonialist character. It's part of manifest destiny for US citizens, for sure. I hate it. I disavow it. We get a kick out of saying that we know what something means. We get a super-kick out of dominating foreign scenes as expats. I find it rather obscene, to be honest. I think this disavowal in connection with the way I want to participate is the key to my nunchi. I don't have to think about it.

I'll give you an example of what I mean. I was the first Native Speaking English Teacher (NSET) to teach at my school. I was brought here because the school wanted an experienced teacher. I was all-but-dissertationed from University of Denver and had been teaching since 1999. So, they got me. Nobody at my school was good at speaking English. (That's changed now, the younger English teachers are quite apt and, frankly, I'm no longer needed here.) The first year, my co-teachers were substitute teachers who'd never co-taught before. However, I had one helpful, permanent co-teacher who went out of her way to try to accommodate me and advise me about learning to fit into the faculty and culture of the school.

My school is tough. It's a poor school with poorly performing students many of whom will not attend university out of high school. They'll go to open university, I suppose, but that's not a very respectable thing here. The students are not happy and not interested in my class. I don't blame them. My school is proof that Korea is hurting for educational reform. My conversation class and speaking tests only add to students' English-language study load. They're already frightened about the future. I'd say 60% of the students like me but feel oppressed when I enter their classroom.

When I first arrived at school, the English faculty held many meetings to figure out my role here and our roles together. Nobody spoke English, so everything had to be translated. When we disagreed, the translation could cause trouble because comments were often accidentally and, sometimes, willfully misinterpreted. I once said, "Let's put the students' needs before teachers' desires" when referring to use of the only room with functioning technology and it was translated, I'm not kidding, as "Gary says we're incompetent."

I had to be patient. I had to be willing to take some abuse. (That willfully awful translation of my critique is what I'd call stubborn abuse, but after a little reflection, I recalled my experience as a faculty member in college and university English departments where such complaint is common, sometimes insulting, yet permitted as a way for colleagues to vent. It's permitted there. Why should it not be permitted in Korea?) My closest co-teacher and I came up with an idea that we called "Korean Time". We'd have our meetings. I'd appear in the first part and speak about my classes, lessons, complaints and/or questions. They'd respond. Then I'd leave and permit them Korean Time: time to talk according to their style about work and scheduling without my presence, which can be oppressive. Imagine having to explain yourself all the time to a person who thinks differently about your tasks than you and your colleagues do. Why it's like the government placed a white person in your school just to insist you justify your underpaid and overworked presence each and every day. I understand the contempt. I don't like it, but I get it.

It might sound silly, but it worked. And that's possessing nunchi. They needed not for me to go away or take unearned criticism but for me to understand that my presence really alters their working environment and, though it might pain me to admit, it wasn't necessary and it wasn't useful. It's sounds simple, but being able to publicly acknowledge that I'm not the center of their universe worked wonders. And many NSETs insist as a rule that they are the center of Korea's universe.

I know a lot of NSETs who'd disagree with my interpretation. I worked with a woman at a junior high school summer camp who routinely screamed at our Korean colleagues after common confusions. She didn't and still doesn't, I'm sure, possess nunchi. But she does have (as do her partner and their friends, yes I'm dishing,) plenty to say about Korea and Koreans. By the way, there is a time and a place for screaming in Korea. And I've had my fair share of tirades. You just have to do it properly. But that's for another post.

I don't know why I'm thinking about this right now. Maybe it's because I resigned from my position and will leave my school in August. I'm taking a year off to finish my novel and defend my dissertation before attempting to locate work in an English department at a university here, well anywhere. (Though I'm happy to say that Korean university folks have already shown interest. With a little patience, I'll have a nice position here and I continue to study the language and live in the US when I'm not teaching. Home for vacation and Away for work is a nice proposition.)

I think I'm going to miss my school and my neighborhood, too. We'll be moving to a different part of Seoul. Sillimdong and my high school were very good to me. It's not the hip part of Seoul. It's gritty and dirty. The working people around here are pushy, but I love it. They permitted me to fit in, which is more than I can say for the segregated neighborhoods I lived in back home where difference is shunned and severely beaten down as a rule of citizenship. For all the cries of nationalism I hear in foreigner discussions about Korea and Koreans, I've been welcomed much more sincerely here than in most place in the United States.

Of course, the reason I'm welcomed is that, for some unknown reason, I've got nunchi. I know how to act without having to perform. I know: I'm bragging. Fuck it. I've earned it.

John Boehner, Resentment, White Power

Young people and Unions are destroying America with their Xboxes and Facebooks and 40-hour work weeks and a living wage. It’s the typical old guy rant, right? Wrong. This is repressed resentment bubbling to the surface from a guy who believes he’s in a safe position of power from which to speak about his real beliefs.

Can any of you tell me what a typical white conservative man’s rant about youth culture and privilege has to do with our President?  Because John Boehner’s rant to Matt Taibbi begins about those lazy good for nothing kids and ends with a shot at our President.

John Boehner would be funny if he wasn’t such a typical representation of smug white power.  Reading the selections Matt Taibbi has released ahead of his upcoming story, you’re likely to feel Leader Boehner feels pretty secure in his job and his status in his community.  That is, until you read what he says about President Obama: “Don’t get me started on health care- doctors study their entire lives and they barely make enough to live and yet Obama, who had his entire life handed to him on a silver plate wants to cut their pay.”  You might well wonder what about Obama’s life Boehner is talking about?

Boehner is a once-poor white guy who is not ever going to be secure in his wealth and status.  He has, like many successful white conservatives, tied his success to his whiteness, what many of these guys refer to as “the way I was raised,” and guys like Obama, who are more successful and more progressive than he is, and importantly, not white like he is, have had life handed to them because they cannot possibly have worked as hard as his folks did and he has to find success in life.

And I’m going to be frank here. Boehner is from Cincinnati, Ohio, and was born in Reading. He is from blue collar roots in southwestern Ohio. I can tell you from experience, that part of the country is rife with white resentment of progressive culture and with  black Americans in particular. It’s a very racist place to this day. For some reason, even liberal whites from that region have a weird desire to stand up for the white culture there, often claiming they’re misunderstood. (See, Mississippi and South Carolina.)

I’m not calling Boehner a racist—just that his rant is typical white-people-talk in that part of the country.

In addition, we should be wary of Boehner’s poor personal opinion of places like Community Colleges.  As we all know, community colleges are where many non-traditional higher ed. students find access to mainstream success.  Community colleges have helped more than I can express in a blog post.  For Boehner to choose the community colleges to slight shows just how invested he is in the white power line.  He sees them as places that basically reward lazy poor people and illiterates with degrees so they can make more money than they deserve, so they can work above their station.
It’s vile stuff this white resentment. It serves nobody to ignore it.

Writing to our leaders works.  If what Boehner says pisses you off, you should let him and other politicians know about it.  Send him a note.  Send your Rep a note.  Encourage them to speak out on behalf of students and unions.

The Right to Assemble & Speak & Distribute Information

From The Boston Globe, "SKorean police arrest 4 people over G-20 protests." (I'll try to get out and snag a few photographs of protests and other activities in the next few days and during the summit.)



The G20 looms in Seoul and Koreans will show up in thousands to protest.  There will likely be hundreds of arrests and as many news stories about the protests and arrests--as many as will be published about the political and corporate interests that are represented at the Summit itself.

I think we should remember what's at stake as Korea and Koreans continue to become more significant to the global capitalist market: Korean well-being. For me the highlight of this G20 Summit is the Korean people who have accomplished so much in the last 40 years yet continue to struggle with the cultural impact and realities that a fair and just democratic society imposes upon them as it promises to more or less liberate them. In my opinion, Koreans are at odds with the capitalist market and its ability to exploit democratic institutions to make a profit. Of course, foreign interests in Korea often get blamed and foreign laborers often receive the rhetorical force of the blaming rhetoric. We should not forget that conservative elements in Korea that are not Nationalistic but Corporate are at work behind organizing and disseminating the nationalist fear and rhetoric because it serves their purposes well: it makes the majority of Koreans, the working poor to working middle classes, look immature, petty, bitter, and unable to effectively lead. The resulting sentiment offers a slimy protection of Korea's ruling elite.

We should insist that the highlights of the G20 protests in Seoul, organized by Koreans, are the labor activists protesting cuts to social welfare programs. The Korean left is correct to be concerned and their early protests are a sign of their precise action rather than their often reported disorganization and vitriol.

Nevertheless, the conservative Korean press is likely to highlight any and all nationalist rhetoric within the Korean protests and amongst public Korean dissent. Such press serves an important cultural purpose: it protects Korea's elite. The unfortunate result is that the shitty expat blogging community will find further reason to hate on Korean activism via blogs regarding unfair treatment of foreigners by Korean bigots or regarding behavior non-Koreans find silly, stupid and offensive. It's always one or the other with foreign bloggers: criticize bigotry in Korea or illustrate their stupidity. Especially white bloggers: white folks love to illustrate others' bigotry. You know, it's white power's only effective use: Scapegoating.

Please support Koreans' right to organize, distribute information, protest, assemble and speak in public. Please celebrate that attempt to preserve their rights. In this celebration maybe we can find a little more energy to afford looking after our own back home, which are in fact in jeopardy. The democracy movement is alive and still struggling here. Without positive portrayals, like the Boston Globe's piece this morning, we cannot expect the remaining love of nationalist sentiment and protectionism to lose its popular appeal. And rather than the protests being about how the rest of the world envisions and represents Korea's nationalist sentiment, this should be about insisting Koreans are able to distribute information to shape policy and rhetoric.

Please do stop highlighting the minority nationalist interests as if those ideas are passively supported by the majority of Koreans. They aren't. It's about as silly as claiming the Tea Party represents the majority American sentiment regarding economic and social policies because the press pays so much attention to it. It's damaging to the progressive left (even the progressive right) who's image is often smeared in the right wing/corporate popular press.

시끄러운 교실

The longer I teach in Seoul the more I'm learning about classroom control management as an active and sometimes aggressive yet covert struggle between between my expectations for my students and my students' expectations for me.  I say covert because the traditional classroom does not permit never mind encourage student dissent.  In other words, I don't see the students and me meeting each other in an ideal public space we call a classroom in which we work together to complete a series of tasks and conversations in order to learn.  I see my and my students' expectations meeting in a rhetorical space through which we communicate with each other about lessons I'm more or less obligated to teach them.

I've quickly described two classrooms; neither is an actual room we could call The Real Classroom.  One is an ideal classroom and the other a rhetorical space.  Teaching in an ideal public classroom is an experience I very much want to have.  I'd love to see the promise fulfilled, the promise of democratic discourse in a public classroom that results in learning and an exchange of ideas many of which derived from the original social difference of the individuals in the class.  The latter space, which I refuse to call a classroom, is the space I'm obliged to maintain.  It's a space wherein cultural difference, contractual obligation and the State all work to create turbulence that is always just slightly less than the natural noise in an actual classroom: students, teachers, desks, chairs, the A/V, the fan.  For the students, this turbulence registers in anxiety and discomfort heard in their voices, seen on their faces.  Some simply sleep through it.  A few react violently to its presence.

I don't now how most teachers handle this.  Actually, I do.  Most teachers use their power to maintain order in their classrooms with more or less successful results.  Most teachers teach to maintain order: order in the tradition, order in the room, order in their assumptions, order in their lives, and so on.  In addition, I always assume, and I think I'm correct in making this assumption, that most teachers don't believe this turbulence (as opposed to the everyday noise) exists.  Most teachers I meet seem willing to accept the classroom space a school district provides for what it is and that their task is to instruct students on how to do specific tasks more correctly, more efficiently.  In effect, our public classrooms are nothing more than training students how to be good employees and consumers.  I don't want to pick on most teachers, but I do have a problem with the attitude that for all its claims to appreciate the importance in education actually reinforces the notion that ranking is much more important than understanding and appreciating knowledge.  I don't think it's good for us and I know it's not good for our students.

Most days, teaching public school in Korea is a lesson in humility.  Even when what I teach entertains and educates my students, an honest assessment of the quality and usefulness of my lessons can lead to slight, if not heavy, depression.  I never question my dedication to teaching; don't misunderstand me.  It's that I get depressed when I think of the dirty rooms, decaying infrastructure, smelly uniforms, unhappy employees, horrible food, and incomplete lessons.  Of course, there's much more we, as in society, can do to improve the horrible situation(s) of public education.  In Korea, as in the US, much public discourse concerning educational reform embraces the ideals we all think a healthy democratic society has to offer the classroom.  But much if not all the talk about teachers and students is focused squarely on the outcomes of tests that evaluate performance of students and now teachers.  These ideals are, then, not at all about education, pedagogy, practice, knowledge, discourse and rhetoric.  They are market ideals that help explain, encourage, inculcate, and distribute capitalist cultural myths.  I don't care about these ideals when it comes down to it because I find them facile and vacuous; in the sense that we all know them already, some of us agree with them in spirit, and yet do absolutely nothing to insure we shall attain them.

I'm going to post a lengthy description of my last lesson and attempt to examine what I'm doing here at Samsung High School.  I want to examine the usefulness of the language work I attempt to accomplish on a weekly basis. 

I have titled this post "The Noisy Classroom" because I encourage noise in my classrooms.  The noise in my classes is bilingual--Korean and English.  The noise is outbursts, questions, casual conversation, friendly banter as well as scolding address: all the typical noises are present.  I tend to have students work in groups.  My high school students tend dwell "behind the curve."  They are nowhere near proficient enough to meet Korea's standards for students their age.  In each class, I can expect anywhere from 2 to 6 students who are at a solid intermediate level or above.  I can expect 5 to 10 students who are at a low intermediate level.  I can expect the other students to be at a beginner level or have little to no desire to use English at all.

This poses a problem for me. If I were a teacher who made demands of my students based on the standards, as most teachers do, I'd get no satisfactory work accomplished, no matter how good my lessons were.  No matter what my colleagues think of ESL/EFL standards, theory and praxis, I'm not teaching in an environment where I can use traditional teaching methods to gain positive results.  First, the students aren't at the level that Korea's standards insist we (teachers and students) maintain; second, I have no instutional support.

In addition, the standard serves to remind my students how poorly they perform in comparison to the standard.  It serves no other purpose; I'd argue even at the schools where students outperform the standard the standards do not encourage learning instead instilling habits of competition.  Students are, in fact, oppressed by the standard.  I found in my first year at school that the lessons the Korean teachers encouraged me to instruct were of two kinds: 1) informative lessons meant to encourage students to memorize and repeat certain linguistic structures and/or vocabulary and 2) games meant to entertain as much as teach.  These lessons fulfill two concerns Koreans have about classroom management:  learning and entertainment.

I do believe that Korean teachers, in this respect, are very similar to American teachers.  They want students to enjoy their lessons.  The problem is that the kinds of lessons I was encourage to design, implement and teach do not take students into consideration.  The lessons are actually much more about satisfying what the teachers, administration and culture of education demand.  This is the turbulent noise that most adversely affects my classrooms in Korea.  In the US, in my university classrooms, I could control this noise more effectively.  I am, in fact, part of the problem in Korea.  I'm the colonial presence in Korean culture, the physical manifestation of all that worries Koreans about English-language culture in Korean society.  And my voice, if it is in tune with standards, is a repetitive You're Not Right.  Most teachers I know are unwilling to work this into how they teach, this consciousness of oppression.  Some are unwilling to admit it's presence.  Still others seem to take pleasure in treating students like slaves to their cause.

With the next few posts, I want to share my lesson, consider my classroom, come to a better understanding of what it is I'm doing here and what my work means.  Feel free to participate in the comments.  Share your stories, questions, concerns.

Reading Notes

I'm reading Michael Breen's The Koreans: Who They are, What They Want, Where Their Future Lies (Thomas Dunne Books, 1998. Revised, 2004.)

The book is sold as "[a] splendid work of explication and analysis" for and about Korea and Koreans. If I were Korean, I'd hate these books.

Maybe it's an easy critique to make, but Breen's writing is one moment fair and the next paternalistic, patronizing. He's aware of this and the book, so far, has several sentences sprinkling his intent not to be that way. When a writer has to tell his readers what he's not intending to do, then he needs to reconsider focus, direction, or genre. To be fair, much important work in writing represents an author's failure to accomplish his or her intent.

I don't mind anecdote and memoir, nor do I mind the critical analysis that often accompanies firsthand accounts of other cultures. Breen's observations are not trite. They are complex and careful, though often digressive.

As a reader, I do mind when interesting and anecdotal travel writing poses as vital cultural discourse and attempts to sell an author's illustration and caricaturization of an entire culture to his readers as authoritative vis-a-vis the author's own culture's view of the world and the subjects in his work. Breen is offered expert status on Korea and Koreans because he's an expat journalist who has extensively covered Korean business and politics. I'll write more about this in the coming days, but I can't shake this: when a foreign business and politics journalist claims he knows about the everyday lives of everyday Koreans, he's completely full of shit and gravitas.

It's not that foreigners shouldn't write Chapters on Korea, as Breen does, entitled "Korean Heart". Do share with your Western readers what you've decided is so complex about Korean passions and intellect: how, even though you admit you can't understand it, you have something valuable to say about it. Nothing at all wrong with the attempt. What's improper is the uncritical acceptance and implementation of a mindless binary about Western and Eastern consciousness that itself is based upon a complex series of mutual misrepresentations and generalizations about several cultures. It's as if the binary opposition is in itself an excuse for painting not one but all cultures with broad brush strokes for the purpose of making some rather simple points about other people appear poignant and complex.

Sounds like I am really having a go at Breen, doesn't it? I don't know about that. I'm dissatisfied with the state of intellectual discourse in books about Korea. I think he's a talented writer. It's clear he cares about Korea. I suppose I don't know what to do with his book. I guess I find it intellectually lazy. I'm reviewing it right now and yanking passages to illustrate my points. So, more to come shortly.

Stuff I like to read

As I get back into gear, here is a blog worth reading:

Stuff White People Like To Do

What Privacy? Getting Personal in Korea

"Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Can we talk privately?"
"Do you mind a personal talk?"

I arrived in Korea in late August 2008 with no idea what to expect from my school or new students and colleagues. I quickly discovered most of the information on the web from blogs and ESL web sites was exaggerated, improper, or horribly skewed. I was prepared for more work, more expectation, no preparation, a poor school district, a language barrier, and a rather radical change in my diet. Two things affected me more than anything else: Koreans are not as good at English as everyone insists they are (yet they are better than they think they are) and Koreans have no real expectation of privacy in their daily lives and don't do much to extend that to their privacy-obsessed western guests. The language thing doesn't bother me at all. But I had to quickly learn how to handle the lack of privacy.

I really did fear the above questions about private matters more than anything because they always dealt with what are the most taboo subjects for polite conversation in the United States. Generally, I enjoy conversations most when the discourse gets personal. I abhor small talk and prefer uncomfortable silences to meaningless chats. I like digging into issues and concerns no matter how trivial. I love watching people talk, especially when they get to personal matters. I'm a voyeur; I enjoy causing trouble; I like being engaged with others.

I discovered on only my second day in Korea that a personal question or private discussion here has to do with matters Koreans know Westerners like to keep private: there is no sense of shame or prohibition about bluntly asking a person to be frank about private matters. During my first few weeks in Seoul, these discussions were often wickedly personal interviews with me providing intimate details about myself to a relative stranger who appeared no more than momentarily interested. I often explained a personal detail in a hallway in between classes.

My new colleagues and students weren't trying to be provocative. They were satisfying a curiosity. This curiosity and satisfying it are what Westerners here often criticize as a rude or mean Korean behavior. The stares, the questions, the quick conversations can often seem like interrogations. I have commented on dagSeoul about this. White folks trek across Korea pointing, staring, teasing, laughing, and sometimes interrogating Koreans and yet are shocked when a Korean returns the favor with a comment about stocky or overweight white bodies, blonde hair, blue eyes, strange accents, drinking, sexuality, among other things. There are dozens of popular, Korea blogs written by white folks. Each of them has posts about rude Koreans. Yet each blog has within its archives many posts observing Korea and Koreans as if it's nothing at all. I think it's apparent people don't get irony.

Within my first 72 hours in Seoul, I was asked about my religion, my politics, my body shape, my lack of hair. I can only imagine what many of the foreigners I've met while living here did when confronted with similar questions. I got a weird kick of it, I must admit, but did become a little indignant with some particularly intrusive questions. I think I was shocked because I was taken from the airport directly to my school to work. I had no orientation period, nor time to sit and consider where I was, what I was getting myself into, what my fellow foreigners were like, and what Koreans thought about us.

I learned very quickly that my new Korean friends ask the personal or privacy question because they have learned that what they will ask next may offend me--US, actually. However, they aren't asking because they don't want to offend us; they are asking to warn us what's coming next. They are going to ask regardless of your answer. I think this is what some westerners find rude. As if to ask, Why seek my permission if you're going to dig into my personal affairs anyway?

No matter what you think of the question, you'll eventually hear it. It's better to be prepared. If you answer No, you're safe. Unfortunately, answer No several times and you'll always be kept at a safe distance. If you answer Yes, you must be ready for what will follow. Answer Yes several times, and everybody will assume it's permissible to continue personal discussions. Things got very personal with me. I'm very comfortable being a public individual here. So, I frankly answer all sorts of questions I know most people wouldn't.

Here's the tricky part about navigating these questions. I was asked about my background. Most Koreans want to know a foreigner's heritage. I mentioned Irish and Swedish and spoke about my family's focus on Irish culture. Koreans believe they have an affinity with Irish people, so that turned out well. Nevertheless, the conversation quickly became about religion because the teacher I was speaking with is Catholic.

Are you Catholic? I was raised Catholic.
Do you go to church ever Sunday? No.
Why not? I have some real problems with the Church.

That's how I decided to answer realizing I couldn't really explain to her in my native language the complex relationship I have with Catholicism. I just said, I don't feel I can go anymore. The response I got was something I've never heard from a Catholic and likely never would in the United States. The woman talking to me said, I'm worried for your soul. Please let me take you to church. I beg you to come.

I politely declined. I smiled. And we went to teach. I still remember walking down the hall and thinking "You've got to be kidding me." Here I was at my job and being cornered to discuss religion. My American self was ready to cry harassment. But these are not extraordinary discussions here. Iㅜ addition, this happened between periods, in that ten minute break between classes. Basically, I was being introduced to Korean scolding as caring. But the lesson I learned that day was that I had to be willing to both truthfully answer the question and politely accept the response if I was going to participate in these personal discussions.

Here's another example. I was asked, Why are you fat? Talk about awkward. I had serious health problems with intestinal bleeding before coming to Korea. I was considering an operation to remove a Meckel's Diverticulum that doctor's had diagnosed after a series of various tests. And I worked my ass off getting into shape and healthy to come here. I was running 40k a week and working out everyday. I was in the best shape I have been in since high school. When I was asked if I was fat, I just about lost it. But I am a barrel-chested and stocky man living in a country of thin, sinewy Korean men. If you're not thin here, you're fat. It's that simple.

I absolutely hated the fat discussions. Your fat. Your big. Are you healthy? Do you exercise? Why don't you lose weight? What do you eat? I had been overweight. I had been unhealthy. I have to stay healthy and keep an eye on things because it's likely that one day sooner than later, I will need an operation to fix what appears to be a congenital defect in my intestines. You'll likely sympathize when I complain that I hate thinking about it. But what was I supposed to do? Getting upset and complaining about it wouldn't change anything. Telling the person asking the question how rude that sounds to an American certainly wouldn't work. I had to decide to continue saying Yes or to begin saying No.

The fat discussions ended when I began playing soccer with the college students in my neighborhood and knocked the living crap out of them while outrunning them. Now, I am "strong Gary". They were amazed that I'm fast and in shape. An uncomfortable question turned into a nice accomplishment for me: I was able to feel wonderful about me and my body for the first time in a while. But I had to endure being put on the spot and that was hard.

Actually, they still call me fat from time to time. And that's another point worth considering: you really do have to be willing to sacrifice tact when have a discussion in English with most Koreans. Their vocabulary is understandably limited to a popular set of ordinary English words. For body type, the vocabulary is quite limited. Words like beautiful, pretty, ugly, fat, thin, tall, small, old, young, cute, healthy, not healthy, sick, and good are as much as most people will be able to use in any given conversation. Folks often know more words but rarely use them to be able to recall them while talking. I think it's very important to realize this, to admit it, and to allow for the problems that will occur as a result of the limitation.

To talk about health here often means directly addressing your body or their bodies. I turned what I saw as an unfortunate obsession into a benefit for my language classes. We had lessons about vocabulary to describe people. It was refreshing not to have to focus on political correctness and politeness. I was able to run through a whole set of vocabulary in a basic and honest way. As a result, I learned a few things about the horrifying ways the kids describe each other. I write "horrifying" because the teachers do nothing to challenge some of the hurtful ways Koreans classify each other by face shape, height, width, gender and age. I'd say the classification is enabled if not actually encouraged. I had a female student exclaim in response to being called a grandfather by her classmates, "Well, it's OK; I am ugly."


The noun phrase "personal question" means one thing for westerners: for me and my friends, we try not to get too personal because it's considered impolite in many social situations. A personal discussion is for friends. We permit people to volunteer such information. The more friendly, the more personal. If a friend confronts us about personal matters, it usually because what they see has become problematic and/or worrisome. For Koreans, it's a phrase that can be used before talking about private matters of personal significance. More than any folks I have met, Koreans will withhold judgments about a person until they know about you. A good first-impression is paramount, yet it's the discussions after that impression that will be used to classify you in some manner. I found within two months living here, people were quickly deciding whether or not they could be friends with me based on my likes, dislikes, personality, family history, spirituality, politics, et al. And not as they got to know me, but as they had a short and personal discussion about me.

So, the best way to think about personal questions is they are warnings about what is likely to happen if you answer Yes. Namely, I may offend you with my curiosity about you, your body, your politics, your religion, and/or your family. I write "personal" not to be sarcastic. It's just that we don't typically talk about personal matters when getting personal with each other. When getting personal, we purposefully relate a claim and reasons for making that claim to a person and his or her behavior and beliefs. And it's a difficult thing to do with strangers because we don't know them very well and must base our claims on assumptions that are likely not entirely the case. And it's a difficult thing to do with our friends because we more or less objectify them in some way to address a matter of disagreement. Getting personal often has a pejorative sense.

If a Korean wants to talk to you about personal matters that involve you, you'll likely be addressing marriage or your body. Why aren't you married; why don't you date; why are you fat; why do you die your hair; why are you always mad; why are you tired; why don't you dress well; do you drink; why do you live with your girlfriend; do you like Korean women/men? These are simply annoying questions that nobody wants to answer in front of strangers.

In a worst case scenario, you'll be talking about your lifestyle. As in, you came to work smelling of 담배 & 소주 (dambae/cigarettes and soju) and toothpaste and they want to know if you drink too much. Or, more innocent but still invasive, you called in sick on a Monday and your coworkers all assume you were hungover. It's an uncomfortable discussion many foreigners have with their Korean coworkers at some point.

(to be continued...I have a nasty cold and it's hard to write and keep a focus. I'll add to this post and develop some of the ideas as I get well.)

Did you know that hating homosexuals is now considered expressing your freedom?

Well, like this bigot's weird argument about natural rights and reproductive responsibilities, it's a load of conservative horseshit.

GOPride? That's pretty hilarious, too.

This is how American conservatives talk politics when they get together and celebrate their values. Actually, this self-righteous American dude is a member of a conservative youth group. A popular one on college and university campuses across the US. Conservatives like to encourage young men and women to hate with a rather high level of energy. Young Americans for Freedom is, among other things, a Glee Club for Hate. Where bros and their girlfriends can get together and talk conspiracy and white power and learn how to use rhetoric to tie it all in to the American Tradition. So, when they get older they can be more like Karl Rove or Dick Cheney than Barrack Obama.



I expect nothing less from the Young Americans for Freedom, but the weird conservative getting up at the end of the clip stating "freedom of opinion, freedom of opinion" over and over is truly grotesque. CPAC is a place for all the bigots to call home.

GOP politicians and the conservatives who end up voting for them each election cycle like to claim that they are into "big tent" politics, meaning that they are a diverse group. And the argument insists that they are a more diverse group than liberals. Well, yes, they are. If you include all the far right bigots in the US in your tent, then you are a big tent. You win. Good for you and your rotten values. I still would argue that your tent is pretty fucking white.

(Oh and do listen to Ann Coulter, who is looking pretty gaunt and tired these days. Listen to her clip about the diff between wars of convenience and necessity. Like always, she supposedly has a point.)

dagConfessions: Power & The Right To Peacefully Assemble

A US citizen visiting Korea for more than a year might have a hard time understanding Korean Democracy without doing a little homework. My wording might seem a little odd, but I think I could have been here for three months and not have come away with the desire to write this post (other than to share the story.)

The longer I live in Korea, the more I learn about the way the government and police operate. What disturbs me isn't the fact that I know about oppression and now I can see it happening outside my window. I'm not precious. I'm coming to terms with the fact that I haven't ever experienced a difference in how citizens think about Law. I guess I'm experiencing a kind of alienation for the first time that I could easily permit to become anger and frustration directed at Koreans and about Korean culture. But I want to resist that temptation because I think it's power I'm experiencing. Power, that as a white guy from the US, I have never confronted. I've read about it, sure. But this is different.

Koreans and Americans do not have the same experience and understanding of Law. A little knowledge of history explains the experiential aspect of the difference between our cultures. It's our, Korean and American, understanding of Law I want to quickly focus on before sharing a story from The Hankyoreh to illustrate my feelings. Feel free to comment if you disagree or want me to flesh this out. I'm more than willing to.

Many Americans, I'm ashamed to admit, don't really know that the reason we think and act like we do, as Americans do, has a lot to do with Laws. In the US, we have a Constitution and system of Laws that protects rights and punishes crimes. Americans like to talk about Rights all the time. We like to insist our Rights are Natural, even that we are born with them. We even have much of Continental Philosophy (See, Kant et al.) to back-up our notions that democratic life within a capitalist market is part of Nature's unknowable plan to guide us to ever more control of ourselves and toward overall Liberty. Nevertheless, we forget that without our enforceable social contract, all our Rights would simply be wishful and hopeful thinking. Yes, I'm saying that Americans take it for granted. I think we all know this is true.

Koreans have Laws with a big "L", too; it is, after all, the Republic of Korea. But Korean citizens don't think about their Republic as a Republic of Laws in the same manner Americans do. Laws in Korea are tools used by the police and the government to enforce the government's will, which is more appropriately stated as enforce the majority Party's will.

Koreans simply cannot freely speak in public in opposition to their government's ruling Party without worrying about punishment. Nor do they have the ability to freely assemble to protest and/or to organize in dissent without worrying about punishment. And when they do assemble in groups in active dissent, punishment does occur. A tourist passing through Seoul on a summer weekend would have to be blind not to notice the massive police presence in the streets.

I'm trying to come to terms with the visible and sometimes abject oppression many Koreans and immigrants struggle with here. The only thing that keeps me from running back to the US in disgust is that I'm well aware that, though Americans like to pretend it's otherwise, we have abject oppression in the US that is quite comparable while less widespread. In Seoul, it's easy for me to see it. I'm not from here. At home, I have to look for it. But it's there.

What I'm trying to come to terms with is understanding the middle-ground Korea occupies right now between the totalitarianism of the recent past and a more free Democracy of the sometime in the future. And I want to understand why Koreans don't have the feeling that it's their right. That's for another post, though. (And I should say that all the liberal and leftist Koreans I have met would say that it is their right. I'm generalizing here, of course, and I hope not too much.)

Below is a link to a story from a recent edition of The Hankyoreh. Korea's versions of Conservative Republicans are members of the Grand National Party (GNP). The American GOP and the Korean GNP have a lot in common. At this moment in time, both parties' membership likes to claim that they know better than everybody else how to legislate. In addition, they are the parties of old, well-off men and their sons and their wives. GNP visions of Korean daily life remind me of the white power structure that guides the GOP through its decision-making back home.

Currently, The GNP is attempting to enact a law that would make it illegal for people to assemble in groups between 10pm and 6am. The dissenting members of government insist that this could be handled by instituting a permit process, that an outright ban would be too extreme.

The law isn't the problem here; the warrant the GNP uses to argue in support of it is the problem. The GNP's reason is that somebody might break a law or a late assembly might turn violent. It's a real problem, this logic. A US citizen would say without too much pushing: Hey, a person has to commit a crime before being charged with one. We don't use laws to prohibit people from choosing to break laws. People choose to participate in our social contract. If a person breaks a law, then we punish that person. And so on.

In Korea, the social contract is an idea and law is a tool used to enforce participation. For the most part, Koreans accept this enforcement. Rather than shaping legislation that encourages peaceful participation in free discourse, laws that suggest what a true disturbance is, a law is suggested that prohibits all assembly. Most foreign historians and essayists on Korea like to argue that the existence of this general acceptance of oppression is a hangover from the bad days when dictators ran daily life in Korea. Well, I think that's a shitty excuse for a real problem that needs real reform to ever change. In addition, I think it's terribly patronizing to listen to white intellectuals talk about Korea's hangovers. It's a shitty, demeaning, and anti-intellectual means to addressing a complex cultural construct.

GNP introduces bill to completely ban nighttime outdoor assemblies

Here are two paragraphs from the article. They highlight the problem I address above:

The GNP lawmakers at the committee meeting, including Cho, called for the bill to be passed during the February extraordinary assembly after the bill had been handed over to a subcommittee for legal deliberation. GNP Lawmaker Kim Tae-won said concerns over the destruction of evidence or escape were great regarding nighttime assemblies, and they could very likely turn into violent demonstrations. Thus, he added that until a peaceful demonstration culture takes root in South Korea, a time restriction would have to be placed on outdoor demonstrations.

Democratic Party Lawmakers Kang Gi-jung and Kim Yoo-jung, however, protested the bill, saying that since it excessively restricts the people’s Constitutionally-guaranteed basic rights, it would be better to place limits on noise or venues rather than time. They called on the GNP to drop discussion of amending the Assembly Law and instead hold hearings to gather public opinion. A bill proposed by Democratic Party Lawmaker Chun Jung-bae and Democratic Labor Party Lawmaker Lee Jung-hee, currently stuck in committee, would in principle permit nighttime outdoor assemblies under the condition that participants maintain law and order.

Capitalist Christian Crisis

"All Christians should know, well everyone should, that it's opening up a person to attack, spiritually," he said. "Christians shouldn't use it." As quoted on FOXNews.

Conservativism is self-contradictory. Cons won't shut up about the integrity of the free market and the need for reduced government and regulation. They say, the market works better without regulation. Most of them don't know where this idea comes from and have never read the Adam Smith, Ludwig von Mises, or F.A. Hayek who championed it; however, they are damn sure that if you mess with the market you hurt capitalism and your chances to live that wealthy and secure life you've always dreamed about living. A consumer needs to make his or her own choices and those potential choices should not be curbed prior to the point of sale.

Von Mises liked to argue that consumers are "the captains" of the market, that consumers steer the ship of capitalism. It's nonsense: this consumer power: consumers shaping demand therefore supply therefore price has never been a reality and won't become a reality with less regualtion. If I sound cynical, sarcastic and unconvinced, I admit I am. The "liberal social order" of the capitalist market is not, by any stretch of the imagination never mind philosophy, what you can call good economic theory. The key word is "order". What Hayek and von Mises were up to was attacking socialism and the science of Marx. It's not hard to do with the abject failure of Russian and Chinese Communist revolutions. Call all socialists totalitarians; scare the shit out of citizens who are too busy supporting families to study the economic history and theory; create a theory that supports your world view to keep your ideological foes at a distance and your base in line.

Hayek and von Mises firmly believe in a catalactic economy: that capitalism, at its best, permits people to participate in exchanges (buying and selling goods and services) that turn enemies into friends. Unbridled Capitalism should unite the world. Hayek's use of "catalaxy" in "Principles of a Liberal Social Order" and von Mises' use of it in Human Action are telling. (Von Mises uses catalactic, if my memory serves me here. I could have the spelling wrong.) These words come from the Greek word for cattle. When you're trading cattle with a guy, you're not at war with him. It's common sense, right? Free Trade is supposed to support the development of Democracy. We know how idealistic this is. Actually, it's utopian. As utopian as Lenin ever was. As we have seen, the United States is more than happy to use its military to enforce its values when trade doesn't work.

Why am I offering a summary of my critique of Hayek and von Mises in a post about FoxNews, Christian Conservatives, and Human Life International (HLI)? It's to illustrate why I am always on about American Conservatives contradicting themselves and making a mess of society.

The quote above is from Stephen Phelan from HLI. I'd link to their web site, but it has been down for some time. So, I'm linking instead to Reality Check's information about the group and its associated organizations. It's a fair and accurate entry.

Phelan is quoted above in a story on FOXNews. Fox, as we are all aware, is a news network that fiercely defends conservative, free-market ideals. They like to lie about their partisan behavior, but all media organizations lie about lying. It's annoying that Fox has Americans believing it's "fair and balanced" bullshit. But what can you do about that? It's a waste of time pissing and moaning about it, in my opinion. Fact is, the other networks are only slightly less conservative.
[Rachel Maddow might be the only progressive out there, right now. She insists on fact-checking, fair debate, transparency, and of course the true conservatives in both parties refuse to appear on her show. ]

Regulation & the Democrats Who Regulate is a popular theme in Fox's daily programming. After all, the current Tea Party movement is supposed to be a grass-roots and populist struggle: a return to small government in order to provide Americans with a greater promise of Liberty and appropriate Representation. And the enemy of small government according to conservatives is the liberal establishment.

Is this an accurate portrait of the American market and political discourse? Not at all. Conservatives have never been honest with their whining about regulation. I could address the nonsense that Republicans support smaller government. We could look at how the government grew under both Reagan and Bush. Facts are undeniable.

Human Life International is a famous Catholic anti-abortion organization begun by Benedictine priest, Father Paul Marx. He's a hero to many Catholics and his well-read book, The Death Peddlers, is still used to argue about supposed truths of the Reproductive Choice Movement. A priest like Father Marx who dedicates his life to serving others is not necessarily a hypocrite. I'm not criticizing his work. After all, we have the right to organize and protest and speak our minds. He remained true to his beliefs.

It's that FOXNews will distribute Father Marx's HLI rhetoric to the public without remarking about it's pro-regulation platform. We want health care reform in the United States, and FOXNews will spend hours and hours decrying it as socialism in the guise of reform. What is a Catholic organization up to with its mission to criminalize reproductive choice? It's theocratic regulation. It's one group out of many attempting to legislate its spiritual and moral codes.

HLI seeks nothing less than to convince government to strictly regulate the behavior of American citizens. It seeks nothing less than to regulate the market. It seeks nothing less than to increase the size and influence of government in our everyday lives. HLI is well aware of this. As a conservative Catholic organization, its members are not at all opposed to legislating Catholic Doctrine. They are true believers. Where are our Conservative, Free Market Principles and where are the defenders of Freedom and Liberty when you need them?

It's easy to illustrate the hypocrisy of American Conservatives. In fact, any people who claim to represent common sense while using and manipulating conventional wisdom typically must deny contradiction and paradox, any complexities whatsoever, in wild attempt to maintain practicality in the face of chaotic everyday life. When things get complicated, conservatives get simple, deny philosophy and promote sensibility.

In fact, I could say this about liberals and leftists, as well. It's tempting to move away from active discourse in a public sphere where free speech is promoted and into the legislative sphere where Laws restrict behavior and proscribe speech according to basic principles. It's hard to resist using Law to oppress others. This is not simply a conservative sin, so to speak. Nevertheless, Conservative Christianity is dangerous because it relies on the status quo and the white power structure for its strength. As a social movement, it's organizing principle is based on it's members fear of difference and love of condemnation: the pleasure they get when prosecuting others. It's white, it's Christian and it's interested in nothing less than legislating its principles so that, no matter who you are, you'll have to act in a manner suitable to their doctrine of daily life.

The left sings Yes We Can; the Right replies No You Can't. The Tea Party, in fact, is all about saying NO. That's how it works. Actually, these folks are not interested in Liberty. Many of them are disenfranchised white-power junkies. They are predominantly Christian. They want to create an America that looks like them. It's a difficult task, since Americans decidedly do not look nor act like they do. This populist movement was spurred by the election of a black man and Christian ideologues are now going to attach themselves to it. It has been brewing for quite some time within the anti-immigration movement.

Fear not. They won't accomplish much. In the battle between Capitalism and Spirituality, we can count on one thing only. People are Consumers before they are Christians. Capitalists have even The Supreme Court on their side. Christians must learn to be content with arguing that pink ouija boards are bad for your spiritual health.

My Hood: Walking, Hiking, Scooting

I live in Gwanakgu (관악구). As I have noted before, Gwanakgu is said to be the most populated district (구, "gu,") in Seoul. 2006 figures put the population at 535,217 people; I wouldn't be surprised to learn that well over 600,000 Koreans and immigrants live here now. It's home to two of Seoul's famous ghettos, Sillimdong (신림동) and Bongcheondong (봉천동). Gwanakgu has 21 neighborhoods (동). I live in Sillim-9-dong, now called Daehakdong (대학동). 대학 means "university" and 동 means "section" or "neighborhood"; so, I live in University Town, an area where many Seoul National University and Law students live. It's often called 고시-town (goshi-town) because of the many law students, study offices for them, and the various law tutorial schools that can be found on each Daehak street and alley. Ignored among the throngs of older students and other Koreans, are the immigrant laborers, mostly Chinese, who often work in Seoul's service industry in restaurants, cafes, and food stands. Finally, but not least, my neighborhood and it's surrounding neighborhoods are becoming more popular choices for Native Speaking English Teachers (NSETs) who teach in the many elementary, middle and high schools, as well as hagwon (학원), the many institutes and private academies in the area that cater to students after school and their parents throughout the day.

Not far from my one-room flat (원룸) is my school, Samseong High School, and only a little further down the road is Korea's most famous university, Seoul National University.

I enjoy my fifteen-minute walks to school each morning. Daehakdong is still bustling from the previous night's citizens' drinking and eating at 7:30am. A table or two of lingering customers remain in each restaurant sitting around cooling grills (철판, cheolpan) having finished their cooking and instead retired to contemplating the final shots of soju (소주) left in one of the five, six, or eight bottles in front of them. They smoke and chat. The ajumma (아줌마) and ajeoshi (아저씨) clean and wait for them to vacate so they can catch a little sleep before opening again in the afternoon. I walk quietly by the still-closed cafes, yearning for a real coffee and always settling for the powdered variety sold cheaply at one of the many convenience stores along the way.

As I approach my school, I'm often greeted from down alleys and the three or four streets near my campus by name. The girls and boys shout my name, 게리!, and I'm typically smiling and well-met by the time I find my way to my second-floor desk in the office (교무실, kyomushil). Now that I'm beginning language education at Seoul National, I'll be riding my scooter to work and then onto campus to study. I'll miss my walks.

One of my favorite things to do in Gwanakgu is to hike Gawanaksan and Samseongsan, the two peaks located between my school and Seoul National University. My favorite hike is Samseongsan to Samaksa Temple to Yeombul Temple and then down into Seoul's neighboring city, Ansan.

From 2008 (Seoul ROK)

Over the next week, I want to blog a little about where I live. Look for posts about Daehak, Gwanak, and photos.

Earning My Students' Focus: Coraline, Halloween, New Lessons

I mean it how I wrote it. As opposed to "keeping my students focused," which is what some ESL/EFL teachers do over here. Visit YouTube or Facebook and you'll find dozens of classroom clips of young, ESL teachers (and older expats as teacher) playing clown and entertaining their classes while not teaching anything of use about language, its meaning or utility.

It's frustrating to think I might have to be evaluated someday by a foreigner who believes this is useful and good teaching; moreover, it's depressing to realize that many Korean EFL teachers think this is what praxis boils down to in the US, in my case, when it's decidedly not.

The powerpoint presentation has become the signifier of a lesson that often simply doesn't exist and teachers not-teaching stand in front of their projections babbling on and on about what they want to teach but won't actually get around to teaching. Some do this in various characters they create as they attempt to perform in front of the students. I don't know who's kidding who here, but it's apparent that a few students think they're learning when they're being only mildly entertained and a few Korean co-teachers think they're working with a smart teacher who's actually nothing more than an egomaniac while the rest of us watch in shock as we try to learn how to build a valuable pedagogical community that can promote worthwhile teaching practices. I blame capitalism and boredom for this development and implementation of technology in classrooms. We have a shut up and watch this culture of conspicuous consumption. We like treating students like they're consumers. But I'm getting off topic.

I know many of my colleagues work very hard to create useful lessons that help their students use English more effectively and help them feel as if they are coming to an intermediate mastery of usage. I'm not going to stick up examples because I know some of these people and I think their hearts are in the right place. I just gag every time I see a newly published video with amateur theatrics passed off as useful teaching and progressive pedagogy.

Onto Coraline.

My school doesn't have English Camps. Many high schools don't. So, this summer rather than teach 60 hours to three or four students who would want to sign up for a camp with me here in Daehakdong, I volunteered to teach at two English Camps for middle schoolers. I was a mad commuter on crutches with my broken foot but was very happy to be in Jamwondong at Sindong Middle School for three weeks and Gusandong at Eunpyeong Middle School for one. I finally had a chance to meet other foreign teachers and I must say that I was pleased to make new friends and learn new teaching methods. Having only taught in the University and College classroom, I'm not at all embarrassed to admit that I learn a lot from my colleagues about how to work the secondary-school classroom. Well, or how not to work it. It depends on what I see. I yearn for peer evaluation. This summer was a great opportunity to listen to my colleagues.

At Sindong Middle School, we wanted to provide a couple of fun days during a lengthy camp. We decided to screen a film on one afternoon. I offered up Coraline, which I had just seen and thought the students would like. I expected nobody to be interested, but they were. And the students loved the film. I had no idea. The kids were fixed in their seats, focused, and hung on each scene. Korean audiences can be very expressive. It wasn't difficult to understand how much they enjoyed the break from classes and liked the film. As a result of its reception at Sindong, I decided to show it to students at my school.

Each semester I prepare one or two cultural lessons. We have drawn monsters, discussed superstition, talked about parents as 잔소리군 (jan-so-ri-gun; a nag) and teachers' disciplinary action, thought about hunger and poverty, shared about sports. Anything to give them a break from direct instruction and encourage some critical thinking while using English. The classroom experience here is so rigid, they usually like it. In addition, the students and co-teachers usually have no experience with the material I use. The classes can be fun.

Last Halloween, we talked about Jack-o-Lanterns and Halloween monsters and the students competed in groups of six to create the most interesting monster concept. The winning group in each class received a bag of Halloween candy that I prepared. This year, I decided to try to create a multi-week project with Coraline. I've recently got into the habit of creating four-week blocks of lessons that have their own focus. It gives the students time to develop a way to use the language they're learning in my classes. I didn't know how my coteachers would be react to me wanting to show a film, so at a department meeting I only mentioned showing the film as a Halloween treat and admitted we'd only have time to watch 50-minutes or half the film. The students enjoyed the film so much my co-teachers insisted we finish it the following week. I thought this would happen and it permitted me to add in our next meeting that I had some ideas for two more lessons using the film content as material.

My co-teachers are thrilled, as you can imagine, because for the next few weeks they need not worry about this part of their jobs. And they are tickled because we agreed about something quite naturally: Coraline is a good film, it's interesting, it's useful, and the students are happy. Honestly, I hadn't thought about the language level of the film. But it's intermediate (vocabulary and usage) to advanced intermediate (speed of dialogue.) I used the Korean subtitles, but in my future lessons I can implement the actual vocabulary from the film without any difficulties. One significantly Korean aspect of the film is Coraline's relationship with her mother and father. Her mother is a sympathetic character as well as a real nag, her father can be distant but has her complete admiration, and Coraline is a bit of a princess. It's hard to summarize this complex relationship so quickly in this blog post; forgive me. What's important is that the kids totally get her and her parents. I couldn't be more fortunate because I hadn't considered that they'd necessarily get everything about the relationships in the film. Sometimes I'll show them something or use an example in class that I'm sure they'll understand and I'm just way off base with their gist of families and culture.

While Coraline is not flawless, it's a visual delight. It's heart is very big. And it's not weird for weirdness sake, which it could have been had Tim Burton gotten his hands on it. It's wonderful to have 100 minutes of class-time spent in silence for 20 classes of peace of mind. And it's a good break for the hard-working teachers here. I've gotten a kick out of watching my kids peacefully sitting, trying to have fun.

We decided to use two of our many ideas to make a four-week block of classroom activities. Two classes around Halloween to watch the film, its 97 minutes, followed by two classes of lessons using Coraline's characters and themes. I'm focusing on a Fantasy/Reality lesson that will teach 1) new vocabulary with a focus on synonyms and antomyns, 2) cultural usage of American English and 3) group work and presentation of material in class. I've got speaking and writing covered as well. This lesson will encourage students to think about how to express their fantasies in contrast with their realities. It will encourage translation via bilingual discussion in group work. Something I wholeheartedly support. My English Classroom is purposefully bilingual. (I hate the English Only crap teachers pull here. As if the kids aren't using Korean when they use English.) We'll also get the class to create a marketing campaign for the film as if they were marketing it for Korean audiences. In short, ads for the film using pens, craypas and paper.

All in all, Coraline was a wonderful way to work on a Halloween/Autumn set of lessons without resorting to awful lessons about culture that nobody cares about, like "My Teacher's version of the source of Halloween" or "My Teacher's version of the meaning of Thanksgiving and how it relates to Chuseok (because My Teacher needs to assimilate everything in order to teach it)" or "My teacher is an individual who has a different take on Halloween and Thanksgiving than other foreigners and this makes my Teacher cool, or so she thinks."

Anyway, my hour of free-time is up and I'm off to teach. Please feel free to share your Autumn lessons in the comments and/or provide links and/or criticism.

Possibly Useful Links: Henry Selick, Neil Gaiman, Coraline Wiki, Coraline Movie, Coraline IMDB.