Teachering: Useful and Useless Teaching habits

[edited twice as of this morning, 6/17/10)

I've been thinking about my role as an English teacher in Korea more often lately. I know it's likely due to my approaching contract renewal. I should probably just relax. I know I'm a good teacher, but we don't get much peer review in Korea. Certainly not as much discourse as I'm used to in the US. So, I am anxious.

I took a little time to reflect on my work the last week and discovered, since my 2008 arrival in Seoul, I've weathered a strong revision of my teaching practices yet a strong reaffirmation of my pedagogical principles. My principles are renewed and my practice is more vital than it has ever been in the past. I feel like I know what I'm doing yet I'm doing something new.

I think a lot of Native Speaking English Teachers (NSETs) arrive in Korea with vague notions about how to teach English and little experience. That's problematic and for what are obvious reasons: new teachers, little support, no training, rigid contract, et al. However, many people coming to Korea to teach are dedicated teachers looking for work in a country that respects teachers and looking to teach in Korea, a place they want to know more about. Many teachers arrive here already trained, with strong pedagogical principles and practical experience. As one of the latter, it's often painful and frustrating to be compared to the former. Teachers should be able to gain experience, certainly, but I do believe that experience should be developed at home and in conjunction with the direction of their own teachers. That's for another post.

I'm tired of hearing from my surprised Korean colleagues that I'm such a good, dedicated teacher who has good ideas and loves Korea. (They're always happy I don't show up late, smelling of soju and kimchi, with my shirt untucked, dead tired and unable to teach. Koreans seem to expect the worst as a rule.) I always want to crack wise and stand up for myself. I don't. I just smile and say, Thank You. It's the Korean way, for sure.

I've always thought English is useful as a global language because it's capable of assimilating essential everyday language from other languages without much of a hassle or misunderstanding. However, the teaching of English can be much less democratic and accepting of difference than the language is. For many reasons, many teachers act as if they are guardians of the English language. It's not enough for them to teach it; they like to act as if they own it and are protecting something they bought with their knowledge of it.

One thing I've learned in Korea about English instruction and that I'd offer to anybody seeking advice about teaching ESL and/or EFL in a foreign country is that a teacher must have the ability to strive for excellence while setting classroom standards and expectations appropriately with respect to the students' current needs and demands in contrast to the teacher's own desires. Teachers really do have the power to set this conflict between desires and demands aside, to disengage from it for the benefit of the class by stepping down from doing things for the students and actively engaging with them in classroom discourse. English language instruction and acquisition can be a coming to terms with the language rather than enforcing it: a negotiation rather than a standard.

What I have been coming to terms with in Korea is a strange disconnect between my radicalism (pedagogy) and my pragmatism (my objective). I have learned that balancing the desire to express ourselves in the classroom and department successfully and meaningfully is not the same as managing a classroom in a manner suitable to the students. Only the teacher is in a position to assess what the students need and this gives teachers a lot of power. We know that government is always seeking to proscribe this power. And students often like to rebel against it. Regardless of the situation outside of the classroom, a teacher can make the decision to empower student participation and activate learning in useful and meaningful ways no matter what interference exists.

Judging from the bulk of lesson plans I see circulated and the general discourse about teaching (in Korea,) the less-experienced teachers seem to make the wrong decisions for what may seem like very practical (read, good) reasons. Teachers tend to decide that the requirements of the lessons and demands of the culture are so significant that they must insist students accept a classroom environment the teacher thinks will work best for them to meet curricula-determined goals. I disavow this practice. I guess this could be my reaction to useless lesson planning practices. After all, how long have teachers been composing plans based upon concrete goals that are met only after imposing a strict outline of timed classroom activities? It's stale; it ignores students.

A good lesson plan illustrates a teacher understands how to define an attainable goal. A good plan never addresses how and what students think about it. Moreover, detailed plans always determine how students should approach a lesson. Therefore, plans limit creative and critical discourse. Nowhere in these lesson plans are students visible. Students are unnecessary to its implementation, and they will be present when a lesson is discussed and assigned. They will be given a lesson. I know many teachers who can compose wonderful lesson plans who cannot teach, aren't interested in teaching. They are good plan implementers. And the students' grades are merely numeric representations of the quality of implementation. In fact, that's how both the US and Korean Republic see education. This is the prevailing theory of education: if students receive high test scores, then they are learning.

My Korean colleagues often sadly approach me and apologize because I have had to "lower my expectations" since coming to Samsung High School. When I first arrived, I thought this was because my school's Principal had read my CV to the teachers in a faculty meeting before introducing me. It was embarrassing. I'm proud of my work but I don't brag. And some teachers were intimidated. What was I doing here? They asked it; I asked it. But I have learned that they're thanking me for working hard and trying to be respectful. I'm not good with gratitude. I have a real problem seeing myself as good. And it's even harder for me to figure out how to return gratitude. I'm terrified of obligation and never quite get it right. This, too, is for another post. But it shouldn't be overlooked that when I first arrived, were it not for my experience, I would have been shocked to discover that it's close to impossible for me to properly complete my contracted tasks--that much of my work, in the traditional sense of teaching lessons, is pointless.

But I have learned to stay focused on the students. To love my students and not necessarily their work. And so, when I'm reminded how sad it is that I have to lower my expectations, I respond with a smile and say "No problem." What's the point of explaining that I find such apologies demeaning to the student body? It's not worth it. I know how my colleagues think about my most recent approach to developing lessons: they see my newest take on teaching students here as a lowering of expectations. It is decidedly not that at all.

The level of English in my working-class district is lower than you might expect. I have 2 or 3 out of 35 to 45 students, in 20 classes, who can listen to a question in English and answer using complete sentences or meaningful clauses and phrases. That's about 60 out of 600-700 students I regularly see. As a result, the first thing I ditched was the English-Only Classroom. For me, that was the easiest part of the environment to change.

Even before arriving in Korea, I wholeheartedly disagreed that enforcing English-only in classrooms encourages and supports the students. Now I can say without a doubt that it's merely wishful thinking to suggest a classroom can be English-Only. It's a ridiculously limiting conception of language as well, as if language were only spoken. The students are not thinking in English. No matter what they say or think, the English language is always already in context with Korean language and culture. We might as well use that to our benefit. English-Only classrooms in Korea are much more about making English teachers more comfortable. I hate classroom power trips. Thus, my classrooms are proudly bilingual.

I would suggest that newer teachers in Korea think about ways to assert themselves in the classroom. Co-teachers will attempt to dominate younger and inexperienced teachers. They'll attempt to police your classrooms. If you need help and are a brand new teacher in search of guidance, this might be a happy coincidence. On the other hand, many teachers have practical experience and will find that Korea's classroom culture is odd, possibly alienating. One of the first things to learn while teaching here is how to fairly and positively manage a Korean English classroom. It takes some work. But the conflicts that will arise and headaches that follow are worth the stress. If you're a good teacher, they will respect your different style. If the students dislike you and you can't teach, they're going to get rid of you as quickly as possible anyway. And I agree with them. Korean students shouldn't be the lab rats for Western teacher wannabes. (I don't mean to be overly cynical or rude to younger teachers, but using another culture's student population as a tool to explore your options back home is unethical to say the least. It's something a teacher wouldn't do.)

The second thing I have learned is how to see the classroom as my students do: a boring, uninspired series of lessons about how to properly answer multiple choice questions based on reading, listening and thinking about ideas in English. Korean English teachers handle this aspect of the job. It's a teacher-stands-in-front-of-the-class-and-tells-you-what-things-mean kind of situation. And Korean students are often much more accepting of receiving such lessons from a Korean than a foreigner. Korean education culture mandates this approach as necessary to teach the students how to prepare for their standardized tests. The advanced students take notes and passively listen and the students who are slightly behind sleep or daydream. The issue for me, as an NSET, is a matter of role: What is my role in the Korean high school classroom?

I've decided my role is to be the one consistent English-speaking presence necessary to acclimate students to the sounds and logic of the English language. By using English with them, I'm performing what it sounds like, how it acts, what it means, and when to use it. In addition, I am what it looks like. This role is in opposition to how most foreign teachers work. This is not to say that they aren't well-meaning teachers with strong lessons. But who are they kidding? I have seen videos of lessons about idioms that drive students mad with laughter. But a PowerPoint presentation with videos and an active classroom is still a lesson about an idiom that relies on a stupid comparison between Konglish and English usage of English language words. It's simply not teaching language. It's teaching jokes. At best, it could be referred to as "reaching an understanding" about a routine. And, in many cases, a teacher risks reinforcing bad habits and lazy routines.

Many NSETs attempt to improve on the Korean English teacher's work and talk about teaching as a competition between co-teachers. At times, they wish to correct the mistakes and to encourage more contemporary usage. Many of the lessons online are based on improving the language the students already know. I think this approach almost gets it right but the flaw is in the pedagogy. NSETs like to be The Expert English Person on Campus. They like to own the language. They complain about the mistakes Koreans permit in their lessons and textbooks. They like to correct cultural errors. They like to transmit Western cultural lessons via language lessons. And as a result of playing the leader, they often find themselves very much an outsider in their schools. They become English Language Informers--the tool in their schools to illustrate who knows English well and who doesn't: somebody who is approached only when the locals can't answer a language question without an expert's help. I want nothing to do with this role. It's a means to alienate myself from my students. In addition, I may be an English teacher, but I do not own the language.

All NSETs should meditate on this mantra: I know I am not in Korea to change Korea.

On the other hand, I love Korea. So, why is it not enough for me to simply be myself using the language and being a teacher being myself using the language? It really does boil down to being a teacher or being like a teacher. Am I teaching or teachering?

I do everything I can to work with students on improving classroom discourse to permit as much student participation as possible yet insist that we maintain a useful direction. After all, we must succeed at focused study with a purpose. In my classrooms, even when I'm evaluating the students, I try to encourage them to use the language they have already learned in order to practice it and become more familiar with it. I insist they attempt to speak in coherent sentences when possible.

You may think I have set the bar rather low. I'd disagree. I have renovated the English classroom. Once a week the students feel at ease when an English teacher walks into the room. At ease because I am the Native Speaker, not in spite of it. (Although my co-teachers often feel alienated in my classroom. Yet again, for another post.) This serves an important purpose. I'm the guy you can speak your lousy English with because I'm patient and kind and want you to succeed. I'm not here to inform you that you're incorrect. Quite the opposite, I'm the one who will tell you, "I understand." I'm not concerned with your ranking nor your grade. I'll insist you use English, but I'll support your attempt. In addition, I'll not cater to you nor insult your intelligence. I'm the teacher who knows you know the answer but can't figure out how to say it. We'll figure out a way to say it together. Consequently, I'm the teacher who will insist that English is only possible in conversation with others no matter how much the government and anal Westerners insist it's about correctness.

I'll give you an example. This month we're working on illustrating six themes from the film, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. While some of my students are preparing to find jobs and begin a life of hard work, many students are working towards University life. So, it's important that they begin thinking critically about ideas they encounter in texts. They need to be able to generate reasonable statements about those ideas. They need to know how to use examples from texts to support their statements. And they need to improve their English speaking skills.

I don't have enough time with them to work on reading and discussing texts. I do have time to screen films. We watch a film; I hand out vocabulary. We discuss the language in the film and homework is to familiarize themselves with words and phrases that are new to them. I encourage them to use dictionaries but require their answers in class be in their own words. They aren't permitted to speak in dictionary-ese. The following week, groups have to stand and answer questions about the new words and phrases. We spend one week writing sentences about the meaning of familiar words from the narrative. I assign homework to group leaders who must organize their groups and get them to present a discussion about one of six themes. In their presentations the following week, they must use the language from our earlier vocabulary work. Again, I assign homework asking the students to draw an illustration of their group work about a theme. Their illustration must contain a slogan that captures the spirit of their chosen theme. I sneak a little practice on writing a summary into an art project. The following week, group leaders present their work and the class evaluates the presentations.

It sounds like difficult work, doesn't it? It is and it isn't. These are smart lessons that permit duplication. In other words, in any given school year, I can help the students develop comfort with new vocabulary and English language culture using a format that entertains them. The material in each lesson is new, yet it recalls prior work. The students can become comfortable with my teaching style and a classroom routine without me having to give up the complexity I think is necessary to actually promote learning. I have a lesson ideal and a general direction that maintains a focused and accurate purpose.

The most time-consuming part of the preparation is putting students into groups because I make sure the groups contain high-performers and low-performers, students who both know and don't know English. The students teach one another by listening to their group members discuss how to complete the work and other groups present their work. They become the experts. Students learn who to trust and ask one another for help. I encourage the groups to routinely give others the answers. I encourage students who know the answer that a person standing doesn't know to share the answer. Students know there is nothing wrong with hearing an answer and then repeating it. Of course, they must learn to hear the most correct answer. As a result, I have discovered a way to permit a noisy classroom.

It's much more complex and demanding than anything they're accustomed to as students of English, yet they enjoy it. The difference is that we work in groups and share our results and discuss our problems understanding the meaning of the English language in both Korean and English. The classroom becomes less about the assignment and a teacher's evaluation than it does about the discourse needed to address the questions at issue within each stage of the assignment. Moreover, the students are involved with evaluating their performance as the final lesson requires classes to discuss group performance.

Ultimately, I'm satisfied because this is a practice I'd use with Seoul's most privileged students. It's not something developed with my students in mind; it's something that works regardless of social class. The lessons permit useful participation from all kinds of students, and their participation is required to be in concert with their classmates' work. I'm engaging with them on what can be thought of as their terms. In other words, I'm not reinforcing the stupid ranking system where the best and brightest are rewarded as they shame their classmates who haven't scored as high on their tests. (This is a problem in US classrooms, too, where teachers use the smart kids to motivate the kids who aren't doing as well. It's demeaning. As far as I'm concerned, it's a kind of training for corporate life that should be banned from the classroom.)


I've been using a word lately to distinguish between useful and useless teaching practices. Teaching is always useful teaching. Teachering is when what you do in the classroom fulfills your obligations but does not necessarily have anything to do with your students. Teachering is always useless.

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.

Back on the Bus with You (and Your Other-ing Elbow, too)

More than once on this blog, I have tried to address how quick US citizens, especially white folks, are to cry Xenophobia while living in Korea. It's true that Korea has a reputation for being rude to foreigners. People are pushy in the streets; they will look at you, but won't talk to you; they'll even talk about you while looking at you yet ignoring you.

But let's not kid ourselves: this is how foreign others are treated in the US as well as, well every other place I have been come to think about it.

I have yet to experience racism, though. Koreans have told me how rich I am, how lucky I am, how educated I am, etc. They like to draw rough caricatures of me: all end up representing me as an Ugly American of some sort. That is, until I get to know them.

I once got into an argument in my public school classroom with a teacher because I told a student who insisted Americans are all rich that I wasn't and the majority of Americans are not either. I told him, "in fact, we are poor." Speaking on behalf of millions of poor Americans, I felt proud of myself not permitting the nonsense in my classroom. My co-teacher stepped in and mentioned my clothes and then my wealth. After all, I was a traveler and living in Korea. Well, I stopped class. Turned on my laptop (a sign of wealth by the way, and it is and I must admit that,) turned on the projector, and connected the Internet. I showed them the poverty in the US. They shut up. The students ALL apologized. The adult teacher said nothing else about the matter. I had embarrassed her. It's not nice to do that to an adult here. Confucius still clouds daily life in Korea. On the other hand, I wasn't going to permit lies in our class to save her face.

I am a teacher. I am here to teach. I am not in this country to piss and moan about my personal treatment. I am here to work with others. If I were here to make money, to travel, to be tourist, I'd be at a hagwon (a for-profit, language education business) and tutoring. But I believe in public education and I am decidedly not a tourist.

I have found that by engaging my hosts, I am always treated well. Always. But engagement with others is difficult. I understand. I also understand that some people who travel are not cut out for traveling. What many travelers want is to be catered to in a manner that meets the satisfactions they are accustomed to in their native countries and as consumers in their local markets. Or, they want to treat Korea as their Zoo. I think it's unfair to come to a country like Korea and expect to be treated as anything other than other. Unless. Unless you are willing to take some shots, to be hurt, but to push back and insist your permanency in your new local environment.

Each time I return a shove in the street or a rude look or whatever weirdness I am given by a strange Korean I don't know yet, I try to return the action with a smile and some Korean language. If another return is offered it is always kind. The worst thing that happens is that I receive a grimace from an old man or lady. And I love the older Koreans. For what they been through in their lives--occupation and war--they have earned the right to grimace at foreigners in their land.

***5/27, 12:44 pm: It has been suggested to me that my use of "return" above makes it sound like I am returning a shove with a shove-with-a-smile. No. I am using return to implicate the return in discourse. The shove is a speech act. People push me out of the way rather than speak to me for a reason. It means many things, but one of the most significant ideas communicated by the shove is "I don't want to talk with you." I have learned that Koreans are incredibly shy and so are apt to appear incredibly obstinate. I return the shove with a speech act that invites a revision of their act. I think insisting that they "see" me again (revise) is important.***

AND LET US NOT FORGET KOREA'S HISTORY. You all do know that the Korean War has never ended. No treaty was ever signed between the US and Korea. We are still at war with each other. It's worth considering that Koreans know this and that Americans seem to not give a shit. Well, let's be honest. I am willing to wager that more than half of the foreigners in Korea, American or not, do not know this.

It is not an exaggeration for me to say that most foreigner teachers (not the students) I meet, including the Korean-Americans here know less than I do about Korean history, geography, and its local culture. Even the foreigners who speak the language well are not necessarily informed. How is this possible?!? Maybe they have read wikipedia. I think this is suspect. I did my homework before coming here and I assumed that others who wanted to live here would feel the same obligation. Well, I actually started doing the homework years ago when I wanted to come here. My point is that there are many reasons for Koreans' lack of trust. Foreigners come here to make money, eat, drink, have sex, make friends, buy stuff, and leave. And many foreign teachers make a lot of money. Many foreign teachers also often talk as if it is their right and privilege to come here and make as much as they want without doing anything. In other words, they do not behave as guests who are asked to be here and granted limited access; they act as if Korea is theirs to do with as they wish. Yes, they are little Imperialists and they are colonizing Korean space. And many Koreans hate it.

I am not going to surprise any high school or University teachers who read DagSeoul by saying this. But I will piss off almost every foreign teacher in Korea who will read this. We do not do much teaching here. The students in hagwons are studying for multiple choice tests. The majority of their teachers are teaching Idiomatic Expressions and some of their teachers are great performers and tell fun stories and use neat technology. In the high school I teach at, I see 20 classes of 35-45 students for 50 minutes once a week. Really. What can I do as a language teacher? Not much. Koreans do not work on composition and do not involve much reading in their language education. They work out of text books that target certain learning areas in language so the students can score well on tests. The students can read English and with prompts in the form of questions written in Korean language, they can tell you some basic things about English syntax and grammar. I do more for my students just talking with them in English, to familiarize them with the language, than I can teach them English.

It was shocking when I first got here. To the point, the majority of "native speaking English teachers" (NSETs) in Korea do not teach much at all. They work. We all work hard here. But most of the NSETs are not teachers. It's obvious talking to some of them that they don't know what they are doing. Now public school teachers here are more with it. But many are young and inexperienced--in fact, here to get experience. I don't understand what the Korean government is thinking bringing new teachers here to teach the English language. They should bring experienced teachers. (And this no offense to recent college grads coming here to teach, have fun, and get experience. Good for you.)

At any rate, the students are my concern. And many NSET folks care more for themselves and their lifestyles as travelers than they do care for their students. In other words, they are not teachers.

삼성고등학교 . Notes and Link.

my school's web page: like many web pages in the Republic, it runs best on Internet Explorer and is full of little programs that tend to run slowly even on Korean PCs.  Firefox would be best for Macs.

But you can see my students.  I love them with all my heart.  They absolutely look after me.  I don't want to forget my colleagues--my fellow teachers always care about my best interests.  I know many foreigners complain about treatment.  I have had bad experiences, but I am very happy here.  I am feeling like a teacher.  This is a renewal of a spirit I enjoyed prior to leaving teaching in 2006 to attempt finishing my dissertation--an attempt that failed.  Working full-time has slowed my writing down to hours a week rather than per day.  I think it's acceptable.  I am willing to be patient with finishing my novel.  However, I yearn for Time To Write.  I think I could finish in 6 months without work.  But it ain't gonna happen. 

I thought it would be fun to show the link because it will give you a good idea just how immersed I am in Korean daily life and language.  No English to speak of except for me.  The myth about English in Korea shattered my first week in Korea.  I have been thinking a lot about this: what it means to speak with others.  Everyday language--and I am thinking about Ordinary Language here, you know, what does it mean to say something, to say what you mean, etc--everyday language is completely different for me in Korea.

I want to post about this in a manner suiting the topic.  Later today, maybe tonight.  For example, I am called a native speaker here.  Of course, native is regarding English itself, not me-speaking-English but the idea that I come from there, there being the place they speak English everyday.  This is nothing ordinary:  it is a highly developed since of how English works in a presumed wealthy global culture with abundant opportunity.  English language is seen as part of the endeavor to succees in a capitalist culture.  Believe you me, English is here in Korea.  It's all over the place.  It's a more self-aware sense of English than most English speakers possess.  Now, when I look at a Korean student--my high school students, for example--and witness their anxiety regarding English education, I realize I am witness to a communal dread about the future of Korea and Korean citizens, their individual dread about their future and their families' futures.  The students may not be mature enough to say it this way, but their shoulders are already familiar with this cultural weight.  They began carrying the burden when their mothers, and sometimes fathers, offerred their first 잔소리 regarding The Future, tying IT to Education and, inevitably for the middle class here, to English.

Of course, English is a global language or we might say English has been in the process of becoming global for some time.  After all, it is hard to deny that it has long been the most acceptable for of global imperialism and the white power structure.  In this respect, the term native speaker just doesn't suit me, for me, as a means to describe me.  Nevertheless, it does suit the perspective Koreans inhabit regarding an approach to learning and using English.  I feel that, regardless what Korean might call me, I should reject the modifier "native" and simply speak with others.  I think I should attempt through teaching English--mechanics, grammar, vocabulary, et al--attempt to simply find a means to speak with others about what needs to be communicated.  I should also attempt, if not succeed, to speak the Korean language.

I will doubtless get into the classroom politics discourse here:  I abhor white folks who demand English Only environments.  In Korea, we really do have what a bilingual culture.  (We do in the US, as well, no matter what the politicians and guardians of the white power structure say.)  I listen to native speaker teachers proclaim with pride that they "insist" their classrooms are English Only.  Who are they kidding?  Do they believe the students think in English?  Don't they understand the value of using both languages to learn the other?  For some, though, teaching is about power.  We all know fellow teachers who aren't in it for the vocation but are in it for the authority and the claim to wisdom.  Many capitalist entrepreneurs teach.  They find profit in their lessons as they work FOR others rather than WITH them.  I don't really know how the exchange works in every instance, but I do see capitalism at work in the sense that out of the exchanges those teachers participate in the classroom the value of their own self-worth grows.  And this is often regardless of their students' successes of failures.

Inevitably, I'll have to address hagwon culture and the foreigners who flock to make cash working day and night "teaching" English.  I really don't have much to say about folks who come here to teach at hagwons (for-profit "Academies.")   I simply cannot think about hagwons without thinking about the market and culture of Education here.  I am opposed to hagwon culture for many reasons.  This does not mean I am opposed to hagwon teachers.  SO, you know, I am reticent to speak about hagwon teachers because I don't want folks to think I am saying "You are a bad teacher."  I am sure that good teachers exist in the hagwons in Korea.  Nevertheless, I refuse to teach in the Private Education Industry in Korea.  They are the death of community and public education.  They instituionalize education in a manner suiting standardization of ideas in an attempt to make culture monolithic and linear.  Hagwon culture also represents the death of critical thinking.

I wouldn't have come to Seoul unless I was able to teach in the public schools.

Look at my school's home page.  Imagine flying to Seoul.  After your 15 hour flight, you are picked up by a young man who drives you to your new school.  And not more than 90 minutes after your arrival, your job begins.  You simply cease being the teacher and writer, whatever I was, and begin a new daily life.  I really felt no break until December 19th.  An important day for me for two reasons:  first, I met Praise Lee; second, Winter Break began.  From September 5, 2008, until December 19th, 2008, I encountered a continuous renewal of attempting to get by in a place where my everyday language did not (and still doesn not) work.

Many people who travel here, live with their foreign coworkers.  Most hagwons put foreigners up in apartment bulidings where their coworkers live.  My situation is different.  Most of the public school teachers I know live by themselves and are fortunate if they have foreign neighbors.  Our schools find us places to live near work.

I have wanted to come to Korea for some time, so I was very happy to learn that I wasn't going to live with foreigners.  I want to learn as much as possible about the culture and language.  I am not exaggerating though when I tell you that I did not have a conversation for two weeks after arrival.  I live in a neighborhood where no foreigners live.  I like it; I hate it.  I had no phone for 60 days, so I wandered the streets of my new home yearning to talk.

...time to work...

More later.  I just wanted to get some points out for a more detailed discussion:

• what happened to my everyday languge?  (I think the answer is Nothing happened to it, it is not English and never has been.)
  
• what is wrong with Private Education Industry and why "Native Speakers" should radicalize it, alter it, or simply refuse to support it?
  
• what does it mean that English is a global language?  (Koreans are so focused on "accent."  Korean English teachers like to talk about "accent" and I get many questions from teachers and students alike about appropriate "accents."  I'd like to reflect on what they mean a bit more thoroughly, but I always ask, "what accent do you think is the correct one and why?"  I believe English is everyone's language and we are afforded an opportunity here to either betray the cultural imperialism usually accompanying ESL education by freeing it from the rigors of the American English-British English binary.)