No Dark Sarcasm in the Classroom

(Formerly titled "Hot for Teacher")

Yesterday, I stepped into a classroom for the first time in over 5 months. This was my first time at the front of a high school class, my first time teaching Japanese students. At the worst school in Osaka, no less.

I'd had plenty of warning about what was to come: at my contract signing, my supervisor at ECC intimated that this school is "rather" low-level, and may in fact be "special needs." When I asked what he meant by that, he mumbled something about the students having "problems at home" and gave me a reassuring smile. My predecessor had quit halfway through his contract...lucky me, that's how I managed to get a teaching job midway through the school year. My immediate supervisor here at Sakishima High School explained that there are 200 high schools in Osaka Prefecture, and this one is on the bottom. When I asked a few other teachers about that, they all laughed, considered it, and said something to the effect of, "Well, maybe not the very bottom." Homework is not assigned at this school (as with most Japanese schools). Students are moved up to the next grade even if they fail the previous class, meaning that I could expect a good mix of A students and kids who hadn't understood a word of the last three years of English class (again, as is the case with most Japanese schools). Last week, seven students from my school were caught shoplifting from the same convenience store. Also, I'm only assigned to the 1st-year classes.

Still, in my two days at this school without classes, things seemed to be all right. The students that I bumped into in the hall or in the English office each greeted me warmly with passable "goomoningu" or "herrohowahyou". One of them even gave me candy, and believed that I could do magic on the grounds that I had the same name as Harry Potter (when I discussed this student with one of the teachers afterwards, she assured me that this student is nice but "very unintelligent"; I just laughed awkwardly). How bad could it be? I'm up for a challenge!

I was told that my first class had 23 students, so I made sure to have 23 copies of the handout I'd made. At the bell, 9 students were in the room -- 3 more trickled in eventually. Two students slept the whole way through, two more were messaging on their cell phones (I learned to be very thankful to have such quiet students in the room). When a student's cell started ringing, he answered it and began speaking; when the teacher approached to say something to him in Japanese, he shushed her. After a brief exchange, he stepped out in the hall to take the call. I just kept smiling. "Be genki!" I was told. "Your enthusiasm for English will inspire the students!"

I gave my introductory presentation, interrupted only occasionally (OK, frequently) by the students' yelling to one another, to their friends in the hall, or to the teacher (who spoke to them entirely in Japanese). At the end of it, I asked if anyone had any questions. One girl asked the teacher something in Japanese, and the teacher translated for me: "She...she wants to know what language you're speaking." Another student asked if my hair was permed or naturally curly.

I asked if there were any more questions. One student excitedly shot his hand up in the air. "DO YOU LIKE SEX?" The teacher turned to me. I blinked and felt a trickle of sweat roll down my back. I explained, as slowly and clearly as possible, that that was a very personal question. The teacher said something in Japanese that began with "gaikokujin wa...", meaning she was talking about all foreigners. I kept smiling.

The student raised his hand again and smiled broadly. "DO YOU HAVE BIG PAY-NIS?" The teacher turned to me again, waiting expectantly for my answer. Somehow, they didn't cover this shit in my 3-hour training seminar at ECC Best Career. I very shakily told him that that, too, was a personal question. I'll talk about my junk at work as soon as they start letting me drink at work. I asked if any other students had questions, trying to speak loud enough to drown out the student who was shouting repetitions and variations on his question.

By the end of the class, the students who had written anything on the handout I gave them (a paragraph about me with simple comprehension questions at the bottom, stuff like "what country is Harry from?") had answered 3 of the 8 questions; those were the ones that the teacher had explained in Japanese and written the answers on the blackboard.

My second class was considerably better, happily. Roughly the same amount of work completed on the handout, but thankfully, fewer questions, and the majority of the students were much quieter. That was the best class I'll be teaching, I'm told.

I've already learned to really hate the cutest girls and the boys with the ridiculous anime hair; the former, as in American high schools, seem to be the most aggressively obnoxious, and the latter are given to withering sarcasm. I'm 24 years old, I've been out of high school for 6 goddamn years, I've owned two cars, I'm married, I've traveled extensively, I've got two degrees, and I'm still scared as hell of the derision of the popular high school kids.

A disheartening start to the new job? Sure, a bit. But I really do believe what I told everyone who warned me about how difficult this school is: I'm up for a challenge, and this may be where I can do the most good for my students, even if it's frustrating or awkward. At any rate, I've hit a gold mine for blog material.

P.S.: I apologize if I have been bad about returning e-mails lately; as my Facebook status will bear out, Gmail seems to be the only website that's blocked on the school computer. This blog post is sponsored by Harry Not Having Much to Do at Work, Inc.