– Paper, papier. Pen, crayon. Table, table. Chair, chaise. Blackboard, tableau. Notebook, cah.…
I wish John would shut up. But you see, John is so enthusiastic about his French training that he has to mumble vocabulary on his way to class. For now, I’m trying to open the bloody classroom door. Stuck, as usual. Or… do I have the right set of keys?
– Keys, clés.
John added a new word to his vocabulary. He’s already pulling his electronic translator out of his briefcase to check the translation. John is fifty-something. He’s an executive. His employees dread his well-known outbursts — he’s your basic workaholic. The guy is a bit short-tempered, indeed. But here, John is Jean and he learns French. No choice: his position was recently changed to bilingual imperative.
The door finally opens and I let John in. The class won’t start before another 30 minutes and I just have the time to eat my sandwich. Another day at work. I pull a brown paper bag out of my bag and grab a newspaper. Hopefully, John will get the message. I’m just coming from a three hours class at the City Hall and the last thing I want to do right now is small talk. This is my sanity time. Before another three hours class.
Thirty minutes later, people are gathering in the hallway. If I don’t open the door wide, they won’t come in. Despite the fact that the room has a huge glass door and they can see me sitting at the far end of the big meeting table. I wonder how long they would wait but I don’t feel like experimenting today. I get up and go open the door.
Students come in, chatting. A couple of them are still hooked up to their Blackberry and all of them place their cellphone on the table in front of them.
– Carla won’t come today, she’s sick. Mike will be thirty minutes late. Greg won’t be here.
I sometimes wish I could require a note from their parents. Unfortunately, it’s very unlikely my students will do it. After all, they are all between 30 and 60. I’m the baby of the class but they take me seriously. They’d better. I’m the teacher.
I let them chat for a couple of minutes while I pull out my folders and my pens. I then raise my voice:
– Ça va bien aujourd’hui ?
I carry about thirty photocopies with me. Time to lighten my bag: I distribute them and try to bribe my students in taking the absentees’ copy. No way I’m bringing them back next week, only to find out more people didn’t show up.
Alright, time to correct the assignments. I asked them to write a letter, let’s see what they came up with. I love correcting papers. Armed with my slightly leaking red pen, I read aloud and scribble notes in the margins. I dissect. I explain. Clearing up a specific grammar point makes me happy. It’s like untangling a knot. I can tell whether my students understand just by looking at them. So far so good—they even take notes today. Such attentiveness isn’t common: the classroom is a place for drama, a place to vent a bit, to forget the hierarchy. I often compare the Canadian government to the “1984″ novel: some words don’t make any sense (“accountability”, “person-month”…) nor do some politics.
This is a writing class. Students have a pretty good French level but they need to practice their writing because they all hold bilingual positions. Each class, I give them assignment: usually writing a short letter, an email, minutes of a meeting etc. Problem is, when they print out their paper at the office, a few of them reported it was mistakenly sent to translation. Indeed, English speakers are required to have anything they write translated by the translation bureau. No matter how good their French is. What’s the point of this class, then? Well, in theory, they have to be able to write in French. But it will never happen. So, when they print out their assignment, my students have to specify it’s for their French classes, otherwise, it’s corrected and translated automatically. Stupid politics, I said…
One of the students looks like she’s on the verge of tears. This is typically a case of “I failed the competition for a new position”. What adds to her misery is the fact that mumbling John was sitting at the panel—I’ll learn that at the end of the class. Ouch. There’s more drama in my classroom than in the OC.
Take the woman sitting at the far left. She’s obviously pregnant. Very pregnant as a matter of fact. But she didn’t mention it, probably because she can’t: her manager is sitting in front of her and she didn’t officially tell him. So we all have to pretend she’s not pregnant. Office policy: she will tell him when she’s sure she can take her maternity leave and meanwhile, we avoid looking at her nice rounded belly.
By the end of the class, I have usually finished my big bottle of water and I have red ink all over my hands. I let them go ten minutes earlier—so that they get a chance to linger a bit. I provided three hours of freedom. Teaching 101: stay away from office politics.
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Um…what does Ça “va bien aujourd’hui” mean??? 😳
That’s why I alwasy subbed for the young grades. I didn’t want to deal with any kind of soap opera drama with the high schoolers.
Great post Zhu! I love teaching too ^^ but I didn’t have all those troubled students xD Mine where around 20, 21 years old, I just had to deal with the boyfriends and girlfriends chatting during class 🙄
I have immense regard for teachers. Esp teachers of Special Ed and Elementary. Ive subbed, volunteered, and taught a few classes at my kids’ school and I know the effort that goes into staying true to oneself.
You know weirdly, I couldn’t read any comments yesterday form home. But then again, I’d rather see, comment and blog-hop from work 😉
😆
It’s been such a long time since I stopped trying to teach anybody anything…
Hey Zhu,
I must say I loved this post; it caught my attention…it was like reading an excellent book!
It seems to me that the referred class is a very interesting: we have the super-diligent John, then the insecure pregnant lady, the class that knows that she’s pregnant but looks the other side, her best who probably knows that she’s expecting a baby but also pretends not to know…the teacher that watches all this as if watching a play…the characters coming out of a high-school play!
To add any other word would ruin the taste of it…
Cheers
Hiya Teacher (Is it Oh..La?) I wish I pick up French when I was a teenager in addition to Japanese…..who knows you might just be my teacher huh?
Being an adult learner, I will and would listen attentively and pay respect to my language teacher, afterall we are adults 🙂
Thank you for sharing 101 day Zhu 🙂 I can and could imagine the students’ attitude ya!
Great blog! I not only love the way your write, but also the template/artwork. Thank you for dropping in at my my blog the other day… Hope to get back to read some of your earlier posts.
Lori : “Ça va bien aujourd’hui” just means “How are you today”” No, I didn’t swear at them 😉
Aiglee : oh, yeah, young kids must be tough sometimes… and all the BF/ GF drama – I don’t think I could take it !
Rads: I now respect teachers, trust me ! 😆 I regret my behavior in High School… must be karma !
Trotter” but I get pay for it – makes a lot of difference 😉
Max: thanks, it does look like a play – my life looks like a play sometimes anyway ! You have an eye for spotting these kind of things… I didn’t even notice it at first !
Shionge: it’s cool you learned Japanese though, I guess it makes sense considering where you lie. I’d take you as a student : I’m sure you won’t be a problem !
Shantanu : thank you very much for the praise. I like your blog too – I find your analysis very pertinent and smart. I’ll be back !
Oof … though I would much rather be teaching adults than kids. I have no patience for the younger ones!
So essentially you are an all out “class act” then, lol [sorry couldnt resist the pun, heh]
It is interesting how people behave when bound by legislation and rigid office politics. I have to say that the teacher being the youngest in class is a nice surreal touch to the whole affair!
Oh well, nothing that the uberawesomeness that is Zhu can’t handle I am sure:)
I truly love the way you develope people into characters. It really helps the reader build an image of your class (although I dread to think what your characture of me would be if I was in your class….lol!). However, after working in HR for 14 years and having to counsel and discipline hundreds of adults, I agree that they are so much more complicated than children. I deeply admire teachers, they have the daunting task of shaping our future leaders.
……..I guess that means that we can blame teachers for the mess the world is in at the moment!!! LOL!!!! 😉
Best wishes as always ~ Graham 😀
thats a pretty damn good narrative over there! I enjoy ur way of writing 😛