Intrepid Girl Reporter

The music in Holly’s today is unusually bad. However, one of the girls watched my backpack while I went to the post office.

I meant to share these earlier:

Who Are We? New Dialogue on Mixed Race (NYTimes)

Mixed Messenger (NYTimes) 

I don’t think these articles say anything particularly new about race. And it would be disingenuous for me to say that I’ve ever truly suffered due to my ethnic background. I feel, quite honestly, that it’s been something from which I’ve benefited, almost like an advantage others might not have.

But yes, there are identity issues. Everyone has them; I, and others like me, might have a few more than the average bear. What I do like about these pieces is that they call attention to the fact that our notions of race are changing. I don’t fit into most categories, and neither will my children, and neither will theirs. Our spectrum, our heritage will continue to grow. The question is whether or not America, outside these elite circles where such a thing is a mark of distinction, can keep the same pace.

Actually, what I dreamt was a lot more mundane: that I had curly hair. And that I finished a poem.

MONDAY, 31 MARCH 2008

1G - The Price is Right

• introduced clap thing to control loud classes (i.e. I clap in a pattern and they clap back - much like Summerbridge)
• did it work? or did it work for girls?
• stop same kids from answering

1A - The Price is Right

• one girl way ahead of everyone else (understood me when I said they would make me go deaf)
• did clap thing

1-3 - The Price is Right

• ril low…some didn’t even remember me
• did clap thing
• did NOT make anyone cry this week

1I - The Price is Right

• not so hot…ACT punished them, didn’t get to game
• did clap thing but then they mimicked it (uh oh)

The copy shop people at my school live in this bizarre alternate universe. Whenever I go to the shop, the door is always closed (”to keep in the heat”), so I have to knock -

This kid who is - I don’t think he’s special ed, exactly, because he’s in my class, but he’s allowed to wander at will and no one seems to question his total absence of work - anyway, he just came into the teacher’s office and tried to take the Punisher’s cell phone. When I attempted to get it back, he tried to play keepaway.

Anyway. So in the copy shop, they have a television and an armchair, and whenever I go in there I’m interrupting either a soap opera or some sort of game show, and they’re always just sort of sitting there, chilling out and smoking. Sometimes they will do whatever job you need. Other times they’ll show the teachers how to do it and go back to socializing and TV watching. There are three people who work there, and I never see them anywhere else. They might live there.

Saturday I went to see KES’ concert, and he was mortified to find that I had brought him flowers, as, it turns out, he was not actually playing in the concert, although he does live at the orphanage. Actually, orphanage isn’t exactly the right term, because a lot of these kids have families who are still alive, but for whatever reason they’re wards of the state. Which, as you might imagine, carries a much greater stigma than having parents who are dead. Anyway, there were a number of my students performing, including a few students whom I didn’t even realize were my students, but I didn’t have enough flowers to give all of them one, so I let KES keep them, even though he tried to give them back.

Apparently a lot of the kids at the Child Welfare Center (which is what the orphanage is officially called) go to my school, because the center is maybe ten minutes away. Sweater Girl lives at the orphanage. So does this kid whose English is pretty good, but who is not particularly well behaved. I think to myself that I wouldn’t have guessed - but what am I expecting, smudges of soot?

This particular center is rather well appointed, I think - I visited the babies there once with Host Sister, and the older kids were rollerblading around, and the people seemed nice and the grounds looked pretty, etc., and at the concert on Saturday they had soloists who appeared to be from the Jeju Orchestra or similar. Of course, it probably still wasn’t the kids’ first choice. Still, though, I’m starting to reconceptualize my notion of orphanages. The foster care system is so flawed in so many ways. We have this very “Little Orphan Annie” idea of these places in America, but are they so much worse than being shuttled from family to family?

Another surprise from the weekend: I had always assumed that Host Sister wasn’t a particularly good English writer, given her extreme reluctance to do so. But I proofed a report she wrote yesterday, one that included words like “attractive” and “consistent” and referenced the phrase “the clothes make the man.” I feel like I don’t even know her.

Here, for your teaching pleasure:

Lesson 3 - The Price is Right! (lesson plan) 

Lesson 3 - The Price is Right! (PowerPoint) 

Lesson 4 - I Wish (all, incl. song)

Now in the archives as well. Enjoy.

[Dear Lee Myung Bak]…Please help the economy. I want my parents to smile.

- PopSongBoy #1

WEDNESDAY, 26 MARCH 2008

2-7 - The Price is Right

• Co-Teacher F doesn’t want them screaming out answers
• good efforts
• how can I channel the energy of that kid in the back?
• PopSongBoy #1 won AGAIN…next time don’t let that happen

2-6 - The Price is Right

• one of my louder good students got mad when Co-Teacher F punished her for being late
• liked game pretty well
• WotD: discount

2-11 - The Price is Right

• Soccer was here
• students well behaved/got a TON of letters
• Malcolm X agreed to read Holes - get him map for Kidari English Shop bookstore

2-10 - The Price is Right

• tried clapping thing for first time - worked well
• Co-Teacher F made them stop yelling (”was not my plan”)
• Min Ho incident

2-8 - The Price is Right

• what am I going to do with BeatBox Kid?
• LOST STUPID CHALK HOLDER
• clapping thing

1. I have lost maybe 4 different chalk holders. Chalk holders are highly coveted because they prevent your hands from getting chalky. Because they cost roughly $3.50, they are not kept in stock by the supply room. I was given two in the beginning. One of them disappeared from my desk. One of them I left in a classroom. Since then, I have received more, accidentally left those in classrooms too, and have run back literally two minutes later to find them gone, with the current teacher professing to have no knowledge of said chalk holder and the students looking as doofy and clueless as ever. Today I was given a chalk holder by one of my students and decided to keep it, as the other teachers keep keeping mine, but then he reclaimed it when I wasn’t looking on the grounds that it belonged to some other teacher. None of my students do this for me.

EDIT: One of my students returned a chalk holder to me! This was a high point in my teaching career. Last period, however, I left it in the classroom. I went back to get it ten minutes later - bear in mind that this is the last period of the day, and there are no more teachers in the room after me - and it was gone. There are no witnesses.

2. As previously mentioned, Miguk Oma sent me trail mix. I like to eat trail mix at my desk, as eating small snacks throughout the day prevents me from getting cranky. School etiquette says you are not supposed to really have private property. I have seen teachers eat breakfast at their desk, but that’s about it. So I’ve been trying to eat this surreptitiously, because it is food for a specific purpose and food that was sent to me from America and I don’t feel like I should have to share it, but then this science teacher who sits diagonally from me came up to me the other day and told me to give her some, thus blowing my cover. GREAT. I am now eating it only when there are three people or less in the office with me.

3. Soccer came to see one of my best classes today, which was fun. They liked her a lot. But once she left, I ran into some trouble with Co-Teacher F - he hit Min Ho in the head for talking too much, which is an ineffective way of dealing with him, and Min Ho got angry and refused to even try at the game. I am not allowed to share this info with Co-Teacher F, however, as he is about forty years my senior and it would be considered rude. Also, the BeatBox Kid, who used to be really nice before he decided he was going to be both a pro soccer player and a pro beatboxer, is more of a jerk every time we have class. BLAHGAH.

Other occurrences of note today: Moon River, who is chubby and has a lazy eye and is all around rather goony looking, proceeded to shout, during a review of numbers, “Million Dollar Baby!” In response to the quizzical stares of his classmates, he explained, “American movie.” (When I asked, he assured me that he had watched it, which is pretty impressive, considering I’ve never seen it.) Later, when I pulled up the Price is Right PowerPoint, he christened his team “Show Me The Money.” His knowledge of American pop culture continues to both baffle and inspire.

Then KES stopped me in the hall and gave me a ticket to what appears to be a handbell concert this Saturday. While he is in my top 5 of worst students, none of my best students ever invite me to anything.

Twice in ten minutes, if anyone’s counting.

2-4 - I Wish…

• Famous American: Nina Simone
• I could feel them dragging…this is such a confusing concept
• liked song

1-6 - The Price is Right

• well-behaved
• responsive to numbers (but didn’t know million)
• took threat of point subtraction seriously (GOOD)
• WotD: discount

2-2 - I Wish

• Famous American: Nina Simone
• started class with genie scenario, kids were receptive
• more “I Wish” examples necessary to fill time
  • ended up doing rhymes to finish class

2-3 - I Wish

• Co-Teacher E thinks they need more time to practice
• covered “I wish I could” and change of subjects (i.e. “I wish she could”)
• Famous American: Nina Simone
  • find picture of Nina Simone that students will not compare to: giraffe, monkey, me

I’m beginning to realize that I should have paid more attention in fifth grade. My knowledge of grammar is roughly comparable to the Supreme Court’s knowledge of pornography: I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it. Teaching the subjunctive is really hard. On an unrelated note, I tried to take a shower and discovered that the tub is covered in a fine matting of hair. I have come up with a number of explanations for this scenario, and none of them hold up. Maybe I’ll go to the jjimjilbang tomorrow instead.

Reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma makes me want to be a farmer, which is a bad idea for so many reasons I don’t have time to list them all here. Less self-destructively, it also makes me want to learn more about Wendell Berry, who comes from my state, or one of my states, at least. I regret that I didn’t learn more about him when I was there - I have friends who have recommended him to me before, but I was not fully appreciative of Kentucky at the time. Well. Now I am.

In A Motel Parking Lot, Thinking Of Dr. Williams

Wendell Berry
<!– Wendell Berry poem –>

I.

The poem is important, but
not more than the people
whose survival it serves,

one of the necessities, so they may
speak what is true, and have
the patience for beauty: the weighted

grainfield, the shady street,
the well-laid stone and the changing tree
whose branches spread above.

For want of songs and stories
they have dug away the soil,
paved over what is left,

set up their perfunctory walls
in tribute to no god,
for the love of no man or woman,

so that the good that was here
cannot be called back
except by long waiting, by great

sorrows remembered and to come
by invoking the thunderstones
of the world, and the vivid air.

II.

The poem is important,
as the want of it
proves. It is the stewardship

of its own possibility,
the past remembering itself
in the presence of

the present, the power learned
and handed down to see
what is present

and what is not: the pavement
laid down and walked over
regardlessly--by exiles, here

only because they are passing.
Oh, remember the oaks that were
here, the leaves, purple and brown,

falling, the nuthatches walking
headfirst down the trunks,
crying "onc! onc!" in the brightness

as they are doing now
in the cemetery across the street
where the past and the dead

keep each other. To remember,
to hear and remember, is to stop
and walk on again

to a livelier, surer measure.
It is dangerous
to remember the past only

for its own sake, dangerous
to deliver a message
you did not get.

1H - The Price is Right

• WotD: discount
• took away tickets bc too noisy
• only got through one part of game
• sent two kids to back of room for making fun of me
• computer broken

1B - The Price is Right

• WotD: discount
• game takes longer w/first graders
• make them write stuff down

1D - The Price is Right

• a little slow but perfect angels
• got to game
• computer broken
• WotD: discount

1J - The Price is Right

• rude, noisy, smelly
• but they seem pretty smart…
• Co-Teacher F actually kicked me out so she could punish them (ergo, no game)
• WotD: discount

I discovered a new kind of orange (I’ve heard there are five on Jeju) that is smaller than a golf ball. You eat the peel and all. It’s incredibly delicious, although in retrospect it was probably a bad idea to stick them in my eyes in an effort to make my baby host cousin laugh. (It didn’t work.)

The other day at dinner Punisher told me how much he likes sitting next to me in the gyomushil. Fab. But I did get an awesome Easter package from home that included Trinidads, Mounds Eggs, Reeses Eggs (does the joy never end?), and Phase 10.

I’m currently trying to plan what appears to be the only ESL lesson in existence based on Skee-Lo’s “I Wish.” The plan is to teach my students a) the construction “I wish,” b) how to rhyme, and c) the word “baller.” I suspect, however, I’m going to end up using Nina Simone’s “I Wish I Knew How It Feels To Be Free,” which is also a good song, but one which mentions neither ballers nor Impalas.

In the meantime, I’ll try to post the Price is Right lesson soon. The election lesson needs some pretty serious modification before it can be put up.

And since I’m on the subject of Ms. Simone, I’ll go ahead and Recommend one of my favorite songs of hers:

Nina Simone - Mississippi Goddamn 

You can download most of the rest of that album here. I’m not sure why I don’t have all the songs.

EDIT: I went to Mass today in short sleeves, because it was the only remotely springlike outfit I could find, and HM asked me three different times if I was going to be cold. People at church asked me if I was cold. Complete strangers came up to me, rubbed my arms, and asked me if I was cold. HM had HB call me to ask if I was cold later. When I came home, HM asked me if I was cold. And now that it is 11:11 PM and I am wearing pants and a sweatshirt, HD just came in and asked me if I was cold today. I GET IT. Isn’t there a point in your life where how cold you are becomes no one’s business but your own?

In case you were wondering exactly why this country sometimes makes me want to stick my finger directly into my eye sockets and twist it around, I give you the following conversation from today.

(Host Brother jumps out and scares me, twice, which is, as Host Brother knows, a particular dislike of mine.)

(Host Mom wants Host Brother to be in the English Book Club. There is no room in the English Book Club, and the book is probably too hard. Also, I need a Host Brother-free space.)

(Host Mom and Host Dad want Host Brother to go to America. Host Brother is not mature enough for this. I remind him that if he goes, he has to be nice, to which he agrees and then, thirty seconds later, says, “You think I am bad boy. Yes? Okay. Ommaaaa!” Then he holds his arm in front of my face for no reason.)

(Host Mom offers to drive me to English Book Club. While I appreciate this, I am not in a particularly friendly mood after these incidences.)

HM [something in Korean]

HB Do you have a mind to stay in Korea?

IGR No, I don’t think so. I will be leaving in July.

HB [something in Korean]

HM [something in Korean]

HB So you don’t like Korea.

IGR That’s not what I said.

HB So you don’t like Korea.

IGR Of course I love Korea. You know that. It’s just that, you know, I have to have other jobs too before I can get into grad school.

HB I see. [something in Korean]

HM [something in Korean]

HB So when will you get married?

One thing I’ve noticed about living here is that if you say no to something, people will just keep asking you until you cave under the pressure. Soccer and I were discussing this yesterday, attempting to discern when it is acceptable to say no and when it is not, and I was reminded again today as I sat in the car and found myself thinking: They might take it as a personal affront if I don’t want to stay in Korea for another year. Should I stay longer? I could stick it out, right? before I realized that that is a terrible rationalization for doing anything, especially things you don’t want to do.

…

The Catholic Church teaches that there are certain kinds of mysteries in the life of Jesus - joyful, sorrowful, glorious, and (apparently) luminous (that one is new, I guess, and I just learned about it thanks to Google - obviously I follow this sort of thing pretty closely). While I would like to point out that I am not trying to be heretical here, and I am not trying to say that I have ever, for example, been visited by an angel, the concept of mysteries and their presence and importance in our own lives seems like a useful thing to contemplate, especially when living abroad, regardless of your belief system.

It is a mystery to me, for example, how I can go from wanting to hitch a ride on the nearest plane home to being present at the first meeting of the EBC, where I can be surrounded by excited (if rain-dampened) faces who wanted to spend their Saturday afternoon talking about books in English. We’re reading Holes, which is by one of my favorite YA authors, Louis Sachar; it’s funny and poignant and, rather conveniently for us, was made into a movie. I love Sachar because his books are funny, he allows his characters to take themselves seriously, and he isn’t afraid to give them serious things to think about. And he’s got a lovely absurdist streak. (Although I do get him mixed up sometimes with Jerry Spinelli. Maniac Magee is a lot heavier, though.) The kids seem like they’ll love him too. I swear, my heart grew three sizes that day.

Today I also learned that Kind Mother, who is a member of the book club and who has always struck me as something of an odd duck anyway, owns twelve (!!!) hamsters. This is a mystery to me as well.

Anyway, these are not exactly the Sacred Mysteries. But when you leave your sphere (or your country, for that matter), you discover that there are certain matters that it’s helpful to accept while acknowledging your own basic inability to understand fully, and that the very nature of the mystery itself might be rewarding, even if the matter at hand is aggravating enough that you want to get out of your host mom’s car and run straight into traffic. I’m still leaving in July, but I imagine that it will take me at least until then to contemplate these matters, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

2L - The Price is Right

• got a few letters (a really good one from the balding kid)
• liked game (had to do it without powerpoint…again)

2I - The Price is Right

• Tried having them write words in English, but it took too long
• talked to Monkey and Dwight Shrute about doing more advanced work
  • I feel bad about this because I know they’re not the only ones who can do it, they’re just the most noticeable - keep watching for others
  • Monkey looked a little embarrassed, so don’t make a big deal out of it

2E - The Price is Right

• Cutest Student Ever was the ONLY one who wrote a letter…and then I lost it
  • something about how GW is killing Korean farmers
• liked game pretty well

My lack of willpower is well documented, as is my inability to be a pioneer of any sort, but I did try to fast today. I did. I almost made it to dinner, but then I ate a piece of Cadbury Soft English Toffee Chocolate. Just one. I didn’t do anything today because of the aforementioned lack of willpower, as well as the fact that my pangs of hunger convinced me (pretty persuasively) that I just couldn’t work because I was, you know, starving. I am an embarrassment.

I had planned on skipping out of the first grade teachers’ dinner, even though it was (raw) fish, but then I decided that while I wasn’t supposed to have fun on Good Friday, teachers’ dinners that don’t involve English teachers exclusively actually aren’t that much fun, because I have no idea what’s going on and people try to force me to eat things I don’t want. I sat next to Co-Teacher B, who came this semester from Seoul and who (bless her heart) hates seafood, so I didn’t have a bad time, but I don’t think it qualified as entertainment.

It’s been a strange enough experience having to explain this day to everyone, especially as a person not particularly given to proselytizing, and breaking it down into three-word Korean sentences makes me realize exactly how surreal it must sound. Today: Cathedral Holiday. I don’t eat meat. I don’t eat. Later, eating okay. I eat fish. Go out no. It all sounds as arbitrary as, I don’t know, making your bridegroom do pushups.

But not having anyone to talk to at dinner gave me time to reflect on this season and my favorite telling of it: Sufjan Stevens’ “The Transfiguration.” My love for Stevens (and especially his album Seven Swans) is old news, but I think this song strikes me most simply because all it is is a retelling of a very old story - there are no fancy lyrical metaphors, and as a person who is constantly trying to dress everything up, I am impressed by his ability to tell a story in a straightforward manner and make it so universally appealing. In other words, Seven Swans is a quiet, intimate work, wholly concerned with Stevens’ relationship with God. We’re all lucky he didn’t fall into the standard Christian Musician trap of emotional over-wroughtness. He relies on the story (and some sweet banjos) to carry us.

When he took the three disciples to the mountainside to pray
His countenance was modified, his clothing was aflame
Two men appeared; Moses and Elijah came
They were at his side
The prophecy, the legislation spoke of whenever he would die

Then there came a word
Of what he should accomplish on the day
Then Peter spoke, to make of them a tabernacle place
A cloud appeared in glory as an accolade
They fell on the ground
A voice arrived, the voice of God
The face of God, covered in a cloud

What he said to them
The voice of God: the most beloved son
Consider what he says to you, consider what’s to come
The prophecy was put to death
Was put to death, and so will the Son
And keep your word, disguise the vision till the time has come

Lost in the cloud, a voice: Have no fear! We draw near!
Lost in the cloud, a sign: Son of man! Turn your ear!
Lost in the cloud, a voice: Lamb of God! We draw near!
Lost in the cloud, a sign: Son of man! Son of God!

Technically these are from yesterday’s classes. I’ve been swamped as of late.

2D

Dear Mr. President,

Hello my name is *******. I have lived Jeju, Korea. I have a wish to you. Please don’t fight other country. I don’t like war. I’m very afraid of the war. Please, Don’t fight!!!! March 18th, 2008.

.

.

.

2C

Dear President Bush,

Hello. I’m Korean. [crossed out crossed out crossed out] I think, you didn’t relate all [indistinguishable Korean]. But I have misteries. I also think, you have many secrets. Because I believe, you aren’t evil. Maybe you should retire president of USA becase USA will elect other president. It important for you to think.

.

.

.

Deer. Bush

Bush president. Hello!

My name is *****. I’m Korean. Your USA president. them you will people loves and good human. Bush president! people love you, you must love people. You are great president. Bye~~

From: ******

.

.

.

Dear. George W. Bush.

Hello President Bush. I am a student ********. I think you verry handsome. Bush! FTA is very bad. Ok? I love you Bush

bye-bye

From ********

.

.

.

Hi Myung Bak ~

I’m *********** Umm… Oh! Congreturation~But, we not want study Engilsh. Why? Because we are Korean. We are not American Ok? SO. I’m not study Engilsh hard. Bye ~

.

.

.

To. George W. Bush.

Hello~! My name is ******. I’m a student. I live in the Jeju in Korea and I go to a **** middle school. I have many questions.

1. I want to live in the peace. What about you?
2. How about the 9.11?

Please tell me these answers.

.

.

.

To. Our president, Myeong Park.

Hi~Myeong Park. I am *******. I live in Jeju and I go to Jeju ******** Middle School. My friends want more holidays. I know you can’t make more holidays. Because for Korea! My friends don’t want to have a test. Also I don’t want to have a test, but I think we must know our own scores. Then we must study hard to change our scores better than before. For our dream. Myeong Park, I know you can’t. I wrote just our opinion (hope). Don’t mind about it. Then bye~

From. *******

.

.

.

Dear Mr president I hate you! Why? test very mach! ok?

form. ********

.

.

.

To. Lee Myung Bak President.

Hi my name is ***********. I think you have bad judgement bad because your judgement give pain to our. I also think you are very bad because we don’t know Korean well we learn also English. Do you have brain? Maybe you should promise No English test.

Bye Bye~ from *****Middle school student

.

.

.

Dear Lee Myung Bak president.

Hello, my name is ************. I think we are help poor people. Because they are a people (?) [sic]. And I also think change the world. Because we are worrying the environment, hanger, war and poverty. Maybe you should try to succeed. Because we are still expect to you. It is important for you to Korea. Because your parents, your house, your son, your daughter, your wife and your peoples in Korea.

See you again. Bye.

.

.

.

.

WEDNESDAY, 19 MARCH

2F (out of order) - Waiting on the World to Change

• not too bad, but a little bit of a struggle to keep them on track
• kept to original plan (didn’t work v. well)

2G - Waiting on the World to Change

• this is not the PopSongBoys show
• that kid in the front…
• switched lesson around, did opinions first
• Co-Teacher F doesn’t care if I change lesson but thinks should at least stick to same topic
• did that mentally disabled kid keep trying to touch my foot?

2K - Waiting on the World to Change

• focused more on giving opinion/had kids write letters in class
• reinforced concepts, kept them on track
• find book for Malcolm X
• had talk with little kid who refuses to do work but speaks English - name?

2J - Waiting on the World to Change

• lesson entirely without powerpoint (”Who is America’s president?”)
• quiet against all odds
• collect letters next week

2H - Waiting on the World to Change

• weird orange substance on sleeve - which student stuck it there?
• didn’t really do work very well
• I thought they were okay but Co-Teacher F chewed them out for something (?) - rather worrisome

I realize that I have no right to be exhausted by teaching. My high school teachers taught five classes every day (albeit to students who spoke their language). Increasingly, however, I realize that my fatigue on Wednesdays - and most days, really - comes from the fact that teaching, in a lot of ways, means performing. You get up there and, three or four or five times a day, you put on an interactive one-woman show called “Hey, Let’s Learn English!” Sometimes the audience is responsive, and they respond to your calls for volunteers to come on stage, and some days it’s pretty clear that the only reason they came is because Cirque du Soleil or the Lee Greenwood Show was all sold out. But it doesn’t matter. Your job depends on those reviews.

In unrelated news, I’m really excited that “The Office” is coming back on April 10th.