Final English Lesson: Zombie

I just finished my second to last week teaching English in Thailand. Another semester is nearly in the books, and I am on my final month in this country. Rather than cram one last lesson into my classes before the final exam I decided to let my students (and myself) relax for a few days before the study sessions begin. My students and I may never meet again after this month, so good advice told me to just have fun at school. Enjoy our final days with the all time favorite Asian hobby, karaoke.

Students at my school love to sing, especially popular English songs. I hear just as many One Direction or Nicki Minaj songs at my school as I would teaching back in the US. I had assumed my classes would want to listen to a lineup of Maroon 5, Selena Gomez, and other mindless pop songs. However, the first song requested was “Zombie” by the Cranberries.

Weird.

Awesome.

There is still hope for the musical tastes of the youth.

Conformity/Camaraderie in Thai Schools

The official tagline for my school is “Takpittayakhom School. A world class standard school”. This line is in reference to Takpittayakhom (TPS) meeting the standards set out by the Thai government for a top-tier secondary education school. Criteria such as test scores, specialty programs offered, facility and faculty size, and so on. However, whenever I see the sign proudly displaying that logo at the front of my school I can’t help but think of the second definition of the word standard; to be normal, average, to not stick out. There is a certain structure in place at TPS, and in fact many Thai schools, that values cohesion and convention over individuality and distinctiveness. I do not mean to offer up Thai students as dull or lifeless. Each student does have their own personality, like any kid. The difference is only noticeable when groups of Thai students are together. While grouped, my students demonstrate a special camaraderie that does not set one student apart from the others.

The most striking examples are the student uniform and required haircuts. All boys must have a military style buzz cut, and all girls must have their hair cut to ear-level. A few exceptions are made for girls who take part in traditional Thai dances, but the vast majority of girls at TPS have the same bucket haircut. Obviously it is tough to stand out when all of your friends wear their hair and clothes identical to you, so instead the students seem to embrace their uniformity. Long after school hours, when I pass by my students roaming the night markets with their friends, most of the group will still be wearing their school issued shirt and pants. Never minding the fact that they sweated all day in non air-conditioned classrooms, I had thought my students would want to wear new clothes to show off some fashion in the evenings. Instead I see my students voluntarily wearing uniforms at nighttime which are mandatory during the daytime. I also see students from other schools in our town walking around the market in their respective uniforms. It’s easy to spot students from other schools based on the color or style of their uniform. I now realize the cohesion amongst students that attend the same school influences their outfit decision. Students have pride and want to be seen as a pack, much like sports fans wear jerseys displaying their team colors. My students don’t rush home after school and rip their uniforms off before the front door closes behind them. Rather, they hang around school after hours, breaking off into small groups to head off to the market or grab some dinner, still in their school uniforms because they are still students. They like to be easily identified and affiliated with their own schools.

 

After school soccer games are still played in uniform, with athletic pants.

 

Another example of Thai student group-think is evident when I pose a difficult question in the classroom. My English classes are listening and speaking focused so the majority of class time is spent engaging students in English conversation. It is sometimes necessary for me to ask a single student a question in front of the whole class. To explain a new topic I’ll ask a student a question which they already know how to answer. I will then follow up with a new question expanding on the previously learned vocabulary.

For example:

Me: “What is your nickname?

Student: “My nickname is Earth”

Me: “What city do you live in?”

Student: “I live in Tak”

Me: “How long have you lived in Tak?”

Student: ……

Before asking the question, I know that the student will not immediately understand how to answer. I attempt to pose questions that the students can figure out given a few moments of critical thought. Unfortunately, the instant a student does not understand the question I have asked, they break into team huddle with their friends. Five or six students will form a circle leaning over their desks debating in fast, furious Thai the meaning of my words. Their confused and anxious faces will bounce off each other until it is determined if one student in the group has any grasp of the concept. They don’t mind if this process takes 10 minutes of deliberation. When this happens I have to intervene. I tap the original student on the shoulder and ask him the same question. How long have you lived in Tak? He will give me an uncomfortable smile, then turn his head back into the team huddle. Finally, by group consensus, one student will tell me “Teacher, don’t know”, though the original student might not even be the one responding.

 

In the first few months of teaching I was annoyed by this behavior. I felt like the students were cheating, not willing to learn something for themselves. It was a shock to me coming from the America, where there is a clearly defined asker and askee. Now I have come to view this method of answering questions not as cheating, but as team oriented. It is not that they are unable to think for themselves, but instead prefer thinking together.

As stated, Thai students feel a strong sense of solidarity. Classes at TPS do not break off to different courses throughout the day. They travel with the same group for each and every subject. Since the students stay in the same collection for every class of every day, their attitude is we are in this together. When I ask a student a question, I am actually challenging the entire class that question. A team challenge requires a team effort, so naturally the students put their heads together to solve the problem at hand. Team affiliation doesn’t stop after school hours, so students have no qualms remaining in uniform. They are publicly displaying their collective spirit. Two minds are greater than one, and one team is greater than many teammates.

 

How to teach Sex-Ed/ESL

As I mentioned in my post last week, I now teach Health in addition to English at my school in Thailand. As part of my health curriculum I have to teach my students sexual education. This proved challenging, not because of awkwardness, but because of the language barrier.

My students speak a decent level of English, but some words associated with sexual education were new to them. As is common to my English classes, I decided I needed a repertoire of gestures and pantomimes to explain some of the popular vocabulary words. I created the following list in order to help future Sex-Ed/ESL teachers through a difficult lesson unit.

The old “condom on a banana” demonstration is overdone.

Erection

-Sit in a chair at the front of class, with a slide show playing on a screen behind you. Have a few simple pictures run across the screen, a meadow, a bus, maybe a football game, and say “Not excited”. Then have a picture of Angelina Jolie flash on the screen and rapidly stand up out of your chair. Say “Now excited!” Point at your crotch and explain to the students “like that, in pants”.

Pregnant

– This one is easy, just make a large belly motion in front of your stomach. Be sure to say, “Not fat, have baby.” Point at your chest and say “also bigger” while giving the boys a wink.

Menstruation

– Say “girls only” and point at your groin. Next say “some blood, but O.K.” and give a reassuring thumbs-up. Make eye contact with the boys in the class and say “be careful, don’t speak.”

Intercourse

– Classic example we all learned with our friends in grade school. Hold up your right hand with your index finger extended. With you left hand form a circle between the thumb and index finger. Push your right index finger in and out of the circle formed by your left hand. Wink a lot. Consider bringing some speakers to class and playing Marvin Gaye or Usher.

Orgasm

-Continue the above stated intercourse gesture while noticeably increasing the speed of the right hand.  Cleverly hide a small bottle of glue in the right hand, to be used for an obvious reason. Progress to a very rapid motion, then loudly say “best part!” You may want to have a video with clips of rocket launches or roller coaster hills at this time. Afterwards smoke a cigarette with your left hand, while you rest your right hand on the table and say “this one sleepy.”

Condom

– Use the same hand configurations as above, but wear a rubber glove on your right hand.  Pretend to break the glove, so you can demonstrate to your students how to quickly replace it. Also, consider playing Don’t worry, be happy  by Bob Marley over the classroom speakers. Assume a very relaxed, but mature demeanor.  Point out the fact that you did not have to use any glue this time.

Birth Control

– Pantomime the act of taking a pill. Again, extend your right index finger while making a circle with your left hand. In your left palm hold a padlock, so the students know that right index finger won’t be causing any trouble. To really make it sink in, casually toss the rubber glove over your shoulder while smirking. Say “No need.”

Sexually Transmitted Disease

– Pour some ink on your left hand. Say “sick, not well” while holding up your left hand. Then repeat the intercourse gesture, making sure to spread the ink from your left hand to your right. Hold up both hands afterwards so that the students can see both inky hands. Say “Both sick. Permanent.”

Pregnancy test

– Reference the intercourse pantomime, and say “see the glue?” Next make your left hand into a fist, making sure the students can’t see your palm. Have the students guess whether your palm has glue or not. Afterwards, explain “like that, but with a baby.”

The Bumbling Health Teacher

While in university I majored in kinesiology, the study of human movement and mechanics. My courses focused on physiology, biomechanics and anatomy. It was very helpful to earn a bachelor’s degree in kinesiology for my first job as a personal trainer. Until recently it had not proven useful for my current job, teaching English in Thailand.

 

It’s taken a long time to fully explain the nature of my degree to my school coordinator. It’s hard to describe kinesiology to Americans, let alone Thais speaking English as their second language.

 

“What was your university degree?”

“My degree was in kinesiology. It is the study of exercise science.”

“Oh, science!”

“Well, yes… exercise science.”

“You can be science teacher!”

(exasperated sigh)

 

For the first semester my Thai co-teachers insisted on a daily basis that I should switch to teaching science in the following term. Each time I would remind them that I was not willing qualified to be a science teacher. I managed to remain an English teacher for my entire first term, however things have changed this semester. The staff at my school must have finally grasped what majoring in kinesiology entails, so they found an additional class for me to lead. I am now an English/Health teacher!

When I first learned that I was to be the health teacher I was actually excited. My subject includes physical education (P.E.) in its curriculum. Instilling an appreciation for physical activity and athleticism in the youth is always a great feeling for a kinesiology major. Those of us who focused on exercise science in university love when we finally break through to someone, showing them the copious benefits of physical activity. In a country where I see most adolescents either shopping at the mall or playing computer games during their limited free time, I pictured myself becoming role model. An adult who regularly engages in, and loves movement and exercise. I could show them the fun side of exercising, and its positive impacts on both mental and physical health. However, immediately after learning I would be the new P.E. teacher, and fantasizing about the positive impact I could have on young minds, my dreams were crushed.

 

You see, P.E. classes in Thailand (or at least at my school) are not based on sampling a wide variety of activities as were my classes back in the US. Instead each grade focuses on learning one sport over the course of a semester. Grade 1 might play volleyball, while grade 2 studies badminton all term, and grade 3 only plays basketball. My assigned class will be playing Takraw, a very famous sport in Thailand.

This is Takraw.

 

Imagine playing volleyball with your feet and head. Plus the ball is made out of wicker

 

I am terrible at Takraw. I lack the foot-eye coordination to be of any use to my team. Plus, before I became the Takraw instructor I had never even seen a live game played. In no context should I be considered a Takraw coach.

My students, on the other hand, have mad Takraw skills

 

I don’t want to back down from a challenge, but even my students can tell I am not qualified for my position. When we stand in a circle and kick-pass the ball to each other, I tend to accidently punt the ball across the sports field. This always gets a laugh and a “teacha not so good!” from my students. When I told my school coordinator about my lack of Takraw ability, she assured me everything was okay. It doesn’t matter if I’m lousy at the game, I have enough authority as a teacher to lead any course. Over the course of the semester the students and I will all learn how to play Takraw. Together. Communal skill building. But I’m still in charge.

 

This brings me to my last point. I will be struggling all semester to hide my lack of Tak’raw ability from my students during our first two classes. Although I embarrass myself in P.E. class twice a week, it’s far less awkward than the third time I meet my class every week. In that last class, speaking in a foreign language for the students, I have been ordered to teach reproductive health and sex ed. At least I’m qualified.

11-year-olds are afraid of me

It’s the last week of the semester here at Takpittayakhom school. Seniors are excited to move on to the next phase of their life, whether it’s college or the workforce, and all other classes are ready to move up a grade. This also means that a new group of kids will come in as level one students. Takpittayakhom is a secondary school meaning it has students at the equivalent of American middle school and high school levels (ages 12-18). One of the special programs offered at Takpittayakhom is the Mini English Program (MEP) in which the majority of classes are taught in English. This means that the students learn science, math, art, etc. from an English speaking teacher and the entire class is conducted using English. MEP students have a great advantage to practice English so often, and in a scholarly context, so many students want to enroll in this program. MEP is capped at 30 students per grade, so entrance is competitive. The incoming level one students (and/or their parents) all want to get into MEP to gain an advantage for university applications later on. Only students with the best English skills are accepted into the program, and their English skills are partially determined by an interview by Takpittayakhom teachers. Earlier this week my school coordinator asked if I would be available to be an MEP interviewer over the weekend and, seeing as how I had no travel plans, I accepted.

Main building at my school

 

On Saturday 140 grade six students would come to Takpittayakhom for an interview. English teachers were paired up and placed in a room. Students entered the room and sat at our table one by one and were asked a few questions in English. The questions were all very basic. “Tell me about yourself” and “what’s your favorite kind of…” type questions. The kids have studied for a couple years, but their level of English is very low.  Each teacher was given a list of 30 students on a 5 category table. Us teachers were given a score sheet with five categories, fluency, sentence structure, vocabulary, listening, and pronunciation. In each category we were told to score the students between 0 and 5, so that the highest possible score was 25. No problem. Talk to 30 little kids one at a time and then grade their English skills. I was quickly reminded of how nervous Thai students are in front of foreign teachers. Over the past 4 months my current students have become much more comfortable around me and are far less nervous speaking English with me. However, at the beginning of the semester my students would take 5 minutes to answer a question as simple as “What is your name?” even when they had just practiced the same question with their friends. From what I understand in Thai culture it is embarrassing to give an incorrect answer. American mottos like there are no stupid questions and practice makes perfect are lost on my Thai students. Perhaps a more fitting saying for students is It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubts. Luckily after weeks and weeks of being approachable and friendly my students learned that it was okay to say things a little off or guess an answer to one of my questions. Over 16 weeks I made sure to never tease a student for giving a wrong answer and encouraged a lot of talking in class. This meant that I was screwed for the 5 minutes I had with those little 11 year olds I was interviewing. Five minutes alone speaking to a foreigner was the stuff of nightmares for these kids.

Open air hallways. Picture 140 little kids waiting on those benches.

Each interviewee would say good afternoon as they approached my table, followed by a clearly rehearsed sentence telling me how old they are and what school they attend. Typically that first sentence was the only time the kids would be able string together more than six English words consecutively. For the rest of the interview the kids were far too nervous to think or speak clearly. After one student told me his name I asked “What is your favorite sport?” He looked at me for a few seconds, shook his head and then started tearing up. This of course made me feel terrible so I tried consoling the poor kid.

“No no no, its okay! Here example. My favorite sport is football (as I pointed at myself) What is your favorite sport? (pointing at him)”

The distraught kid looked up at me and said “football”, then returned to looking down at the table. The rest of his interview progressed about as smoothly. I would tell him something about myself followed by a question about him. His answers were always one or two words, and generally words that I had already said. After 5 minutes this little guy was emotionally exhausted, and I figured I had tortured him with questions enough so I let him leave. He stood up, bowed to my co-interviewer and I, thanked us and left. Then we had to grade him.

 

“Well, he was cute as hell but couldn’t speak a lick of English” I said to my partner.

“Yeah I feel bad, but his English level is pretty low” she concurred.

The criteria for a score of zero included apprehension, one word answers, and little to no understanding of the posed questions. The criteria for a score of five said the kid should speak consistently and promptly answer questions with a good vocabulary. Clearly he was not a five, but we both did not want to give any students a score of zero. For each of the five categories we scored him at 2.

 

The rest of the kids were just as nervous and often just as slow at answering. The first kid was the only one on the verge of tears, but plenty others looked as comfortable as an eleven year old in a dentist’s chair. I don’t consider myself an intimidating guy, but in these kids’ eyes I was the boogeyman. Me being my sarcastic self, I couldn’t help but think this was all actually pretty funny. I am writing about it after all. One of the funnier moments went like this.

 

“What is your favorite sport?” I asked The Kid

(The Kid looks at me, my partner, the table, the window, the door, the window again, then back at me.)

“…What is your favorite sport?” I repeated.

“Um….” The Kid says while kicking his legs against the table.

“I like football. What sport do you like?”

“….no” he said to me with surprising conviction.

“…Okay.” I guess he’s more of the book type.  “What school subject do you like?”

(The Kid repeats the process of looking around the room.)

“What school subject your favorite?” I asked trying to make it very simple.

“Beautiful” The Kid responds.

I honestly started laughing when The Kid told me this. I wasn’t laughing at his level of English. He can speak about as much English as I can Thai. Plus I have over a decade on him. I was laughing at how bizarre the situation was. I have no knowledge of children’s psychology, I don’t know what traits to look for in successful students, nor am I one of the coordinators of the MEP program. I am an intimidating foreigner that 20 students had to speak with on a Saturday afternoon rather than play with their friends.

 

After my interview with The Kid I tried to make my interviews as fast and pain-free as possible for the students. I asked real basic questions and kept each interview to only about five questions. A couple students were at a pretty good level of English. They could tell me whether or not they had siblings, what they did yesterday, and their favorite food. Since they were a long way from the score of 5 criteria, the highest score my partner and I issued was 3 in any category.

 

After my partner and I completed our interviews and were back in the office comparing scores with the other teachers we came across an alarming realization. Looking over the other teachers’ score cards we saw plenty of 3’s, 4’s and 5’s, with rarely any 1’s. With 5 categories of 5 points apiece the highest score a student could receive was 25. The other teachers actually had a couple students score a 25 and plenty of others scored in the 20’s. It seemed their students’ average score was 18. On the other hand, the average score of my interviewees was 8, with the highest being a 14. What was going on? Were they sending all the “special” applicants to my partner and I?

 

No. Not at all. As it turns out, the other teachers ignored the page listing the criterion for scores. Instead they used a subjective scale of 1-5 with the best students receiving 5’s and the rest of the students somewhat scored on a curve. The other teachers also encountered the same crippling fear from their kids and took the sympathetic route. Somehow every interviewing teacher besides my partner and I knew this. Thus making me the mean, impossible to please teacher.

 

So now my scores are on those poor kids’ records. The MEP staff can see that on Saturday I was probably the worst interviewer the kids could have hoped for. I am sticking around to teach next semester, and I will probably be teaching MEP level 1. I know that I will be seeing 30 of those trembling, adorable little Thai kids every weekday for 5 months. I am confident they will warm to me like the last bunch did. My only concern is that the accepted students will see the results of their interview. I don’t want to be known as the teacher who thought all his students sucked at English.

Avoid this teacher. He’s a real hard-ass.