In my last post, I shared about my first experience, teaching teenagers here in Hong Kong. I am coming to the conclusion that I may have spoken too soon about the joys of teaching. Last time, I talked about how comfortable I felt at the front of the classroom and how I could relate to the students.Well, this week it just ain't so! My confidence has been tested! I started my new job teaching English to young children at a private language school. I was told I would be dealing with kids around the age of eight but when I arrived at the school I was handed a book with a big green frog on it and thrown into a room of four to six-year-olds. Oh my!
Quite suddenly I realized I was dealing with an alien species and I don't think I have had the appropriate vaccinations for this particular journey. When dealing with kids this young, my instinct normally is to run, just run, really fast. Obviously, this wasn't an option here. On my first day I was shouted at, ignored, run away from and (the piece de resistance was) pelted in the head with a plastic monkey. At the end of that first day of work, I ended up with a broken sandal, a brutal headache and reaffirmation in my pre-existing fear of young children.
I look at these small human beings and truly I must acknowledge that they are aesthetically pleasing. Yes, they are "cute", at least on the surface. But who other than their parents is built to deal with their outrageous behaviour? Now, I am generalizing here because many of the kids I am teaching are quite adorable, but the ones that are not are really NOT. These of course are the children that stand out in my memory. When did it become acceptable to scream at a teacher? In my world, never!
Spending this first day teaching primary students made me think of my amazing Grandma who spent her career in the classroom teaching little children. Yes, she spent three decades teaching kids of this age and now (more than ever) I wonder how she did it.How did Grandma survive all those years un-medicated? I tried to think of her and how she deals with every situation with a smile. So, using my Grandma as my model, I smilingly said "Little Jimmy please pass me back the plastic monkey now." And within moments, the monkey went flying past my head, missing my ear by a fraction of a hair. I continued smiling, whilst firmly (but gently) reprimanding the child for throwing objects indoors.
I refused to shout or be harsh with these children. This is not the way I was raised and I decided that no matter how badly some of them behaved, I would not lose my temper.
I kept visualizing my Grandma's face and thinking, "I can do this. Yes I can!" After four long classes and by the time I reached the end of my eight-hour day, I was a broken woman.I had no strength left in me.
I phoned my Grandma in Port Moody to ask for some pearls of wisdom for next Saturday's class. Her greatest advice was "stay calm and carry on" and when all else fails don't forget the magic of stickers. Kids love them!
Naomi Yorke is a Port Coquitlam student who lived in Shanghai, China, and most recently Chicago, writing about her experiences twice a month for The Tri-City News. She's now living and teaching in Hong Kong.
