New Year, Old Man

Lets see if I can remember how to do this.  Haven’t written in a while so this is going to be streaming consciousness , off the cuff stuff. Last night was New Year’s Eve and it was a shitshow. It started off pretty badly on a personal level, but since that was resolved in ninety minutes of conversation with a coffee, I am not going to go into details here. And the following two hours were also pleasant. They were spent with a couple of old friends, a few new friends , drinking dancing and relaxing.

 

No.

I want to talk about the next couple of hours.

The Daegu Party hours. The time period of 3 to 5 is where the party animals come out to play. I don’t just mean the usual suspects of people who you first think of being at the centre of a good  time. I mean the Inner Party Animal. The Beast that Lurks in your darkest shadow. If they are out at that time, on any night, people have a tendency to just lose their shit. Otherwise respectable people become hard core and , ultimately, ridiculous.

Rejoining my friends at a cellar bar, the location was irrelevant. People were drinking. People were dancing. People were kissing. People were crying. Men were taking off their shirts and jumping around together in loose , messy circles. Men were holding other men back from hitting other men. Men were sat down, staring at other people having a good time. Some men were staring at women, some men were holding women, some men were laughing at women.

Jesus. Was I ever this awful? I am not even talking about the misogyny, although, fuck, I cannot believe that behaviour is still condoned in 2015. I am talking about the lack of fun. It just didn’t seem fun. It seemed intense, focused on proving to peer groups that this was a valid lifestyle choice, that this was the best way to go through a night. It seemed a little desperate. It seemed a little scary.

I left the party. I threw up a little in the street. I am not perfect. But I found a little corner that was not a shop front and upchucked because I had to. I walked the streets of Thursday and Kebab for a few moments. Snapshots of activity. Six people walking abreast, arms linked, forcing people to either side of them as they sang a song and kicked trash along the street. People running after other people, grotesque angry faces and fists raised. A woman walking alone arms folded and shivering, tears streaking her make up. A man making ‘Fight me’ eyes at me as he rolled past. Another man telling me the rumours were not true, he did not want to fight me.

Fight. Fight. Fight. Everything seemed so violent. I have never felt scared walking down Daegu at night. I have run away from people who wanted to hit me and I have sat down away from people who have punched me. However, those were specific things that led to a specific reaction. That was all personal. Last night seemed to have an edge of Impersonal Violence. I felt uncomfortable. I felt in danger.

Listen, I am sure some of this is due to the alcohol. Some of this is due to the cold. Some of this is due to the fact that I am getting older. Some of this is definitely due to the fact I now go out and do not know even a quarter of the people downtown. I understand that. Strangers are treated strangely, are regarded with strange eyes.

I understand all that and I still think something is amiss. In fact, I think we are so far from where we should be, we should ask for direction.

A police presence would not go astray. Responsible Barmen would not be a bad idea. Remembering the Line, ‘Nothing good happens after 2AM’.

Or I can just accept the fact my Inner Party Animal has Officially Retired. It has moved to Party Animal Homes, where it now looks forward to riding the Gym Bike, playing board games and hosting dinner parties. Where the prospect of sharing a wine bottle appeals more than downing a pitcher of beer. Where snuggling one person at 7PM at home sounds infinitely more appealing than hanging with my boys in a club, repping my crew. Jesus, that sounds hackneyed and childish.

Okay, Where are my pipe and slippers?

Life Hacks to Downtown Daegu

Downtown Daegu can be so hard, you know? If only there was some way to make life easier and less, you know, stressful. You know?

1) Get served at Gogos quicker. 

Go inside Gogos. Order at the bar and save 25 minutes on waiting time for death cocktail. 

                  There are so many cars trying to get through right now.

2) Need a poop?

Don't poop in bars. They're awful cesspools.  Go to one of the coffee shops. Do NOT go into galbi restaurant toilets. They have giant spiders and poop stains from yesteryear. 

       You, on a Saturday night , when you look up in a restaurant cubicle in Galbi Alley.

3) Live music venues are for live music listeners. 

Don't go watch your mate in a band if you're going to complain about the shitty audio. Ain't nobody got time for that. Go to your super classy Club Klassy Fokkers, where the audio is surely to their credit.

                      

                           Commune's was not ready for their brand of Speed Metal.

  

4) Learn when curfew is happening. 

Bar serve times will drop off dramatically. Also, the chance of you getting into trouble for referring to the Red Six as a 'Rounders team for silly little girls' drops off significantly.

          

                              Shrugging your shoulders and saying 'Sports, eh?' will not help.

5) Do not pee in the street.

We are in the city, in the 21st Century. Take the obligatory three steps into an alley or up a closed business's stairwell to do your business. 

                     

                           This guy only pees on the finest establishment's stairwells. 

     

6) Do not ask for baggy drinks to be made stronger more than once. 

Respect yourself.

        

           This guy asked for a stronger June Bug. He has been in a coma in this position for a week.

7) Keep that shit to yourself. 

 If you find a lovely, quiet mellow bar, do not tell anyone else about it. When you want to leave the over bass and under thrill of the other bars, you'll be thankful for the hour spent alone at a bar reading your book. 

        

    "Yep, definitely at Thursday's, as well. Get me a shot. I'll meet you by the pong table. For realzys."

8) Choose sexual partners accordingly.

If you are looking for a hook up at 3AM, ask yourself honestly what level of self respect do you have. If the answer is a lot, I honestly don't know what to tell you. Well done, I suppose. For the rest of you troglodytes, you have Who's Bob.

          

                                 Ladies, the Walk Of Shame is named as such for a reason. 

9) Taxis choices.

When getting a cab home, decide at the start if you trust the cab or not. If you do, slump into unconsciousness. If you don't, give him directions. Do not start shouting at him frantically halfway through your journey. Be better than me.

         

                  Also, do not confuse this for a taxi cab. Be better than my Mudfest friends.

10) Budget your drinking effectively. 

Daegu Drivers are three parts soju, three parts OJ, one part cider. Bamboo soju will do nicely. Captain Q is easy, the Chinese glass liquor should be avoided at all costs. Trust me. Trust my fractured liver.

        

                                                    Seriously, can we help this guy?

The Five Worst Habits I Have Encountered in Korea

I have lived in Korea for the better part of a decade and there are many great things about it. If I didn't like it here, I would have left a long time ago. However, you cannot live in a place without picking up some personal issues, some pet peeves about a place. Ask any group of foreigners to talk about living in Korea and at some point they will have a bitch and moan about the place. Don't worry Koreans. We bitch and moan about our home countries as well.

               The Japanese will not shut up about this guy. We get it. He's annoying.

The five Issues I have chosen are annoyances. They are not major societal issues, such as rampant alcoholism, overt sexism, wife beatings, casual racism or even wilful ignorance of the police to deal with crime. Those would be massive problems. I'm sure glad we don't have to deal with any of THAT.

No, these issues are things that are part of the daily grind, things that really should not cause a facial tic or images of rendering individuals limb from limb dance in front of our eyes. But they do. for example....

Gum Smacking

                                                          Ugh, you are the worst. 

When did this even become a thing? Gum chewers always knew their place in society. Better to be seen and not heard, they were what smokers became to try and better themselves. Instead they learned chewing gum can be a status. A status that can be declared in horrible clarity. Popping gum is the sort of thing that belongs in the fifties, along with segregation and uncomfortable bras.  Even then, it belonged to those girls that wanted to be sexy but we're only ever going to be fourteen when you were eighteen. Why am I seeing , and more importantly, hearing fifty year old women chewing gum? 

The Solution The people who chew gum on the bus seat next to you, mindlessly making that gum snapping sound again and again? They deserve to be reminded how annoying it is. So face them and click your tongue. Click it in time to them chewing their gum. When they stop and stare at you, keep clicking your tongue right at them. Tilt your head and stick it out a little. Click your tongue. Become the stuff of their nightmares. 

Eye Avoidance

If I am taking to you, please be invested in the conversation as much as I am. Don't look at your phone and don't point at something in the sky, then when I look where you're pointing, run away. But most of all, don't look away from me. Korean custom has a person looking away, averting their eyes . Cool. Here's the thing. I would like you to adapt to the situation. I am clearly trying to get eye contact with you. It is clearly important to me. So when you go out of your way to continue ocular avoidance to be respectful, you're actually being disrespectful. Also, let's be honest, this eye avoidance is a crutch to bad behaviour. When a kid acts up in class, then looks away, when an ajosshi overcharges and looks away, when an ajumma runs for a seat, barges you out of the way and looks away, that is not out of respect. That is out of shame. And shame does not cut it for me. I want respect. I. Want. Respect.

The Solution shaving mirrors. One in each hand. Wave them in their eyeline forcing them to look at you. But, take advantage of the sitch. When they look away, Dr on your face. Red lipstick, black kohl, just mess your head up. When they stare into the mirror, they'll see a rainbow night daemon. They'll scream and, hopefully, do something go amusing. Like jump out of the bus window. Bring makeup remover and clean up daintily, staring at the rest of the bus passengers, smiling. Maintain eye contact. 

Littering

        

                                 The man is a super hero and he's struggling. Think of the fish!

I have a friend who is Texan and a liberal. The genetic coding of a man who loves big sky, has weapons knowledge and hates anti environmentalist litterers is a sight to behold in Daegu. He has followed kids who dropped cans and candy wrappers down a street and gave it back to them. It's beautiful, man. Littering is unforgivable, even with the proviso there are no dustbins trash cans anywhere. For a society that realises it has almost no natural resources, it is criminal to take your land and cover it in non-biodegradeable seagull chokers. When I see kids dropping all the wrapping off a triangle gimbal, I want to pick the kid up and throw them into oncoming traffic. That's wrong, of course. Probably. 

The Solution wear an official long outfit, complete with hat and badge. Follow litterers and demand on the spot fines of 20,000 won. When they can't pay ( I'm thinking children here) give them a ticket saying they must attend a court in the next 90 days to explain exactly why they were right to litter. Make sure the ticket has wet ink, so that when they touch it, it gets on their hands and cannot be washed off. Stand there as they realise the situation, then give them a long, slow, thoughtful nod. They'll get it. 

Arm Crossing 

                         

                              Literally the only time I'm happy to see this happen.

To be clear, but this is not folding the arms. This is making an 'X' with your arms as a silent , final way of saying 'No'. You lazy bastards. You can say No. You can be nice about it. I'm not a bloody vampire. I'm a human being. I have demonstrated I speak at least a modicum of Korean. We can have discourse of a sort. You just immediately saying No to a situation, before it has even played out for a second? That's rude, rude in a way that makes French people tap their Gauloises into an ashtray in a thoughtful manner.

The Solution Grab those hands and spin the offending person around, thus forming the first step to a sexy bachata. Break down their lack of communication through the medium of dance. Hold them close, look over your shoulder provocatively, let them know you want them to reconsider selling you that vintage shirt, even though it is clearly too small for your ludicrously portly frame. Spin them with the fiery passion of a person who understands it is a family restaurant but you just want to eat some samgyetang by yourself. 

Infantile Nationalism

    

                                                       Yes, I do. Do you like potatoes?

When I tell my students they can ask me any question, they go for the same things. What is your favourite colour? What is your favourite food? Where do you come from? That's correct, I'm happy with that. My kids have basic vocabularies and are only a few moments removed from mewling shit factories that never sleep. However, adults need to grow their question base. They ask questions like, Do you like Korean food? Do you like Kimchi? Isn't it super hot? The answers to these questions are yes, sometimes, and no. When these questions still come up, I start to feel like there is a Census is going around. Every Korean stranger I have spoken to, the first three things they REALLY want to know are these things. Sure, they'll ask about your age and nationality but they really want to make sure you dig their food. They want you to love it. They want you to be blown away by how awesome Korea is , and their food is the easiest manifestation of that national id. I'm trying to think of one Israeli, one American, one Frenchman, one German, one Englishman, who has been so concerned a stranger to their shores enjoyed their stay.  Koreans are as arrogant as other nationalities; I just feel other nations are more laissez afire with their nationalism. Americans will scream Murrica! At the drop of a hat, but that is mostly tongue in cheek. Americans know their nationalism is silly and infantile , and that knowledge gives them perspective. Can you imagine a Texan asking an Englishman if he likes hamburgers? No, because the Texan would not give a fuck. 

The Solution when asked these questions, cross your arms, look away, chew some gum, and throw the wrapper in the floor. They'll soon get the message and leave you alone.

I Have Enough Friends

I just sat down to eat at Burnham's Burgers for my lunch today.  I was alone but quite happy to watch YouTube as I ate my egg mushroom burger.  As I am munching on my food,  I see someone I know who is alone as well.  We have known each other a long time.  We exchanged pleasantries and he sat down away from me with his back turned.  When I finished I said goodbye and he said goodbye and that was  it.
I reflected as I walked away,  shuffling with fake confidence on my still improving right knee.  What was I to that person? What was that person to myself?  Friends? Friends would sit down and eat together. We would enquire into each other's lives.  We would talk about minutiae, or deep thoughts. I felt no such compulsion to be at the same table in the same way he felt no desire to share with me his innermost secrets.

But we are not enemies.  At least,  I don't think we are.  I know he is part of a group of people who regard me with emotions ranging from disdain to indifference.  Bit he has always been cordial and polite.  I have never heard of him saying a bad word to anyone,  much less about me.  He doesn't roll like that.

So what exactly are we to each  other?  Colleagues?  The TESOL Community is now far too large to be friends just because you're both foreigners in a strange land trying to do an unappreciated job. Acquaintances? We have both been part of sports leagues and dramatic events.  And yet, we never hung out.

We are Facebook friends,  that number you can either  choose to let define you or not.  People you have known your whole life,  or people you met at a bar last night are giving the same station.  Yes,  you can partition your friend groups in Facebook.  No,  I don't do that.  Who has the time and the inclination to breakdown their association?

And yet.  What am I to that guy? Probably nothing important. If I was,  I reason,  he would try to get to know me better.  The fact he hasn't tells me he has no pressing desire or need.  He has enough friends.  Good for him.

If you asked a younger version if me if you could have a finite number of friends,  he would have scrunched up his face and snuffed the suddenly confusing air. Too many friends,  are you kidding me? Nowadays,  I can say I have enough friends.

I am confident with my picks.  I have multiple circles that are interwoven and autonomous.  I have different interests represented.  I have respect and love and joy and connection.  I can lose touch without fear of losing friendship.  I have colleagyes and Acquaintances as well.  But really,  I don't worry about being just another Facebook friend in the crowd.

I have enough friends.

The ELT's Guide to The Godfather.

If I have learned one thing in my time in Korea, when Anne wants something it is usually a good idea to do it. I am joking. But not really. She has been my mentor since I was a week old TEFL n00b and I am lucky enough to consider her to be my best friend. SO, if she wants The Godfather's guide to ELT, you had better believe that is happening.


Cue the violins, and Puzo fonting....

Michael Corleone: Fredo, you're my older brother, and I love you. But don't ever take sides with anyone against the Family again. Ever.

My classroom is my home and my students are my family. Rule two in my classroom is no fighting. If they hit each other, or call each other names or act in a way that I find akin to bullying, I stop them and explain that we are a team. We live or die as a team. Seriously, like Ben Stiller says, There is no time for no Lauryn Hills.

If your student are your family, don't kiss them.

Peter Clemenza: Leave the gun. Take the cannoli. 

This adlibbed, off the cuff remark occurs after Clemenza's man has killed someone. The gun is no longer needed. The food is still a necessary part of Clemenza's day. Pick and choose your ELT weapons in a similar fashion. Do not get tied to one set of lesson plans. It gets boring for both you and your students. By choosing only the correct ELT tools for each individual lesson, with its individual issues, you can make the individuals learning perform better.

Don't shoot kids. THAT should be on EPIK orientation.

Michael Corleone: [to Sonny] It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business. 
Some kids are little shits and that is just how they do. It's not about you and it's not about your lesson. They act that way to everyone they meet. Some kids are dumb. It's not about you or your lessons. Let's be clear, you should ABSOLUTELY do everything in your power to make these kids perform better. However, when that bell rings, you have to remove them from your mind. They removed you from their life equation;you have to do the same.

"Ohhhhh, I had a rough kickin it in class, kids out here are kicking my ass, But I clear my head when I'm playing banjo, yes my name is Marlon Brando-oh."

Sonny: We don't discuss business at the table. 
There is a time and a place for everything.Planning a lesson when you are in the classroom with your kids and during the time you should be teaching is disrespectful. It is disrespectful tot the kids who are there to learn, to the person paying your wages, to the ELT community who are only ever associated with the lowest common denominator of teacher. It is also disrespectful to yourself. Take the time to plan properly and do it at an appropriate time and place.

For example, this is the wrong time and place to start the screenplay for The Godfather.

Tessio: Can you get me off the hook, Tom? For old times' sake?
Tom Hagen: [shakes his head] Can't do it, Sally. 

If you have rules in your classroom, enforce them. If your favourite kid breaks those rules, enforce your rules. No one gets a bye. I don't care if a retest has them  start to cry. I mean, I care, I'm not a monster. However, I care more about the justice that is perceived by everyone else in the classroom. You slack off on how you enforce rules, pretty soon the whole classroom will feel justified (correctly) to slack off as well.

Though you should make sure your rule enforcement tactics are age appropriate. This is good for Middle schoolers, maybe?

Emilio Barzini: [during a meeting with the Five Families] Times have changed. It's not like the Old Days, when we can do anything we want.  

The Old Days. Long Time Ex Pats gathered around a bar table will reminisce about how great the Old Days were. Don't blame us, we're old with bad back and creaky knees. Time was, being an ELT teacher was rare. Being a foreigner in a Korean city was rare. Job retention was high and job security was good. Everyone loved a hagwan teacher. Now, academies close all the time, the job market is shrinking even as the teacher influx has swelled. You are no longer a hot commodity. Owners and managers look at your work ethic, your work output and your skill set and compare it to literally thousands of others.

"Even you, Al Pacino can be replaced," lied De Palma as Brando wondered where he left his keys.

Michael: My father is no different than any powerful man, any man with power, like a president or senator.
Kay Adams: Do you know how naive you sound, Michael? Presidents and senators don't have men killed.
Michael: Oh. Who's being naive, Kay?

There is a high likelihood your boss is an arsehole. He does not care about your well being, whether it is making you work if you have a sore throat and runny nose, or if it a refusal to turn on the air con despite your sweat is clearly making a mini ocean around your desk. Suck it up. If you are doing this job in this country, chances are no matter where you go, you will have the same trials and tribulations. This comes with a warning. Some managers are not arseholes. They are nefarious criminals who should be challenged in a court of law. Know your rights and compare with other teachers, both in your hagwan and in your community.  Most criminal bosses work on the fact you don't know any better and the fear of isolation in a foreign country. Stand up to them. It is not as if they are the mafia.

Kiss my ring, you son of a bitch.

A Very Public Apology For being Myself

So, look, here's the thing. You know me. You know a version of me. Everyone has a version of me in their group of social interaction, be it in  the workplace or in the classroom or in your actual free time. I am that guy people say is the 'the life of the party' while raising their eyebrows. Possibly in a manner suggesting said title is really the whole joke.

I never thought it was a joke, being a popular , enjoyed person. I took it in a deadly serious manner. I hate anyone not liking me. For mem that is a throwback to preteen and teen me, a shy, uncomfortable character that slunk in the shadows. I would throttle that version of me if I could, stomp on his head until I heard his teeth chip and break. I would set him on fire. I push myself on so many ocassions to talk to strangers, to listen to others talk about things that are not interesting or listen to genuinely unpleasant or worse, boring people. I needed their approval so much I gave mine up completely. Love me, my persona screams, if only because of how good a job I am presenting of loving you.

And that situation developed. People threw out terms like 'King' or Mayor' of Daegu. Honorifics which are truly horrific. And I lapped it up. I pretended to not notice the half smirks guileful people would throw at each other. I valued the love too much. I would wave a strangers when they waved at me, forgetting that we had already met previously and in their minds at least, I was  an acquaintance, a friend. I played a  part to perfection.

So now I find myself seeing my actions. And I loathe myself. I am stuck with empty vessels as acquaintance, unable to distinguish the people who are truly my friends and who is just playing along wiht the game started in my head and now played by everyone so much better. My confidence is paper thin, my skin less so. My ego is stretched wide like a balloon and needs only one acute observation to pop me into nothing. My every action is now scrutinised by my id , my super ego, my fake ego and by a committee of sub egos who all have a turn clamouring for attention.

And now I have so many ways t express myself to my new found lifelong friends. Hello, Facebook. Hello, Blogger. Sometimes they say hello back. I now have spent so much time on my friends. I have invested in them.; Surely it is time for them to invest in me. Surely they will all want to know about my day. Careful though, I better make it funny. People like my posts. I cream myself at the pleasure of seeing likes on a post increase over time. Of being witty and it being recognised. Not for the elctronic media the world of half smirks and rolling eyes. Here, it can be taken anyway I desire. Here, I am an urbane G-d.

And then I hurt myself. And it was a while ago. And I am down about it. I don't really feel like making a joke anymore. I feel lke being honest about my feelings. I feel like saying I feel awful, that my knee is punding acid into my foot. That I cannot stand up and i am afraid I will never do it properly again. That I may not run or jump or climb a tree again. These fears cloud my mind and blur my vision with tears of irreparable damage in potentia.

And I write these things not because I want the likes anymore but because I want to be heard. Because I want to be respected. because I want to be liked. Suddenly it is not the substance of the matetr but the matter which created the substance that needs appreciation. Because honestly right now, I feel no appreciation.

And no one cares. Not really. Not in the all consuming way I want them to care. Becasue that's insane. No one can care for you like a lovesick perfectly obedient, individual, clever, carefree, wise, sagacious, witty, fun way golem. They can send you commiserations but they re long distanced, weak by the time of arrival at your soul. They can visit you but you know they will go away again. You know it and they know it. It is part of the tacit arrangement.

All my friends have failed my ideal. And that is because my ideal is fractured, through decades of feverish study as to what is necessary to be popular, to being wanted. To having that transform into a ghoulish need to impress but never realizing the other half of the equation. To be impressive. And so, the reality comes to pass that I reach out to my friends in a way they find cloying, irritating, or worse, boring.

My apology is this. I am sorry for failing my friends in the hour of my greatest need. I shall, from here on in, not tell you a single thing about my day being terrible until it is something you ask for. I will not talk about things that upset me in my life. I shall not venture opinion on source material until it is asked for. I shall not ask for help in any way physical, mental, spiritual or emotional because it is clear you would not ask the same of me, even though I would have given it gladly. By repressing myself, maybe I can stop the microIDs, control my personality and make it a human being once more. Maybe I can find out what I want to listen to, to care about, to appreciated. And then I can gain the respect I deserve.



See, old me would have thrown a question at the end right here saying something like, Does any of this make any sense? I think new me would ask the same question.



Does any of this make sense?

Pacific Rim's Guide To ELT

Continuing the theme of using movies to help improve English Language, I give you ...Pacific Rim.

Asia is the place for ridiculously big monsters and giant robots. FACT. That a movie about such things could lend itself to English learning is of course, utterly sensible. The Kaiju/Jaeger dynamic is is almost identical to the student/teacher dynamic. Confrontation of ever learning, ever growing alien beings, who never stop coming at you? I call that Kindergarten.  Use of Plasma cannons and Giant swords? Teaching tols if ever I heard of them? Grabbing a battleship and using it as an impromptu baseball bat? Flexible use of the teaching environment.

Read on and learn why your teaching will cancel the apocalypse....

Raleigh Becket: Wait. I think this guy's dead. But let's check for a pulse.
Mako Mori: Okay.
[They turn the Jaeger around and fire the Jaeger's plasma cannon into the kaiju four more times,exploding its chest]
Raleigh Becket: No pulse. 

Sometimes, in a lesson, we are in a rush and just push on with the lesson plan. Let's always remember to make sure there is comprehension. Do the kids understand the principles you just explained? Do they actually get the new vocabulary? Don't just ask, "Do you understand?" Elicit responses that show they know how to use the new information. Otherwise, you're not teaching them, you're shooting them with a plasma cannon. Don't do that!

This is a Bad Teacher moment. a Bad Ass Teacher moment, amirite? Seriously, don't hit kids.

Raleigh Becket:  To fight monsters, we created monsters of our own.

Some kids are nasty animals who need to be put down, garrotted and strung  up as a warning to others. Nope, that was a trick I pulled on you just then!Don't feel sheepish, I'm sneaky like that. But, in a classroom, sometimes a persona develops as the teacher tries to instil a level of management. This character can sometimes not be so pleasant. Remember, any character can change from bad to good and vice versa. If you don't like the monster you created for yourself, let it go and start afresh. You may be surprised at how the students respond and soon there may be no monsters at all.

"So, uh, no monsters, eh? Fancy a coffee?"
"...."

Stacker Pentecost: One: don't you ever touch me again. Two: don't you ever touch me again. 

We come from a society where students touching and teacher touching is taboo. In Korea, kids will want to touch you, especially if you have awesome facial hair. Before you flare up at your kids about the no go zone, here's a little note from my youth worker days. Are you yelling at your kids because they are doing something bad, or because they are doing something annoying? Kid want to touch beards. Let it happen, don't let it happen, but don't make your kids feel bad for being curious for once in their life.

Is it wrong I want them both to have the same beard?

Stacker Pentecost: I do not need your sympathy or your admiration. All I need is your compliance and your fighting skills. And if I can't get that, then you can go back to the wall that I found you crawling on. Do I make myself clear? 

You're a teacher. So, do your job. Your job is flexible, far more than anything else you have probably done.  It's something that teachers often try to translate to their students. If I am teaching, then you better study. I don't want any of your crap.The only problem with hthis is, their crap is part of your responsibility. Wnting to put slow learning children down a level is all wel and good, but until that moment, you probably should take the time to try and teach them something. Some kids don't need to go back to their crawling wall.

Populated Exclusively by Kids who don't put their hands up.

Hannibal Chau: Are you funnin' me, son? 

Yes, yes I am. Pacific Rim is a movie about a war to survive. There is absolutely no parallel between that situation and the classroom. If you think something is a battle zone, you bend your body and soul into it and grit your teeth. If you act like you're in a war, soon the kids will as well. Shift your perspective. Adjust your expectation level. Think of other teaching styles which may be more positive and may lead to a more positive result.

They may even take you out of this world. Where you can then slice it with a sword that up until that point you had not used at all. Even though it could have saved your brother and countless other people. But no, you're right, using it now when you are a gazillion miles from the ground, that's the move. 

 

 

Seriously. This movie is Awesome Sauce Stupid.

Grosse Pointe Blank's Guide To ELT

Well, based on the positive response I received for my last ELT Blog, I felt I had to do another one! Byt he way, there is a glorious feeling having your views on teaching validated by a larger community of trained teachers. Thank you to everyone who complimented the last blog. It can currently be seen on my best friend Anne's blog . Check it out, not only for my piece but also for her great ELT works and thoughts.

So this week's blog is going to be based on one of my favorite films growing up. I feel it is quite relevant to the expat community, dealing as it does with going home after long absences. Sometimes it can feel like everyone else has been in a glass bubble and you totally, while of course, to your family and friends you're the same person you were when you first left. Frustrating, isn't it?

Anyways, I am talking about the great hitman comedy, Grosse Pointe Blank. This movie stars the Cusack Siblings, Dan Ackroyd, Minnie Driver and a bunch of indie specialists. John Cusack plays a hitman who is suffering malaise from his current life. His secretary suggests his return to his school in time for a ten year high school reunion. I heartily recommend this movie to anyone who likes, quick wit, sharp dialogue,  well set action scenes and Dan Ackroyd.
 
Martin Q. Blank: Do you *really* believe that there's some stored up conflict that exists between us? There *is* no us. *We* don't exist. So who do you wanna hit, man? It's not me. Now whaddya wanna do here, man?

This scene takes place between Martin and his highschool nemesis/jock bully. However, it could just as easily be between you and your students. All lesson long they've been the worst. Chewing gum, looking at you with "Juguleh" eyes, talking to their friend, playing on their phone, being a complete assclown. You berate them, you tried to work with them you used all your tricks. Nothing worked and have to admit the truth. This kid 'beat' you. 

Well, that's not true. Because the kid doesn't even think of it as a competition. As soon as the bell rings he does not think about you for the rest of the day. And when he comes to sit back down in your class, he won't remember your epic struggle at all. So, knowing that, are you really going to stress about how he is out to ruin your lesson? Are you going to build up a family feud that will last a lifetime? Grow up. You're an adult. He's a kid. Do your job to the best of your abilities and check your negative emotion at the door. Be a professional.


Debi: How come you never learned that it was wrong? That there are certain things you do not do, you do not do in a civilized society?

Marty: Which civilizations are we talking about?

Debi: Oh, shut up!

Marty: I mean, history...

Debi: Shut up!

Man, some kids never learn the right way to do things, do they? Like putting up their hands, or not  whispering the answer to their friend loudly so everyone knows they are the smartest person in the room. Like, not wanting to hug your leg when you walk through their kindy classroom? Like, not sleeping at the start of a lesson? Well, a lttle empathy here wouldn't hurt. Kindy kids like hugging people. Teenagers like to sleep. Smartarses like to shout out the answer. You cannot control everything in your classroom and trying to do so will make you super unfriendly in the kids' eyes, which makes your life harder, and it will make you more stressed which will make your kids' lives harder. Take a breath, be easy, be cool, be a fucking professional.

Martin Q. Blank: It's a poem? See, that's the problem... express yourself, Bob! Go for it.

Bob: "When I feel... quiet... when... I feel... blue..."

Martin Q. Blank: You know, I think that is *terrific*, what you have right there. Really, I liked it, a lot. I wouldn't sell the dealership or anything but, I'm tellin' ya... it's intense!

Bob: There's... more.

Martin Q. Blank: Okay, would ya mind, just skip to the end.

Whoops! Martin displaying a fail here. Teachers, your kid is opening up to you about someting they do in their private time. How about you don't belittle or ignore it. Some kids really want a mentor, an adult they can be themselves with. If they decide it is going to be you and you are seriously not honoured by that, I seriously question your motives for being a teacher. You're there to do your job, to be a role model. Do your job. Be a professional.


Debi: You're a fucking *psycho*.

Marty: Don't rush to judgment on something like that until all the facts are in.


Covered this thought process before in the earlier post but it is sooooo valid. We love to compartmentalize our students into good, bad, ugly, questionable meat etc, but let's just remember everyone has the capapcity to have a complex character, or at least a character with the ability to change their mood and personality. Psychos can be heroes on any given Monday. Princesses can be Alien Queens. Also,sidenote, if you are teaching eleven to thirteen years olds, the puberty is a nightmare for a teacher. You will ask yourself why is my student suddenly so truculent? She used to be such a darling! Hormones are a bitch. Just keep doing your job. Be a professional.

Bob: You wanna do some blow?

Martin Q. Blank: No I don't.

Don't do drugs. You're in a country that apparently loves to send foreigners to jail for doing drugs. Don't do drugs. Also, on a more important note, students love their downtime between classes. It can be tempting to join in and play with them  before you do, ask yourself if they should be playing this game on the school premises and whether you joining in is a wise career decision. Yes, middle schoolers play card games. I think the head teacher may have a problem if he sees you teaching those middle scholers how to three bet the turn in Texas Hold Em. Be a professional.

No Light At The End Of This Tunnel

So it has been a pretty tough month. Literally almost every aspect of my life has taken a hit. Financially, emotionally, physically, socially. I feel stretched thin and I can hear the tearing inside. And the worst thing is, knowing it is not going to be recovered any time soon.

My ACL is torn. I have been dreading getting surgery and when I saw the doctor he said I might be able to avoid it. Now I am moving about with a might impressive brace. Yes, I get a seat on all the subways and buses. It really does not make up for moving everywhere slowly, off balance and in pain. A constant, dull, pain. It impacts everything else I do, from waking up in the morning for a piss, to deciding to cook some food.

Speaking of cooking, I provide a delivery service for other teachers in the area. Walking around with an ajumma cart full of food in one hand and a walking stick in the other., I feel the deliveries are definitely negatively impacting my knee injury. However, I need some form of relaxation. Making food, even chopping onions is so much fun. But having to stand up with a busted knee, move around even in a cramped Korean kitchen, is not pleasurable.

So I don't deliver right now. This means I lose a massive amount of my customer base. I am reduced to going to places where I know people will be in large groups. That's okay, since it fits my business model of avoiding transport costs. However, now I am carrying around more food,which of course is no good for my frickin knee. Having so much less money of course adds to my money worries. I worked out that if I have the surgery I will be paying back over 5 Million won whilst paying rent and utilities. That's such a huge number I almost want to vomit.

Really the worst part of this is how everyone reacts to the situation. I don't want pity. I want respect. I am currently with someone who loves me. My friends like me. I just don't feel respected. A good friend made the joke of me being a 'lovable fuck up' and it really hurt. I guess I am overly sensitive right now. Usually I have a thick skin. I can laugh and joke with the best of them. Right now with everything else happeninmg, I think would rather get run over by a bus and go into a six month coma.

Okay. Time for some positive reinforcement.

I got a job. I got a boss who is good to me. I got great kids in my classroom and a superb TA. I have running water and a warm house. I have clean clothes and a wide selection of cooking books. I have good friends. They want only good things for me. Those that do not respect me...well, fuck. I don't need everyone's respect. I have a woman who considers me her rock and I feel the same for her. We grouse and grumble but we get over it.

I will get over this. This is just transient.<----is that right? It's temporary.

No light at the end of the tunnel. However, I have the knowledge I am in the tunnel and that there will be light at some point. Push, push push.

Thoughts?

Taking a moment after camp

Well, this is a private relection post more than a comedy posting. Yes, I know I put it on my Facebook wall, my twitter feed and even shared it on Google Plus. How will people know I am having a self reflective moment if I don't tell them about it. Pay attention, I'm doing stuff.

Finished camp. That thing is a bugger.  Not the camp itself, since the classes I had were delightful except for that One Kid and the lessons were simple. Plus, I had no presentation to worry about. Getting up early is not pleasant. Getting up early with someone who also does not like getting up is not pleasant.  However, we treated the process like a pair of WW2 POW English wallahs and accepted we were both in it and there is nothing we can do about it so we should just get along with each other.

Of course, now that camp is finished, we are still not having a pleasant sleeping process due to cat sitting. The cats are young and curious and not afraid to try stupid things. It is also possible to say we have not kitten proofed the flat. Well, they are very cool felines and when they are relaxing on your bed and watching Harvey Birdman licking their balls and then each other's faces , life could certainly be worse.

Finally, my knee. It hurts. I will get  an MRI on that very soon and will post a humorous blog about it thereafter. I will probably need surgery  so am hoping y school will not fire me, evict me and try to kick me out of the country. No wait, I don't work for those bitches anymore. 

What do you want vs What do you Need :Why New Year's Resolutions need a change.

Every year, New Year's Resolutions fail miserably to change a damn thing. People react to their failure with anger, or sadness, or feigned nonchalance.Gym memberships go wanting after the first six weeks. You never learn more than a few chords on the guitar. You continur to leave for wor work in a rush and don't eat a balanced diet.

Here's why, in my opinion.

You don't want any of that crap at all.

You may need it. You may die if you don't do that thing. Quitting smoking is a big deal but you're probably going to smoke again. I am only going  by stats. And then you;re going to die. Again, not me, just stats. You may need a better diet, or a steady level of exercise ( or, any exercise) but you'll stop.

No one likes needing to do something. It's an ultimatum, a deal breaker. Humans hate those. When pushed into a metaphysical corner ( one of the worst kinds of corners IMO) we tend to lash out at everything until we are resigned to our fate. Broken. No one wants to be broken.

Want. That's the thing. We are a rare species that has developed a love for our poisons. Very few animals go out of their way to over indulge in things that will kill them. Some, but they are noticeable in their irregularity. Humans want everything. Bigger, faster, compacted, focused. Better.

So maybe we should change the idea from needing to do something to wanting to do something. Make it specific. I have a friend who is in awe of the US arine Corps. SHe realises she is too old and too creaky to do their whole course. She just wants to achieve ten per cent. Women need to do 30 pull ups to enter the marines. There's some other stuff presumably, but this is a thing that washes out fifty per cent of marine applicants. She is aiming to do just three. Good luck to her. I can't do one. Can you? Good for you. I can't.

Make it something specific, and the desire to achieve becomes achievable. Have a more balanced diet? How about not eating McDonalds? Want to get healthier? Take the public transpoirt and not a cab, walk the difference. Want to stop smoking? DON'T BUY CIGARETTES! <-----Seriously, this helps.

Yes, I know these are all tiny things that really won't make a see change. I don't think you need to do that. Right now, you want to make a difference in your lifestyle that will improve your ego. When that is done, then you can improve on that change. Realistically. Systemically. Believably.

You are19 days into your resolution. How is it going and what is the next step?

A Bad Day Spiral.

Some days really suck. You are in the middle of your pay schedule so you do not have a lot of funds and you have far, far too long to the next pay cheque. You know you should not be living pay cheque to pay cheque and you castigate yourself over that because you are not the offspring of your responsible parents.  You are halfway through the teaching schedule for Winter Camp and the combination of sleep deprivation, mismanaged course schedules and kids high on life has you going slightly crazy.  And you have other shit going on. Deep, mysterious shit no one else could possibly understand nor process more successfully than you.

Life is super tough.

You go through the day picking at all the things going wrong for you. The bus did not wait for you. You were too heavy for the building lift and were unceremoniously kicked out by a grumpy ajumma. Your co worker is all sweetness and light then tells you she wants you to make a test for the class in the enxt ten minutes. Your phone falls into a cup of coffee. A kid kicks you in the shins. The subway charges your passcard twice for the same journey. Your friends and family seem to have got their entire act together and you don't even know your lines half the time. People getting engaged, married, having kids, buying houses, being *successful*. And you are not.

Well now hang on a minute.

You have a job. You have a house. You are eminently employable. You have friends. You have family. You have food in the fridge. You have clothes. You have heating and light. You're not doing too bad.

This day is like any other. Yes, some bad stuff happened. You missed that bus but another one will come along soon. Your co worker may have trouble explaining when you have to do things. Your levels of preparedness are increasing even as we speak and you certainly should not get stressed over their mistake. Yes, Winter Camp is hard for some people. Yes, Mid month is  shitty time, especially after Xmas and New Year's.  But you are going to make it. You always do.

I have a busted knee and thought I was going to have no way of paying for it. My school has since set me up with insurance and I have a charitable benfactor to help me out. My school has been super lovely to me and it is going to all work out. Something happens. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes, that thing has to be from you, and that is the hardest thing. Digging deep, finding the energy to fix your situation. Finding the ability to ask for help when you normally would not. FInding the skill to act indepeneedntly when you normally wouldn't.

However, your problem is solved, you know it will not be the end of your world. It will, in time, be a footnote. So do not let it get you down. This, like eveyrthing else, will pass.

But seriously, some days really do suck.

That One Kid

I have a class. They are mostly a bunch of good guys. Some of them are extroverts.  Some of them are shy and quiet.  Some are talented.  Some are lumps of meat. I have a class and it is like any other, taught by any other teacher in any other school.  

And I have this one kid.  Let's call him Dick.  Dick refuses to recognize the classroom dynamic. Dick has no teacher and no classmates, no TA and no principal. He has a desk and a chair. He has a book and whatever is in his bookbag. I have learned to assume it is almost never his pencil. 

Dick is all at once imprisoned and utterly free. He hates being in his chair and hates being in his classroom. He shows this by wriggling out of his chair and hiding under the table. He hates following lesson. He is at pains to being diametrically opposed to the lesson plan.  When the class chants he silently hits the desk with his book.  When the class is listening to a student perform their work, he sings maniacal nonsense songs, using his book as a megaphone. When I ask him to be quiet he is louder.  When I try to elicit a response from him he is silent as a rock. 

So, yeah, this one student I have, Dick? He is disruptive.  He hits other students and talks to others. He takes up a lot of my time and the TA's time,  time that should be spread equally amongst the class as a whole.  He stops other students hearing instruction and he slows the rhythm of the class.  

I have this kid.  He's responsible for making me think of newer and more exciting programs.  He pushes me to create more immersive, more approachable lessons.  He keeps me on my guard constantly, my time keeping and peripheral vision skills pushed to their utmost. I am exhausted after lessons with him.  And I know I have to do it all again tomorrow with him. 

I have this one kid called Dick.  When I get that kid into my lesson, even if it is for one minute , one sentence, one moment .... and I mean in that lesson, utterly engaged, yep, it's worth it. I feel strong and alive, successful and validated.  This kid did that to me. 

I have this one kid.  Lets call him Dick.  He's awesome.