Last week was our final full week of this term: tomorrow we have the ultimate three days, then recuperate (hopefully) with a four-day weekend before commencing the final term of 2015 on Monday, November 3.
On Wednesday our co-worker Bradly had his baby, a beautiful little girl named Chloe. He has been on his paternity-leave since then and will return this Wednesday; thus we have been splitting his classes between us. My allotted duty is teaching his 8 AM Level 1 Adult class.
They are a cheerful group, an agreeable four students who generally alleviate the stress of an extra class by their congenial natures.
I had the responsibility on Wednesday of giving and grading their Final Tests, which was actually a pleasant task, as I could share in the pride of seeing a majority of high scores.
There is particular satisfaction in observing the progression of Level 1 students, some of whom commence the class with the bare capability of maintaining conversation, and who complete the course with eagerness to talk in casual English.
Hoorah for successfully passing students!
Of course I also gave my own four adult classes their Final Tests on Wednesday, and had the not-so-pleasant witness of some not-so-good scores, and the looming necessity of telling those students they must repeat the course.
Oh, to be the bearer of bad news, such is truly a burden we wish not to bear.
We teachers also had the delightful task of writing comments for all of our Junior students this week: playing the euphemism game where we somehow convey honest feedback with positive language.
I deliberated over phrasing as one attempts to solve a brain-teaser, tapping out and deleting words in even amounts.
Determined to be honest and helpful, I commented constructively and noted positive characteristics of each student.
Some of my Juniors have attitudes that could use adjusting, and cannot seem to speak respectfully no matter how I try to appease them with entertaining or simplistic adjustments to the curriculum.
No matter if I laugh off their sass or award them candy along with their perhaps more deserving classmates, no matter if I aid them with other assignments, spell out words or give hint after hint, there is simply a disconnect between gratitude and attitude.
"I did the best I could," I said to my Korean co-teacher with whom I share my favorite class of fourteen-year olds.
(You can decide yourself if the word "favorite" is used sarcastically.)
Like all Junior classes, this one is thirty minutes, and is usually comprised mostly of me calling on students to be quiet and do some work, at least write a few sentences!
Such wasted time is true agony to my serious teaching spirit which longs to attend to those students who would actually benefit from my assistance, rather than becalm the six boys making the room echo with their raucous cries and slaps.
"I did the best I could," I said to Jason, exiting the room Thursday night as he entered.
"Yeah, you did," he said in return.
Usually after departing the classroom with best wishes and promise to see them again next time, always in positive if not beaming tones, I descend to the staff room and shake my head at Jason.
"They're just so frustrating," I say.
But I always try.
This term I have tried.
And still some of those students refused to work.
Still some of those grammar concepts did not stick.
Still some Juniors say "Does he has brown hair?" instead of my constantly reiterated "Does he HAVE brown hair."
Still some cannot read the words of the dialogue without stumbling.
Still they forgo articles.
And still, some of my adult students failed their Final Test.
Despite my advice and admonitions to ask for help, to practice with the workbook and listen to the recordings, to prepare ahead of time for Term Project and bring me their scripts for editing, despite all my reminders and encouragement, still they did not.
I cannot control them.
My responsibility is not to babysit them or micromanage their lives. My job is not to tell them what to do or scold them when they do not listen (the adults, at least.)
My job is not to shame them when they are incorrect or shake my head when they make the same mistakes over and over again.
My job is never to laugh at their efforts.
My job is to say, "Repeat after me," "Listen and repeat," "Let's try it again," "One by one," "It sounds like this," "Remember, articles are very important in English," "These words are irregular....."
My job is to encourage them every day, through every exercise, and especially on the days when success seems impossible.
My job is to smile at them in the morning when it's dark and chilly and rainy, when we're tired and the lesson is dull.
My job is to welcome them to class when they're tardy and ask them how they are doing.
My job is to refer to the book but mold the lesson to their needs.
My job is not to throw up my hands in defeat and dismiss the class as hopeless.
My job is to roll my shoulders and say, "Okay, let's try something else."
My job is to say, "Well, you all are having trouble focusing today so let's do something more fun..." and find that amusement.
My job is to tell them, "Stand up and stretch!" and gather them in a circle, get them moving and thinking in English away from their desks.
My job is sometimes to look ridiculous so they laugh, and remember.
My job is to do the best that I can, more than I can, as I have to constantly ask for help, and just never give up.
Some of them will repeat the course--but they won't fail.
They will try again. And so will I.
"Well, that's not working. So let's try something else..."
That's my job.
Praise God, He reaches us wherever we are.
Praise God that He is not far from any of us (Acts 17:27).
My job, as a teacher, is not to be far from my students.
My job is to do whatever they need to succeed--even if that means teaching them again.
And as I feel inferior, here for four months and still unable to say how old I am or how I am doing or even understand 98% of the Korean language, while around me are foreigners from around the world who learned Korean from English-Korean classes, having studied English as their second or third language.
As I feel overwhelmed in my social awkwardness, shy and boring, as I feel gawped at like an animal in a zoo, as I feel too worn out to think or hold open my eyes, God reminds me of joy.
This morning at church a sister prayed for the congregation.
Not every day is happy or joyful, she said, but every day is a blessing, and every day there is a reason for joy.
God has saved us and is with us.
The work is hard, the hours are arduous and often there is no one to affirm I'm doing it right.
But I will keep doing the best that I can, because I'm not just working for myself, or for one student, or even all the students.
I am working for God, and praying that through these efforts, He may reach hearts.
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." ~Colossians 3:23
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