Daily Accomplishment

Three or four of the students in one of my third grade classes are apparently "mute," according to their classmates. Whenever I call on one of these little mimes, their classmates always shout "Teacher Vicky, So-and-so doesn't talk, even in Chinese!" Statistically, I find it unlikely that one third grade class at a small school has more than one child who physically cannot speak. The more probable explanation is that Taiwanese children are, on the whole, painfully shy and fearful of making mistakes; thus, they avoid speaking if at all possible, especially in English.

Today, however, one of my little mutes decided to say "I like cake!" during class today, making my heart take a little leap. This was, of course, tempered by the fact that another child cried for the entire class period after being asked to say the same thing.

You Can't Take It With You

I thought of two ways to write about these photographs:

1.  The scooter is (as far as I can tell) the most popular mode of transportation in Kaohsiung, and it's amazing how much stuff they manage to fit onto one little vehicle.  It's not uncommon to see a family of four riding together--older child standing behind the steering column, dad in front, mom in back holding baby.  My roommate claims she once saw five dogs on one scooter--a small one in the front basket, a large one hanging over the streering column, one sitting on the (human) driver's lap, two in cages strapped to the back.  Since these spectacles tend to zoom by before I can dig my camera out of my purse, this elementary school student and his science project will have to do.  Plus, he's way cuter and seemingly less dangerous than some of the more outrageous scooter balancing acts seen around these parts.  

*Note: I hear that scooter-packing in India and Vietnam makes Taiwan look, well, safe.

2.  Taiwanese education experts constantly bemoan the state of "Creativity"
 on the island.   At least one of the schools that host Fulbright English Teaching Assistants has a "Creativity Center" (oh, the irony of building a center for creativity is not lost on me) where either a bunch of teachers plan events to encourage kids to be creative or kids go to be creative, though it's unclear which of these options is actually the purpose of the center.  One of my co-workers is apparently working towards a masters degree in "Creativity Studies," but his failure to explain what that actually means makes me suspect that Creativity is some sort of meaningless buzzword in the Taiwanese education field, sort of like "green" or "all-natural" in the United States.

Regardless of what Creativity actually means to a person living in Taiwan, perhaps educators who see this photo might breathe a sigh of relief knowing that their children are not actually robots.  Judging from our young hero's mother's expression pictured below (and her yelling, "This is much too big!  How can we possibly take it home!"), I assume that his project was unique among his classmates, at least in terms of size.  So worry not, Taiwanese Education Officials, your kids are not doomed to crunch numbers for the rest of human history!

3. In the spirit of creativity, I'd like to host a little contest--how would you write about these photos?  Leave all your ideas in the comment box.  I'll check them out at the end of the week.  Best entry gets a special postcard from Taiwan (and they're good ones, believe me!)  If you're timid about submitting, just think that if you're the only one who submits, you automatically win!  

So we do make a difference

This definitely counts as a good day in teaching.

"Oh, to be 75 again..."

If this ain't precious....

...then I don't know what is.

Today Taiping Elementary School held it's 89th Anniversary Celebration (or "Birthday Party," as the principal called it) which, at its core, meant that I had to work on a Saturday, but in the best way possible.

Seriously, why are they so cute?

If it seems like I'm enamored with Asian children in matching outfits, that's because I am. Each grade had a different costume theme. The costumes became increasingly bland as the students got older (Kindergarten students wore sparkly, rainbow outfits; 3rd graders wore bright yellow do-rags on their heads; 6th graders made paper crowns.) Obviously, I mostly took photos of the Kindergarten and First grade students.

Are they supposed to be birds? Native Americans? Mardi Gras revelers? Does it even matter?

Of course, the only thing I love more than Asian children in matching costumes is Asian children in matching costumes while dancing in unison. Pictured below are the kindergarteners doing a dance about being healthy and loving exercise. It reminded me of a Barbie aerobics video, but of course, much cuter. (The least adorable performance: belly-dancing 5th and 6th grade girls).


Like school-wide events in the US, the birthday celebration also included races of the three-legged, potato sack, and Teacher Vicky vs. Her Fulbright Adviser vs. Her Principal variety. There were also some relay races I'd never seen before. One race involved two children running together inside a hula hoop, kicking over some bottles, hula-hooping a few times, picking up the bottles, and giving the hoop to the next pair.




And I've definitely never seen these before in my life:




Apparently they're arm-powered and will only move in zig-zags, making even the very short distance of 6 feet take what feels like a lifetime. (Not recommended as a spectator sport)

One thing I didn't expect was for the event to trigger old memories. As a kid, I remember getting dragged to Taiwanese Association events, enjoying the first hour, and then fidgeting in my chair for another two hours while the Taiwanese Association board conducted what felt like the world's longest raffle. (Of note: the only thing my family ever won was a set of locker shelves that were way too wide for any of the lockers I had in my school days--and none of us had a locker at the time). Now I see that the Columbus Taiwanese Association is undeserving of this superlative--apparently all Taiwanese events include a raffle, and all of these raffles are long.

Playing the waiting game

Of course, there is always a reason to stay: THE ULTIMATE PRIZE! THE NEVER-ENDING DREAM!


One dean, the Dean of Discipline no less, was so excited when I pulled his name that he did a jig and almost cried. Imagine this: the man you're most afraid of seeing in the office, a very serious man, is jumping up and down in excitement. I think (I hope) he's giving the bike to his son.

***Bonus Photos*****

An imagined conversation between Dr. Phil and me as we enjoy massages after losing to Principal Tsai in the running race:

DP: I was impressed. The Principal had a huge head start and you caught up.
VC: Second place is first loser.


Can you see my official staff t-shirt? It has a koala and the word "Cute" on it. How very elementary school!

The Big Joke??

Thanks to Matt Akamatsu for sending me this blogpost from a former ESL teacher in Japan and long-term Japanese Resident. It doesn't exactly sum up my experience, but I think it gets at some of the tension we foreign teachers encounter as we attempt to teach English. Should we do our best to make our students the best English speakers possible, even if it requires us to make class no fun? Or should we try to make class fun so that they will be more interested in English in general at the expense of building a more solid linguistic foundation?

And if you think it's possible to do both at once, please let me know because I sure need the help.

Excerpt from
"Is ESL in Japan a big joke?"

Nick Ramsay on October 3rd, 2006

You’ve got two kinds of schools in Japan, the English Conversation eikaiwa schools, and juku, or cram schools. Eikaiwa are where the foreigners like myself teach, while juku are heads down, study, study, study, Japanese teacher-led classes. Although English lessons at juku focus soley on reading and writing English, I always thought that eikaiwa were equally important for learning communication. Now, though, I’m changing my mind…

After disciplining one of my elementary school students for atrocious behaviour, his mother kicked up at an enormous fuss.

“This isn’t a school!”, she said. “We don’t pay this money for you to discipline our children! They come here to have fun! If I wanted my child to learn English then I’d send him to juku!”

Highs and Lows

Confession: I'm not cut out to be a teacher in the long term.

I've suspected it for a long time. I like kids and I think education is important, but in the end, it's not enough to keep me in a classroom for the bulk of my working life.

One of my students doesn't know how to look at her book. This doesn't mean that she's illiterate--I think she knows how to read--but she literally refuses to look at her book. I tried to talk to a teacher about it who said that if a kid has already given up on herself, then it's her problem, not yours. Maybe this is how people stay in the game for the long haul.

I've been thinking about this article in the Oxford American about one man's first year teaching in New Orleans. It's worth reading--Sasha Frere Jones, music critic for the New Yorker, calls it a "gorgeous piece of writing." Somehow, I keep coming to this passage:

Right before you become a teacher, you are told by all manner of folks that it will be, 1) the hardest thing you’ve ever done, and 2) the best thing you’ve ever done. That seems like a recipe for recruiting wannabe martyrs. In any case, high stakes can blind you to the best moments. One day, I was stressing over what I imagined was my one-man quest to keep Darius in school and out of jail, and missed that a heated dispute between two fifth graders was escalating. Finally, I asked them what was wrong.

“Mr. Ramsey,” one of the boys pleaded, “will you please tell him that if you go into space for a year and come back to Earth that all your family will be dead because time moves slower in space?”

And today, when I was feeling grumpy about the aforementioned student, I was also able to regain my fortitude. I'm teaching an after school class on "English Conversation" to a group of bright, outgoing, and outright silly students. I think this pretty much sums them up:

The Cow of Knowledge and The Messy Teacher

First day of school! First day of school!

At least it was on September 1. I've been waiting until I had photos before I put up this post.

Shu-ting and I arrived at 7:30 am on Monday morning for our first day of school. By the time we got there, there were children everywhere sweeping the sidewalks and wiping down desks in the classrooms. It felt kind of weird sitting around in a classroom watching kids clean but not chipping in, but it's part of the culture. The students help the teachers do everything--kids move all the textbooks into the classrooms, they even decorate the classrooms according to the teacher's instructions. When one of my fellow ETAs mentioned to a teacher that we worked really hard to make posters for the English Village, the teacher replied, "Why didn't you just get the kids to make them?" I've always heard that in Asian society, students really respect their teachers, but it's the little things that drive the point home.

The first graders had their orientation ceremony that morning, which of course entailed lots of balloons:

Disclaimer: The reason I'm prominently featured in the following photos is not just because I'm a total narcissist. I forgot my camera that day and had to get the photos from the Dean of Academic Affairs. He, of course, thought that I only wanted photos that included myself, and I didn't feel like explaining that I wanted all of the photos to pick and choose from since he's really busy.

If you look carefully, you'll see stalks of green onions sticking out of the balloon arches or "the Gates of Wisdom." The Chinese word for green onion is cong1 which sounds like the Chinese word for smart, cong1ming2. Now, you may be asking, "Who is what man in the middle with the big balloon hat?" That's definitely the principal. The people on either side of the photo wearing balloon hats are also head administrators at the school. Pretty cool, huh?

After the kids walked through the gate, the principal gave a long speech about working hard and gaining knowledge. I zoned out for most of it, but at one point he definitely said, "You must grow bigger and stronger so that animals won't eat you!" After he finished his speech, one of the teachers rolled something large covered in a red blanket. She gave an emphatic speech and then dramatically threw off the blanket to reveal....

THE COW OF KNOWLEDGE!!!!!

They then had each child stand up and take a pack of Oreo cookies which were taped to the cow's back. I haven't gotten the full scoop on the cow of knowledge, but a friend told me that you're supposed to put a hair from the cow under your pillow on September 28, which I believe is Confucius day. If anyone wants to provide a thorough explanation of this practice, I'd be glad to post it.

Stealing the secrets of Chinese knowledge. Apparently it has something to do with high fructose corn syrup

They also asked me to introduce myself in front of the student body. I gave a short introduction in English and asked my co-teacher to translate for me since my Chinese isn't great. I tried to keep it short: "Hi, my name is Vicky. I am here from America and I will be teaching English for 1 year with Teacher Shuting. I'm really excited to be here!" Shuting decided that I needed a more thorough introduction, so in addition to translating my words, she noted that I'm trying to learn the words to Jay Chou's Cowboy on the Run so I can sing it at karaoke. She also told the kids: "Just like you are trying to learn English, Teacher Vicky is trying to learn Taiwanese. Right now she only knows one Taiwanese word: Musasa (translation: messy), so you should try to practice with her if you can!"

Now when I walk down the hallway, I hear kids yelling musasa! at me. I think it's going to be a great year!

Panda Eats, Shoots and Leaves

It was the best of days, it was the worst of days. I won't get too far into the bad stuff because apparently people can get in trouble for what they post on the internet, but it has all the elements of great literature: youthful strangers in a strange land, local politicking behind closed doors, racism, culture clash and tears--throw in an extramarital affair and we'd be all set.

And onto the good stuff: the 12 Kaohsiung Fulbright ETAs (that's English Teaching Assistants) will visit each of the 13 elementary schools where we could be placed by the end of Thursday. *aside: The process of placing us with an LET (Local English Teacher) also involves "speed dating" where the ETAs form an inner circle and the LETs form an outer circle and we rotate every minute until we meet all of our potential co-teachers. Why the foundation has decided to adopt such an awkward environment for social interaction is beyond my comprehension, but it's kind of funny so whatever.* We visited the first three schools today, and they made great efforts to woo us into making them our first choice school. A teacher at the first school argued that their school had the nicest facilities since it was only built 6 years ago AND tried to set me up with the national badminton champion gym teacher (you may think I'm joking... I wish you were right). At the second school, the principal boasted that his school was the oldest AND bought us bottled water and a laundry basket full of dragon eye fruit. The third school bought us iced coffee--a welcome treat on a searingly hot day.

And when we arrived at a fourth school (also a potential work site though not part of the day's official school tour) for a conference, the principal gave us buttons that he picked up in Beijing the previous week. Here's the one I chose:


Here's to a new tomorrow, hopefully one with more gunslinging pandas and fewer unpleasant encounters with messy, hidden politics. Cheers!