(no subject)
I`ll wait a week or two before officially dubbing 1-1-B "Evil Ichi," but they were the first class I`ve had so far that wasn`t full of happy hyper kids. They slept. They talked through my self-intro. They ignored the bingo game I tried to play with them. A vegetable-like boy stood in the corner and refused to acknowledge my existence. S Sensei did nothing to help me. The only time anyone voluntarily spoke English was when I asked them to stand up and one boy said "No," and started a small mutiny. Grrrr.
This morning I had a class with 1-1-B, the lower-scoring half of the first year art-focus kids. I have now mentally dubbed them Evil Ichi, though I guess they weren`t too bad. All the other classes I`ve taught so far have been full of really sweet kids who suck at English but are still interested in what`s going on anyway Not this class. As I walked in one boy said "Time to sleep!" in Japanese and put his head down, and that set the tone for the rest of the class. (He did, however, sit up again when I lightly bopped him on the head with the rolled up map I was carrying.) The five girls listened to my self-intro, but the boys just talked right over the top of me. Next I started the bingo game, but no one was marking their papers. I stopped to figure out what was going on. "Ah, we play bingo different in Japan," said S Sensei, the teacher who had been up to now just translating at random. I asked her to explain what she means (especially since I was using a version of the game shown to me by Y sensei) and all she could say was "It is . . . ah . . . different." I walked around the room and established that the kids did in fact understand the game, they just weren`t playing. I did eventually get them to play, no thanks to the teacher.
Next came the worksheets she had wanted them to fill out. Except I hadn`t realized that I was supposed to copy and bring the worksheets. Oops. I started an impromptu activity where each kid stood up and could only sit down again if they told me something they like. It went okay until I got to the kid in the corner who was half slumped against the desk behind him, staring at the floor. He wouldn`t talk, wouldn`t make eye contact, nothing. As I was cajolling him to speak I looked around at the rest of the class and realized that they had been expecting this and were watching to see what I would do. This kid must do that a lot. S sensei went from vaguely requesting him to speak to tentatively scolding him, but he still did nothing, so I just went on with the rest of the class. S sensei went to go get copies while I had them all stand up again to answer "What is your name?" She still wasn`t back after that. I asked them to stand up again. "No," said one boy, the first English spoken voluntarily thus far. The mutiny was on. They would stand up. I was mentally panicking but I cheerfully skipped around to the nicer students and asked them individually to stand up, and once a few of them were the rest followed. Phew! The worksheets were boring, but uneventful, and then the class was mercifully over.
After class I went to check with U sensei (horrible horrible U sensei) whether I was supposed to teach with him next period like the schedule says I`m supposed to. "NO! As I told you in August, we will not begin za team teaching until later!" Okay, okay, I was just checking, you freak, no need to get so pissy. I`ll just pretend that he isn`t deliberately rude to me every time I talk to him, it`s just because his English sucks. Nevermind the fact that I`m already working with every other teacher but him. I`ll write a lengthy rant about U sensei some other time.
Anyway, S sensei (who is an older female part-time teacher) wanted to talk about what we would do with the 2-1 class later in the week. I`m not too sure about this since U sensei is the head of the 2nd year`s English course and damned if I`m going to go ask him. But I said I want to do self-introduction lessons like we did with the first years, only stepping it up a little bit, so I can get to know the students, whaddya think? S sensei looked confused at my asking her opinion and what she thought we should do, and as I tried asking her some stuff to figure where the second year`s ability lies in between Evil Ichi and the awesome third years, it came out that she has no idea how to plan a lesson, and that before Kelly made all her own lesson plans and worksheets and everything. Ooookaaay, great for Kelly, but I just got here and I`ve never met these kids and I AM NOT A TRAINED TEACHER! See the acronym? A L T? Assistant teacher means I`ll try my damndest but really have no clue wtf I am doing, so the real teacher had better know how to teach! Rargh.
But I had my lovely third year class again later, and as usual they were happy hyper chatty fun. We played a game where half faced the front and half faced back, and one partner had to guess what picture was on the board behind them from the other partner`s descriptions. They really got into it, and I tried to choose pictures that would maintain a decent level of energy. I misjudged the effect the Kat-tun picture would have; it caused a small riot among the girls that didn`t subside until each had pointed out her favorite member and I had promised to give the picture to one especially diehard fan. The queen of the emo eyeliner sports girls had none of it though, saying she preferred professional fighters to boy-bands. I love that class.
This morning I had a class with 1-1-B, the lower-scoring half of the first year art-focus kids. I have now mentally dubbed them Evil Ichi, though I guess they weren`t too bad. All the other classes I`ve taught so far have been full of really sweet kids who suck at English but are still interested in what`s going on anyway Not this class. As I walked in one boy said "Time to sleep!" in Japanese and put his head down, and that set the tone for the rest of the class. (He did, however, sit up again when I lightly bopped him on the head with the rolled up map I was carrying.) The five girls listened to my self-intro, but the boys just talked right over the top of me. Next I started the bingo game, but no one was marking their papers. I stopped to figure out what was going on. "Ah, we play bingo different in Japan," said S Sensei, the teacher who had been up to now just translating at random. I asked her to explain what she means (especially since I was using a version of the game shown to me by Y sensei) and all she could say was "It is . . . ah . . . different." I walked around the room and established that the kids did in fact understand the game, they just weren`t playing. I did eventually get them to play, no thanks to the teacher.
Next came the worksheets she had wanted them to fill out. Except I hadn`t realized that I was supposed to copy and bring the worksheets. Oops. I started an impromptu activity where each kid stood up and could only sit down again if they told me something they like. It went okay until I got to the kid in the corner who was half slumped against the desk behind him, staring at the floor. He wouldn`t talk, wouldn`t make eye contact, nothing. As I was cajolling him to speak I looked around at the rest of the class and realized that they had been expecting this and were watching to see what I would do. This kid must do that a lot. S sensei went from vaguely requesting him to speak to tentatively scolding him, but he still did nothing, so I just went on with the rest of the class. S sensei went to go get copies while I had them all stand up again to answer "What is your name?" She still wasn`t back after that. I asked them to stand up again. "No," said one boy, the first English spoken voluntarily thus far. The mutiny was on. They would stand up. I was mentally panicking but I cheerfully skipped around to the nicer students and asked them individually to stand up, and once a few of them were the rest followed. Phew! The worksheets were boring, but uneventful, and then the class was mercifully over.
After class I went to check with U sensei (horrible horrible U sensei) whether I was supposed to teach with him next period like the schedule says I`m supposed to. "NO! As I told you in August, we will not begin za team teaching until later!" Okay, okay, I was just checking, you freak, no need to get so pissy. I`ll just pretend that he isn`t deliberately rude to me every time I talk to him, it`s just because his English sucks. Nevermind the fact that I`m already working with every other teacher but him. I`ll write a lengthy rant about U sensei some other time.
Anyway, S sensei (who is an older female part-time teacher) wanted to talk about what we would do with the 2-1 class later in the week. I`m not too sure about this since U sensei is the head of the 2nd year`s English course and damned if I`m going to go ask him. But I said I want to do self-introduction lessons like we did with the first years, only stepping it up a little bit, so I can get to know the students, whaddya think? S sensei looked confused at my asking her opinion and what she thought we should do, and as I tried asking her some stuff to figure where the second year`s ability lies in between Evil Ichi and the awesome third years, it came out that she has no idea how to plan a lesson, and that before Kelly made all her own lesson plans and worksheets and everything. Ooookaaay, great for Kelly, but I just got here and I`ve never met these kids and I AM NOT A TRAINED TEACHER! See the acronym? A L T? Assistant teacher means I`ll try my damndest but really have no clue wtf I am doing, so the real teacher had better know how to teach! Rargh.
But I had my lovely third year class again later, and as usual they were happy hyper chatty fun. We played a game where half faced the front and half faced back, and one partner had to guess what picture was on the board behind them from the other partner`s descriptions. They really got into it, and I tried to choose pictures that would maintain a decent level of energy. I misjudged the effect the Kat-tun picture would have; it caused a small riot among the girls that didn`t subside until each had pointed out her favorite member and I had promised to give the picture to one especially diehard fan. The queen of the emo eyeliner sports girls had none of it though, saying she preferred professional fighters to boy-bands. I love that class.