The fall semester just started this past week. I cleared off my desk, recycled all materials I didn't need, dusted and stacked the books I would be using for the "new semester". Every semester it is the same. It's a right of passage for us as teachers. We are starting all over again, with all new students. Everything in the past IS the past, it's gone, forgotten, banished to the garbage bin. We have clean, new notepads, updated versions of our classroom text that has that new book smell to them. We have new rules by administration, some of us get new office space. Most of us will buy a new outfit or two, and spruce it up with a new scarf, or a new pair of shoes. New means something to us, it is a chance to be the shining beacon of hope you once considered yourself to be, that teacher who would stay for hours after class explaining a concept until the student understood. We view ourselves as new, ready to be that new person in this young persons life who has something to impart to them. God, what a great word.
In short, it's a honeymoon. We love it, we bask in it, we revel in it and we hope that the honeymoon will last at least for a few weeks, till some sort of reality starts to creep into the classroom.
Until then, I'm in love and I'm on a honeymoon.....
Happy Fall everyone!
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Everyone Gets an A in China!
It is the end of the semester and as usual, I am trying to avoid having conversations with people who do not understand our grading system. It is almost impossible to try and explain to someone that in America you actually have to do several things to get a good grade: showing up for class is one, actually doing the required work is another. Contributing to class in a meaningful way and talking to the professor are huge as well. Perhaps even writing down an occasional note in your notebook, instead of taking pictures with your Iphone of the board (sigh).
The last day of class, I got locked into a conversation with a student. He was trying to tell me that he really deserved to pass this class with an A. I told him A's are really not given out, they are earned, to which he promply replied "We all get A's in China-to which I promptly replied "An A actually means something in America. It means you are exceptional, you did the work in a manner that was superior to others. He just stood there, with this ridiculous look on his face. "I'm exceptional" he said. I almost laughed in his face. I proceeded " If "exceptional" means late homework, falling asleep in class, late projects and not one page of notes taken in nine weeks, why then, yes, you are exceptional." I smiled, picked up my bad and left. The nerve.
The semester has ended. There were no A's, no surprises there. Everyone gets A's in China, or so I'm told. Funny, all those A students are merely C- students here, I wonder what an A in China REALLY means!
I'm off for the rest of summer, I will return on Sept 5th.
The last day of class, I got locked into a conversation with a student. He was trying to tell me that he really deserved to pass this class with an A. I told him A's are really not given out, they are earned, to which he promply replied "We all get A's in China-to which I promptly replied "An A actually means something in America. It means you are exceptional, you did the work in a manner that was superior to others. He just stood there, with this ridiculous look on his face. "I'm exceptional" he said. I almost laughed in his face. I proceeded " If "exceptional" means late homework, falling asleep in class, late projects and not one page of notes taken in nine weeks, why then, yes, you are exceptional." I smiled, picked up my bad and left. The nerve.
The semester has ended. There were no A's, no surprises there. Everyone gets A's in China, or so I'm told. Funny, all those A students are merely C- students here, I wonder what an A in China REALLY means!
I'm off for the rest of summer, I will return on Sept 5th.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Culture and Laughter...Um, that is so not funny
It happens with every new class. You have to explain all of the cultural things that you do, so they'll understand what the hell is going on. Like today, my student sneezed. I quickly said , bless you. The entire class laughs. I stop. Ok, why are you laughing? Silence. The Chinese love to laugh, they laugh at everything. They laugh at bad news, a horror story, hell, I'm convinced these people laugh at funerals. They laugh when you are telling a gut wrenching story, they laugh when you say something they don't like, basically, the default mode of these students is laughter. When in doubt of your own emotional welfare: laugh!
A westerner would get annoyed quickly. In fact, THIS westerner spent years adjusting to it and I'm not sure I'm entirely all there yet. I still cringe when I show a documentary on the Sudan and the horrors of that conflict and I hear laughter in my classroom. What is going on in their minds, I think to myself?
I have surmised that it must be an emotional reaction. Albeit, not the correct one, but it is a reaction.
I try to address this as gently as possible. Let's face it, in this culture, there are times you laugh till you pee yourself and times that you wouldn't dare let out a peep. I'm a bridge to what they will experience here and they need to know that laughing is a very specific reaction to very specific things.
I am currently working on this. They simply can't gauge any of these cultural waters. I have three weeks left. I'm getting tired of saying Um. that is so not funny, can you all please stop laughing.
Here's the kicker, when I want them to laugh, I crack a joke...............silence......crickets. (Sigh) my left arm for an audience.
A westerner would get annoyed quickly. In fact, THIS westerner spent years adjusting to it and I'm not sure I'm entirely all there yet. I still cringe when I show a documentary on the Sudan and the horrors of that conflict and I hear laughter in my classroom. What is going on in their minds, I think to myself?
I have surmised that it must be an emotional reaction. Albeit, not the correct one, but it is a reaction.
I try to address this as gently as possible. Let's face it, in this culture, there are times you laugh till you pee yourself and times that you wouldn't dare let out a peep. I'm a bridge to what they will experience here and they need to know that laughing is a very specific reaction to very specific things.
I am currently working on this. They simply can't gauge any of these cultural waters. I have three weeks left. I'm getting tired of saying Um. that is so not funny, can you all please stop laughing.
Here's the kicker, when I want them to laugh, I crack a joke...............silence......crickets. (Sigh) my left arm for an audience.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
schooling under the warm sun
Education does not only take place in the classroom. I tell myself this all the time, as I venture out the door to go sit in my garden and do my correcting. I sit under the gracious afternoon sun and walk through my papers. We are in our third week of school and my students are all very challenged, some are good, most are not. I wince at some of the sentences, I think, what am I doing with this class?
The birds sing their songs of wooing, I watch as the cat from next door tries to bag one of these prolific singers for lunch. The cat is too slow, and our singer flees to the top of the trees. He sits and continues to proclaim his love for his ladybird at the top of his lungs. Ah, summer in the garden.
I always think about taking my students to the garden. It would be wonderful, I think. We could draw and label the plants in English. We could talk about the seasons, growing food, soil, worms, birds, plants, rocks, fences, roses, chicken poop, spades, sweet peas, tomatoes, god, it's endless! Then I think to myself, no, my students are too young to appreciate what I see here.....why it is important. They would just turn on their phones, peer into them like zombies and tune out....
I dismiss the idea and go back to my homework. Yet, part of my mind drifts back to the what if, what if they really did like the garden, what if they really learned something.? This is the curse of a teacher. Always wondering, always thinking about what you could do to get your student interested in the world around them. Forget writing, structure, nouns, peer editing....forget all that.....the world needs to be engaged. There is so much out there....I dig my heels into the cool grass below the bench. I breathe deeply....it's time to get my correcting done.
The birds sing their songs of wooing, I watch as the cat from next door tries to bag one of these prolific singers for lunch. The cat is too slow, and our singer flees to the top of the trees. He sits and continues to proclaim his love for his ladybird at the top of his lungs. Ah, summer in the garden.
I always think about taking my students to the garden. It would be wonderful, I think. We could draw and label the plants in English. We could talk about the seasons, growing food, soil, worms, birds, plants, rocks, fences, roses, chicken poop, spades, sweet peas, tomatoes, god, it's endless! Then I think to myself, no, my students are too young to appreciate what I see here.....why it is important. They would just turn on their phones, peer into them like zombies and tune out....
I dismiss the idea and go back to my homework. Yet, part of my mind drifts back to the what if, what if they really did like the garden, what if they really learned something.? This is the curse of a teacher. Always wondering, always thinking about what you could do to get your student interested in the world around them. Forget writing, structure, nouns, peer editing....forget all that.....the world needs to be engaged. There is so much out there....I dig my heels into the cool grass below the bench. I breathe deeply....it's time to get my correcting done.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
They really do listen......
My spring semester has just ended, and just in time. My energy is gone, it's completely depleted.
I look forward to a very long May, I am going to attempt to fulfill my dream of going to Monticello, VA, then going for a wine tour. I will garden and write, I will try and regain my energy for my classes starting in early June. I will pack and get the house in order and go off for a few weeks to rest. However, before I leave, as I am organizing my office and putting all of my books in order, I sat down to read the reflections that my students wrote. Most students wrote about their challenges, what they learned, how much they worked, ordinary stuff. Except for this one student. She wrote " The most helpful thing is one sentence from my professor Diana, she said the most powerful weapon is the pen in your hand. I'm really impressed by this strong sentence and remember this in my heart."
We all hope that one student will remember just one thing, just one idea that we tried to plant in their young minds. As I write this, I realized that I have reached my goal of planting that one seed. Many of my students will go back to China, they will forget all of the summaries, all of the outlines and the vocabulary that we worked on. They eventually will fade from my memory, their names, their faces, their smiles, gone. The one thing I hope survives is the ability for them to recognize when they need to use that pen, when they have to find the strength in them to move themselves forward and use their intellect. In the end, it is the only thing that will collectively move us all forward. Viva education!
Rest well, all! I'll return this summer
I look forward to a very long May, I am going to attempt to fulfill my dream of going to Monticello, VA, then going for a wine tour. I will garden and write, I will try and regain my energy for my classes starting in early June. I will pack and get the house in order and go off for a few weeks to rest. However, before I leave, as I am organizing my office and putting all of my books in order, I sat down to read the reflections that my students wrote. Most students wrote about their challenges, what they learned, how much they worked, ordinary stuff. Except for this one student. She wrote " The most helpful thing is one sentence from my professor Diana, she said the most powerful weapon is the pen in your hand. I'm really impressed by this strong sentence and remember this in my heart."
We all hope that one student will remember just one thing, just one idea that we tried to plant in their young minds. As I write this, I realized that I have reached my goal of planting that one seed. Many of my students will go back to China, they will forget all of the summaries, all of the outlines and the vocabulary that we worked on. They eventually will fade from my memory, their names, their faces, their smiles, gone. The one thing I hope survives is the ability for them to recognize when they need to use that pen, when they have to find the strength in them to move themselves forward and use their intellect. In the end, it is the only thing that will collectively move us all forward. Viva education!
Rest well, all! I'll return this summer
Thursday, January 12, 2012
A New Year, a new semester....same ol' issues
Happy New Year! 2012! We're off to a great start this semester. I have two classes full of eager, rested students ready to work! I am organized, fueled and ready to go. The first few days are full of anticipation, both for my students and for myself. As the week went by, I realized that this may be a new year, but there are some things that will NEVER change...allow me to explain.
Day four of our first week, I start in on my in-class essay work. I have a great exercise where I give my students a postcard, pair them up, and ask them to talk about it, take notes and brainstorm about the senses it evokes, or words that come to them. We are working on a descriptive essay and my students seem sharp and interested even before we start. I start giving out the postcards, one is of Picasso's lover, one is a scene in Vienna, Austria, another is a scene in Santorini, Greece. Picturesque, beautiful landscapes, with brilliant blue skies, architecture that is thousands of years old. I am floating around the classroom, handing out my joy, in the form of a postcard. My traveling life is in this pile of postcards and I'm delighted to share it with my students.
I give two males students the postcard of the Sistina Chapel, The Creation of Adam. That's when it started. Immediately, they started laughing, I ignored them. I walked back to my computer and explained further what to do with the newly passed out postcard. They kept laughing, I continued to ignore them. Finally, I slowly start to realize that these two "boys" are in fact boys and that they may be laughing at Michaelangelo's depiction of the human body. This swiftly enters my brain, and I solidly reject it. Surely, this is a group of graduate students, this is art. How can think it's silly?
After I realized that they weren't going to stop anytime soon, I had to get up and go back and have a talk with my two hysterical males. I quietly asked why they were laughing so uncontrollably. That's when one of my students said, "These are homosexy mens". I remain calm and ask them do you realize what you are looking at? They both shake their heads, no. I quietly tell them this is the cornerstone of High Renaissance Art. I ask them do they know what that means. They say no. I tell them to stop laughing and just do the assignment.
I go back to my desk and sigh a very long sigh......grown men looking at a drawing of a naked man and laughing hysterically, unable to stop........I shift my weight and look up at the ceiling and think, holy hairdos, I am teaching a bunch of eight year olds.
Day four of our first week, I start in on my in-class essay work. I have a great exercise where I give my students a postcard, pair them up, and ask them to talk about it, take notes and brainstorm about the senses it evokes, or words that come to them. We are working on a descriptive essay and my students seem sharp and interested even before we start. I start giving out the postcards, one is of Picasso's lover, one is a scene in Vienna, Austria, another is a scene in Santorini, Greece. Picturesque, beautiful landscapes, with brilliant blue skies, architecture that is thousands of years old. I am floating around the classroom, handing out my joy, in the form of a postcard. My traveling life is in this pile of postcards and I'm delighted to share it with my students.
I give two males students the postcard of the Sistina Chapel, The Creation of Adam. That's when it started. Immediately, they started laughing, I ignored them. I walked back to my computer and explained further what to do with the newly passed out postcard. They kept laughing, I continued to ignore them. Finally, I slowly start to realize that these two "boys" are in fact boys and that they may be laughing at Michaelangelo's depiction of the human body. This swiftly enters my brain, and I solidly reject it. Surely, this is a group of graduate students, this is art. How can think it's silly?
After I realized that they weren't going to stop anytime soon, I had to get up and go back and have a talk with my two hysterical males. I quietly asked why they were laughing so uncontrollably. That's when one of my students said, "These are homosexy mens". I remain calm and ask them do you realize what you are looking at? They both shake their heads, no. I quietly tell them this is the cornerstone of High Renaissance Art. I ask them do they know what that means. They say no. I tell them to stop laughing and just do the assignment.
I go back to my desk and sigh a very long sigh......grown men looking at a drawing of a naked man and laughing hysterically, unable to stop........I shift my weight and look up at the ceiling and think, holy hairdos, I am teaching a bunch of eight year olds.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Culture.....oh yeah, that!
I am on break and since being on break, I have taken to reading my many books that my friends and loved ones recommend to me. I have procured a new cookbook written by Julia Child's collaborator and bosom buddy, Simca. Since I love reading about food and the various adventures Simca had, I was thrilled to start reading about her life, her stories and how food has played a major part in all of it.
For those who do not know the background, Simca had a marvelous idea. She thought to compose a book of French recipes for the Americans who wanted to learn how to cook French. This is where her trouble began. Much like many of my students, Simca labored under the illusion that what is good for one, must be good for the other. The Americans are just like the French, we eat, they eat. The ingredients are the same, the attitude toward food is the same. She tried to get her first cookbook published by an American publishing house and received a flat refusal. Why? Too detailed, too complicated and not enough knowledge of how Americans REALLY cook. She was stumped, what could possibly be so different in America?
Enter Julia Child. Simca met Julia through a fellow friend and it was through Julia that she realized what many of my students do not. Culture is omni-present, it is in everything we think, do and act out. It is in our food, how we prepare our food, how we think about food and why we think in that particular manner. Julia helped Simca to realize that Americans do not approach food as the French do. The ingredients are different, they eat at different times, they would never even know were to purchase creme fraiche, let alone learn how to pronounce it. Simca was amazed and realized that she had been foolish. Culture matters, even in the kitchen, with such a simple act as making a cookie or home roasting coffee, culture seeps into every aspect of the actions and the outcomes.
Reading Simca's account made me think about how bamboozled we are when faced with the actuality that other people in other countries simply do not do what we do. We travel to other countries and insist on carrying on in our own little cultural pods of behavior and thought, not realizing we are pissing everyone else around us off.
In conclusion, as we move through 2012 and continue to travel, write, compose, create, and in general move about with our fabulous lives, it is always important to think about our cultural expectations and just how odd they may seem to others! Happy New Year to all! May your new year be filled with cultural adventures, good food, great conversations, and fabulous books!
For those who do not know the background, Simca had a marvelous idea. She thought to compose a book of French recipes for the Americans who wanted to learn how to cook French. This is where her trouble began. Much like many of my students, Simca labored under the illusion that what is good for one, must be good for the other. The Americans are just like the French, we eat, they eat. The ingredients are the same, the attitude toward food is the same. She tried to get her first cookbook published by an American publishing house and received a flat refusal. Why? Too detailed, too complicated and not enough knowledge of how Americans REALLY cook. She was stumped, what could possibly be so different in America?
Enter Julia Child. Simca met Julia through a fellow friend and it was through Julia that she realized what many of my students do not. Culture is omni-present, it is in everything we think, do and act out. It is in our food, how we prepare our food, how we think about food and why we think in that particular manner. Julia helped Simca to realize that Americans do not approach food as the French do. The ingredients are different, they eat at different times, they would never even know were to purchase creme fraiche, let alone learn how to pronounce it. Simca was amazed and realized that she had been foolish. Culture matters, even in the kitchen, with such a simple act as making a cookie or home roasting coffee, culture seeps into every aspect of the actions and the outcomes.
Reading Simca's account made me think about how bamboozled we are when faced with the actuality that other people in other countries simply do not do what we do. We travel to other countries and insist on carrying on in our own little cultural pods of behavior and thought, not realizing we are pissing everyone else around us off.
In conclusion, as we move through 2012 and continue to travel, write, compose, create, and in general move about with our fabulous lives, it is always important to think about our cultural expectations and just how odd they may seem to others! Happy New Year to all! May your new year be filled with cultural adventures, good food, great conversations, and fabulous books!
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