Teacher Woes

I often pick up substitute work on Saturdays. The pay is decent at 250 HKD an hour. But sometimes it’s really not worth it.

Up until a few weeks ago, I had never taught children older than six years old. I was under the false presumption that young Primary students would be able to understand English better than Kindergartners. When I got the “Are you an alien?” look, these children were either sincere or they were highly skilled in getting over on the substitute teacher.

So my woes began with 20 seven-year-olds in a Primary school. At the start of the day, a teacher pointed to a boy in the back of the class.

She said, “This boy. Watch him. He is, uh…” And then she made a gesture to suggest he was crazy. She then continued. “He is problems in his head. He is active. Sometimes he hit children.”

I managed a “Thanks” as she closed the door. For the next hour, I was * alone* with these kids.

In the hour that ensued, I might just have well been in a room full of monkeys on coffee binges. A feeling of hopelessly drowning set in. One student after another would rattle to me in Chinese. I inadvertently taught them all how to say “I don’t speak Chinese”. And the boy who “is problems in his head” was not the only one who couldn’t sit still for more than 20 seconds. But I was fortunate to think ahead and bring chocolate for which I used as a bribe: “sit down” and “shut your mouth.”

The other classes fared a tad better than the first, but all in all I was convinced that Kindergarten is where I belong.

But then, toward the end of the day, a teacher interrupted my lesson to ask why a boy hit his head during the first class.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” was my consistent answer.

She became visibly frustrated saying, “The father take him to hospital. The father is angry.”

I imagined a father frothing at the mouth ready for revenge. Swords swinging, I plunge to my death from the top of a concrete Primary School. To celebrate, the father takes the entire school out for dim sum and rice wine while my obituary reads: Jennifer Farr – useless Primary teacher.

In the end nothing came of this nightmare. I immediately called my company for which I thank daily for acting as mediator between me and countless school affiliates who’s English is MUCH better than my Chinese.

And my new mantra for dealing with life’s difficulties: “He is problems in his head.”