Ichinensee

Yesterday I got to leave work early to bike against ridiculously forceful winds to the regional English Speech Contest. I've been staying after work for the past few weeks, coaching the four junior high students entered in the contest. Sometimes one of the English teachers would accompany us, but more often than not it was just me and the kids. So beyond bettering pronunciation, all I could do to get my suggestions across was mime it out.

The two + hour contest was at first sorta nerve-wracking and then just kinda boring. Luckily from time to time there'd be some especially strange and unintelligible recitations that would force me to dig my nails into my arm so I wouldn't laugh out loud.

My worst fears were realized when my first year student, who as of the day before still hadn't memorized her piece, broke down onstage and spent the majority of her two minute allotment crying. It was really, really uncomfortable , but I didn't think I was allowed to shout out the next sentence or anything, so I just sat there and felt terrible. Directly after that the head English teacher and I relocated to the other hall where our next student would be speaking. On the way, with crying First Year in tow, I didn't know what I could say, or even if I should say anything. It wasn't until we'd dropped her off downstairs and it was just the English teacher and I in the elevator that I turned to her and told her I felt terrible. The teacher, whose cultural uniqueness prevented me from knowing whether she meant what she said next or whether it was just decency, said, "It was her responsibility." I know that is true, but that didn't help me from feeling bad for the harsh lesson the girl had just learned, or from feeling like I was somehow being blamed in the matter. I kept telling her she had to memorize it, and as the day of the contest neared I couldn't help wondering why in the world this girl had signed up for this if she didn't want to go ahead and do it. I thought about talking to a teacher and telling them that she might consider dropping out, but I didn't have the time and I didn't know if that would somehow be rude. I also kind of hoped one of the teachers who could actually communicate with the kids would talk to her and realize she wouldn't be able to participate... or something. It is not like I ever know what is going on, so I can't blame myself, but all the same I still feel bad.

On the other hand, one of my third year students won second place in his division. His speech, "Having a Dream," was about his desire to one day become a pilot. I told him one day after practice that my dad had been a pilot in the navy, and was stationed in Japan. I was also able to confirm that, yes, he was a fighter pilot. I think I rounded out the impressive-anecdote-ness when I told the student that my dad had been to Top Gun, too.

Because the contest was regional, all the other ALTs from the area were there. Of them, I knew five beyond myself: Hylton, Marc and Mike (two ALTs who work for the same company as Hyl and I) and Bethann and Tammy, two girls who've been here in the JET program for a year already. After the contest all of us except for Tammy went to Bethann's place, where we made nori rolls and laughed about some of the ridiculous speeches we'd seen that day. Apparently I really missed out by not catching "An Adventure in Space," which, according to inside sources, had to be considerably revised from the version the previous ALT had left, due to meticulous description of graphic violence. Popular recitation topics appeared to be environmentalism, the bombing of Hiroshima, and Martin Luther King, Jr. I definitely had a "huh?" moment when a kid got up to the podium and without warning started reciting the "I Have Dream" speech. I won't defile it with an attempt to transcribe the accent here, but I imagine you get the point.

I hope I am not jinxing myself by saying this now, but I think I am slowly getting into the groove at work. There is still a ton I am clueless on, but as I doggedly march on I pick up new things every day. All the ALTs I've talked to who've already been here for awhile agree that it does get better, though unfortunately in the next breath they say "in about six months." That being unfortunate, of course, because we are contracted to work for just seven months. We'll see.

As I've already mentioned, I work mostly at a junior high school. I start at my second elementary school this upcoming Friday, so that now my weekdays are:

Monday: Naruto Higashi Junior High
Tuesday: Naruto Higashi Junior High
Wednesday: Naruto Higashi Junior High, Nango Elementary (after lunch)
Thursday: Naruto Higashi Junior High
Friday: Naruto Higashi Junior High, Naruhama Elementary (after lunch)

I've only taught four classes, first grade and fifth grade, at Nango Elementary School so far. The second fifth-grade class went pretty well, but the first fifth grade class... not so much. And this is where the importance of teacher cooperation becomes a huge deal. The problem (or benefit) with teaching so many different classes is that I have to (get to) work with many different teachers. This improves my adaptability skills, as well as freeing me from having as many classes with a teacher I don't work well with. The difficulty is trying to figure out everyone's different teaching style and their varying expectations of me. And remembering all of their names. That fifth grade class that didn't go so well was due in large part to the teacher not making even the slightest effort to help me out. I could figure out some of the student's questions, but my vocabulary is really limited and the majority of the time the students and I couldn't understand each other. When I'd look over to the teacher for help she'd pointedly look away. Okay, thanks. I understand some people might be embarrassed at their inability to speak a language their students are supposed to be learning, but the majority of teachers will at least make some attempt to mime things out for you. Apparently, some will not. What bugs me most about this is that it is really hurting the student's capacity to learn. If they see that their teacher won't even try, why should they? And by the time they get to junior high school, there are a few in each class that probably decided that long ago.

The first grade classes, blessedly, were far different and are to date two of my best teaching experiences. Most kids in this area haven't come into contact with many (or sometimes any) non-Asian people. Thus my appearance at school elicited not only the usual interest that comes with the addition of a new person to the scenery, but in most cases surprise and extreme excitement. Everything I said was immensely interesting, and the question-and-answer portion of the lesson I teach at every new class lasted much much longer than usual.
Common questions were stuff like: What is my favorite-
color
type of bird
hairstyle
type of fruit
and
mode of transportation (to which I was like...huh? why would a six year old be interested in whether I liked trains or buses better?)


For the first grade Q & A, the kids raise their hands and I choose somebody, and the teacher calls out the name. The kids then shyly stand up and mumble some Japanese, which I normally have to look to the teacher to help me figure out. Some kids, however, were apparently proud of their English skills, and stood up to say things like "Banana!" before beaming and sitting down.

After everyone is out of questions, I teach "My name is ____ . Nice to meet you!" I then walk around the room to shake everyone's hand and get them to tell me their names this way. For some kids this is cake, but others have trouble with every syllable. Some make it fine through "My name is" and only get stuck when they actually have to recall their name. The teacher is usually bent over nearby and whispering the kid's name for them to repeat, as the kid's eyes sort of drift around the room like they are trying to remember some long lost memory.

I think one of my favorite memories so far was from this past Wednesday, right after I had finished teaching my second first grade class. As I entered the hallway I was attacked by the first graders from the classroom next door, the ones I had taught the week previous. They ran out into the hall screaming "Meredesu-sensei!!!" (sensei = teacher) and circled around me shouting. The two first grade teachers just kind of stood by and laughed, but the kids were all shouting and bumping into one another to try to stand near me. Unfortunately I couldn't understand the other things they were saying to me, but many seemed appeased to just say hello or tell me their name again. Overall very, very cute. I think my face actually hurt after each class from smiling so much.



Tomorrow (Sunday), Hylton is driving Marc, Mike and I to the Costco in Chiba City. Yes, they have Costco here. I think only three, but one of them is about an hour away, so... yeah. We are going to try to stop in Chiba City on the way back home, for Hylton to buy a mic stand and look at a ridiculously expensive guitar he wants. Meanwhile, I plan to head to Loft, a store recommended to me by Bethann for all things cute. I love cute things, I love them I love them. I also love Japanese snack foods. I'd start waxing poetic here, but that deserves it's own entry.