OPEN SEASON

On Monday 10/8 I had my first “open” class. Mind you, I’ve got the flu (again) and no voice (again). Nonetheless, my school demands these things called “open classes” which is basically an observed class that all teachers who are free sit in on. After the class, the teachers find time to get together and critique/discuss the class. Because I’m the freak puppy “foreign” girl, EVERYONE attended my open class. We’re talking from the head of all the schools in my compound to the developer who owns the compound (and about 4 others around the city).

My class size is about 40 students and there were easily 60 people sitting in on my class. We’re talking a room full of at least 100 people all there for me. Fortunately, I got to choose which class I was going to use for my open class. Consequently, I chose the first class of the 7th grade. Frankly, those kids rock. They’re funny and eager and smart. They’ve got such amazing energy and it’s the only class where the students who don’t really follow the class not only don’t sleep, they police the class for people being disrespectful.

Okay. So, let’s recap. I’m American (to clarify: abroad, “American” is not really a selling point; for some reason, we’ve got the reputation as arrogant bastards desperate to save the world from itself). I’ve got minimal teaching experience. My colleagues have all been training to be a teacher since they were 15 years old. I’m ME. There is no reason on the PLANET for me to have the rapt attention of 100 people. And, the last time I had the center of that much attention, I was training New York’s first response disaster relief workers on emergency response as the Eastern Seaboard Blackout hit. In other words, my comfort level was nowhere near the auditorium I found myself in.

Nonetheless, I took a deep breath as the bell rang and focused on my students. Say what they will about me, my number one priority is my students. Ultimately, I can hop in a cab tonight, get myself to the airport and be on the next plane to New York before sunrise. I have choices about my life. They do not. They not only can’t leave Xi’An any time soon, they quite probably will never set foot outside of China. The Chinese culture is so much about saving face and the officials who sat in on my class certainly could have major effects on those kids’ lives.

Consequently, it may come as no surprise that my normally boisterous class was petrified. I could see it in their faces, clear as day. The boys I usually joke and pal around with could barely blink. The girls I usually gossip and trade complimentary giggles with could only do the forced, defensive smile of the sane person in a Terry Gilliam movie.

The deafening bell finished ringing and about 100 faces just stared at me, almost have of which were ready to wet themselves. I tapped into my “disaster relief worker calm reserve” (it’s the calm you manage to muster when the world is falling down around your ears but other people need you to keep it together more than you need to indulge in a meltdown) and do what I always do as I’m trying to collect myself; I smiled and said, “Okay.”

At the sound of “Okay” the entire room stood up and my mind went blank. This is part of no script I’m accustomed to. Where are my kids who tease me? Where are my girls who flit about the room? Where are my boys who laugh at the silly faces I make? Frankly, who the fuck is this class? I know the class I signed up to help me through this nightmare and these kids are not it. These kids are decidedly standing-on-ritual (literally) Chinese students.

I would like to think it was an inspiring moment but, tragically, all I could think of was that generic clip of “The People’s Court” that they always show where the Bailiff says something about, “Please rise for the honorable so-and-so.” Actually, that’s not totally honest. I was watching the tape inside my head but the voice inside my head was screaming, “FAST FUCKING FORWARD TO THE PART WHERE THE BLACK ROBE GETS THEM TO SIT DOWN!”

It must have been the nerves as my mental DVD player ate the DVD. The image stalled out as the black robe gets to the chair opens its mouth and then the picture pixilated. Which led to the train of thought, “Michi! Michi’s going to be a judge. What would she say?” And then I got another mental image of watching Michi in a black robe saying, “Please be seated.”

All of a sudden, I heard my incredibly mature voice from somewhere far away say, “Please be seated.” With that, they all sat down. In unison. And then, though I thought “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING?” I smiled graciously.

I’d like to say I remember a lot about the class but the thing about slowing down the first 30 seconds of class for an hour and a half, is that the rest of the 45 minutes of class tends to be recorded in a blur (though I do remember glancing at my watch more than once thinking “There is NO way I’m going to be able to fill another X number of minutes.”). Essentially, I taught a class on “Introducing Things.” They have spent the last few weeks learning how to introduce themselves and then each other in real time (as opposed to just copying and multiple choicing it out of a book) in class. Consequently, they’re very familiar with the structure of the class.

I open the class with an extended example of real life introduction. I talk for about 10 or 15 minutes to warm them up to working on the fly and verbally. In that discussion there are a few loose questions that they may answer or I’m prepared to answer if they don’t quite get it. Then, I review the bulk of information in simpler terms; I break it down to 4 key questions. (This week it was: 1. What is it? 2. Who owns it? 3. What does it do? 4. What if they don’t have it?) I then break the answers to my example down in to four key sentences. (1. It is a [blank] 2. It belongs to [blank] 3. It is for [blank] 4. Without it [blank]) Once I have finished my example, we walk through one together, filling in the blanks as we go. (I use the “fill in the blank” route because it’s the most informal structure they’re accustomed to. Consequently, the students get both the structure they need as a springboard to expansion as well as an exercise in generating answers themselves.) Then, I break the kids into 4 “Teams.” (They sit in 4 rows of ten and each day, they sit in a different seat, so the teams are always different but the rows are always even.) They get two rounds to have as many team members as possible fill in the blanks. Between the pressure to answer quickly and the camaraderie that is so prevalent here, the kids don’t have time to be self-conscious or nervous. I also make a great effort never to reprimand them for “incorrect” answers. Rather, on the rare occasion there is a glaring error, I help them see another way out by offering them a few options. But, barring the occasional glaring error, they get nothing but praise during the game. I’ve decided to make my priority “communication” over “accuracy.” They get enough accuracy from their other classes. There is enough beat-down everywhere else. (We make a t-shirt out of “Beating will continue until morale improves.” China makes school policy out of it.) I just want them to get the message that they can use English, regardless of what the tests say.

Now, normally with my loud, energetic kids, the class ends with the game because we have so much back and forth during the rest of class. However, with the terror of the open class bearing down on the bambini, not so much. I was left with a full 10 minutes to spare.

So, I started walking around the room and pointed out things for the kids to introduce. I eventually had to go back to the observers and pick up things from them, to their surprisingly great amusement and entertainment. All in all, I had the day pegged as not a complete failure but not the smooth sailing I had hoped for.
As the bell rang, I returned to the stage upon which I’m supposed to stay all class period and as I turned around, the whole auditorium was standing again.

“Not again” I thought.

And then they all leaned over and said (in unison) “Thank you teacher.”

And I thought, “They’re bowing. A horde of people is bowing in my general direction. WHAT?”

As they came up, all I could say was, “Thank you for your time. “

It was definitely surreal but the most surreal part was the congratulations everyone gave me on the way out. Apparently, the class was the liveliest the teachers had ever observed and it was deemed a “great success.”

I dunno. We’ll find out Friday afternoon when I have the postmortem with my fellow English teaching colleagues.