For six solid years, I was shocked at how bad the Spanish teachers were in Northbrook. How could our districts be so great in every other subject, yet so bad at Spanish? Then in college, I had my first good Spanish teacher. I really enjoyed Spanish class that Sophomore fall and probably learned more than I did in all of high school. While our teacher that semester had us call him Harry, I almost felt bad calling him that because of how much I enjoyed the class. I realized that good foreign language teachers existed; they had just escaped me in the years prior.
The teachers I had in middle school and high school might not have been good teachers, but in the eyes of many they were imminently qualified to teach Spanish for one simple reason: they spoke it.
Within hours of arriving in Yanji I was told by one of the brothers here, a Korean who also teaches English, that, “You are best English teachers.” Now maybe something was just lost in translation from his native Korean to the broken English that he used to talk with me, but I couldn’t understand how I was already known to be such a great English teacher when I hadn’t taught anything more than a swim lesson in my entire life.
The proof lies in my background, I guess. I was already one of the best English teachers at the school, even before I taught a single lesson, because I would be one of two native English speakers teaching here this year.
How could I not be more valuable to the students than a collection of Chinese and Korean people who teach a language they have not yet mastered? While the majority of the English teachers at the school might know more about teaching than I do, they will never have the expertise in English that I have.
I am a good English teacher for one simple reason: I speak it.
***
I teach three classes each week at a technical high school in Yanji. There is one class each of first, second, and third year English majors and each class meets about four times a week and has around ten students in it. Before I started working, I really had no idea how much of a foreign language teacher I would be. Of course I came here to China to teach English, but it never occurred to me how similar my classes would be to the foreign language classes I took when I was younger.
On the first day of my first class with the first year students we were supposed to help them choose English names. When I had been in Spanish classes I always just made Robert into Spanish, making my name Roberto. It is not as easy to convert Chinese and Korean names into English, so the students chose completely different names. I’m not sure if giving the students English names was for the students benefit or more for our own benefit (so that we wouldn’t have to remember Chinese and Korean names) but the head of the English department told us that we should give them examples of names that they could use.
Because it was the first day, and a third teacher from the Philippines had to go and handle some visa issues (of which there can be many), my roommate Gavin and I combined the three classes for one day. As Gavin started talking to the students about how they had to choose English names I went to the front of the classroom and wrote female at the top and listed some names below it that the students could choose:
Female
Kate
Maribeth
Katie
Mary
Julie
Gaby
Cindy
Teresa
At this point Gavin turned around, looked at the board, and said, “Maribeth? Isn’t that a bit complicated?” I apologized while I contemplated how I should have covered the board entirely with derivations and combinations of Kate and Mary. I continued to write names as students mentioned them secretly hoping that the students would pick the names of my friends. Earlier this fall my friend Maribeth had named a flock of geese after our friends and I was determined to one up her by naming a class full of Chinese people after them.
With a large collection of female names on the board (there are far more girls in the English classes than boys) we moved on to the male names. At this point I had a very intense 30 second debate in my mind as to whether or not I should write Sharky* on the board. Sure it was kind of a name, but it also wasn’t really a name. I decided against it. [sorry bro]
Male
Brad
Hogan
Mike
Tim
Brett
Ben
Peter
Jack
After writing down a few more boys names as people made more suggestions we went around the room and people told us what names they were leaning towards.
“Hogan,” one boy said, “Ben,” another boy said. “Those are both great names,” I remarked, “two of my closest friends have those names.”
“Cindy,” a girl said. “Oh, that’s another fine name,” I exclaimed, “my mother’s name is Cindy.” The class laughed, but more at the girl than at my comment and we continued around the room. A couple days later, all the students had chosen their English names and we were off and running.
***
Recently I have been reading The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell, and have been surprised to find ideas in the book that echo things I am experiencing. During a chapter about making ideas stick with people, Gladwell discussed Sesame Street and how the show tried to utilize subtle humor to become something that adults would enjoy more while they watched it with their children.
He discusses an episode at length in which Big Bird wants to change his name because he realizes the name Big Bird isn’t actually a name, but a description of what he is, a big bird. He decides to change his name to Roy and the episode revolves around this subplot. The show’s researchers later discovered that while the humor in this joke was loved by adults, it was not understood by the target audience of the show because the kids couldn’t comprehend one character having two separate names.
About a week into teaching I had come to understand Big Bird’s frustration because while I referred to all of my students by their second name (their English name), they had inadvertently taken away my one name. All of the students had given me one name that was not actually a name, but merely a description of what I do. To the students, my name is only Teacher.
The students walk into the office to find me before class and say, “Teacher, Teacher” to get my attention. During class when a student has a question they say, “Teacher, Teacher”. When I see students in the halls they say “hello Teacher”. To the students I have been almost singularly known as Teacher, and it is a bit disheartening.
So I tried to explain to them how they should call me by my real name; like Big Bird wanted to be called Roy, I wanted to be called Bob. I told them they could call me Bob, or Mr. Bob, or Mr. Kessler, but they still insisted upon calling me Teacher.
I think the problem is that because they are still learning English, because they don’t know the language, it is easier to call me by the one word they know and associate with the people that have taught them in the past. Just as it would have been difficult for me to call them by and remember all of their Chinese and Korean names, they have some level of difficulty calling me by a name that (ironically, considering the length) is more difficult for them to remember.
On Sesame Street, the children were confused by the name Roy because they had always called him something different, and learned his name as something else. My students are confused by the name Bob because they too aren’t used to it. They (especially the older students) have had other foreigners teach English and while the names may change these teachers are always excellent because they know the language better than anybody else who walks into the school. These teachers have probably all been called Teacher.
In high school, my friends and I used to call the awful teachers by their first names because we had no respect for what they did. Whether the students call me Teacher because it is easier for them to understand or because it helps them to group me together with the other teachers they have had doesn’t matter. What matters is that them calling me Teacher reaffirms the notion that just by being here I am one of the best English teachers they have, and if that is my name this year then I guess I am probably doing a pretty good job.
*Sharky is the nickname of my best friend and three year college roommate; if you didn’t know that, thanks for reading this site, I really appreciate it considering you probably don’t personally know me.
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