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The Deep Bow And The Silent Fart: Where Does Respect
For Teachers Actually Come From?
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"When the King walks by, the servants bow deeply and fart silently."
----- Ethiopian proverb.
I'm currently teaching at a public middle-school in Busan, South Korea, and
whenever I step into the classroom with my Korean co-teacher, this is what
usually happens: Most of the students will not see me walk in. They are busy
talking with each other or throwing things at one another. The Korean teacher
will raise her voice or bang her wooden stick against the side of the teacher's
podium. That gets their attention. It takes 20 to 30 seconds for them to settle
down. Then the class leader stands up. He or she looks around, then says,
"Attention! Bow!" Then in unison the class says--- very unenthusiastically---
"Good morning teacher." I try my best to ignore this superficial display of
respect and move into my lesson.
The first thing I do is arrange the students so that they are sitting boy/girl
for every lesson. I tell my Korean co-teachers that they should be sitting this
way before I step into class so that we won't waste any time. This seating
arrangement is to get the students to behave themselves and to keep the noise
level to a minimum. Most of the time they listen. Sometimes they don't. But they
are getting better at this seating arrangement.
The second thing I do is to tell the students to take out their pen, pencil,
eraser, notebook and dictionary--- what I consider the five essentials of any
ESL class. They all have pens, pencils, and erasers. Most of the boys have
exacto knives that they use to cut up their erasers and throw the pieces at each
other. Most of the girls have cute pencil cases, mostly of animals. Furry dogs
or rabbits that can hold more than a dozen writing utensils. The first three of
the five essentials are rarely a problem. It's the last two that are.
Invariably, in most classes at least half of all students don't have an English
notebook. And this in a part of the world that invented paper!
Sometimes I will ask, "How are you?" Most of the time the response is dead
silence. So I stopped asking. Not because I don't care. I do care about a lot of
the students. But if they can't, or are unwilling to answer a simple question
like "How are you?" then it's time to move on.
I like to dictate the focus questions for the listening activity, so I must wait
for half the class to tear a piece of paper from their notebooks and give this
sloppily torn piece of paper to those who, for whatever reason known only to
them and their closest friends, don't have a notebook. It is highly unlikely
that most of these slackers will ever purchase a one dollar English notebook
with a picture of a puppy on the cover and the words, "Happiness is a warm
puppy" on it.
As for dictionaries, forget it. The Korean teachers are the walking/talking
dictionaries. One of my co-teachers walks into class with her electronic talking
dictionary. Whenever a student needs a word translated from Korean to English,
the Korean teacher will do it herself. If she doesn't know the word, she will
punch it into her little machine and presto! The machine will tell the students.
It must be nice to have students who never have to do anything for themselves.
Spoon feed your students. Treat them like babies. Never let them do anything for
themselves. And they'll goo-goo and gaa-gaa from one assignment to another, from
one test to another, from one job to another, from one doctor to another, from
one hospital to another, from their spouse to their mistress and back again.
Never understanding what in the world is wrong with them. Never knowing what can
or must be done to fix the problem. Never knowing what responsibility--- for
oneself and for others--- really means.
The real problem with this bowing stuff--- especially in the public school
system--- is that it turns the society into little more than a self-fulfilling
prophesy of social stagnation. Like Pavlov's dogs, people are turned into
lemmings, blindly following the lemming in front of them without asking why.
Students have absolutely no idea why they are bowing to their teacher except for
the fact that for hundreds of years other people before them have been doing the
same thing. Without a reason or purpose for asking why they are doing this, or
perhaps there's a better or more socially realistic way of showing respect, they
are like "Little Eichmann's" just following the orders of their superiors who
themselves may not know why they do the things they do.
Another problem with this kind of system is that, at least where I teach, nobody
fails. That's right. A whole educational system where no student ever fails a
test or exam. The students with the higher grades are guaranteed a place in one
of the city's top high-schools, while the students who received the lower grades
get to languish in one of the city's lower high-schools. Perhaps a vocational
school or, God forbid, one of those "Special schools" that are talked about only
in vague whispers. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophesy of social stagnation!
In a situation like that, nothing moves. Nothing goes forward. In a situation
like that, how will a society progress? How do we judge success? In a school
where not one student fails, then who does? And are teachers in that kind of
system really doing their job? It must be nice to pat yourself on the back and
claim a 100% success rate every single time.
So in a situation like that, everyone knows what their social roles are. No one
has to guess. No one has to communicate. No one has to negotiate. No one has to
work too hard or look too far outside their immediate surroundings or social
boundaries to see where they stand. Outside of "Good morning" and "Good evening"
and "Nice day, isn't it?" true communication becomes superfluous and information
sharing downright dangerous. No need to become overly friendly. We all know what
we have to do. We all know what our social obligations are. And so we must never
question them. Never ask why. Never seek alternatives. And always know and
accept our place in the social hierarchy.
In an educational system where not one student fails, we all do. Everyone fails.
Everyone fails because we have let everyone down. Everyone fails because not
everyone can pass, or deserves to pass. Everyone fails because we educators are
too stupid or too lazy to consider an alternative to a system that perpetuates a
self-fulling prophesy of social stagnation. Remember, people don't fail systems.
Systems fail people. And the educational system under which I'm currently
teaching is a complete and utter failure.
Now I am not here to change their system. To be quite blunt, I don't care enough
about them to think about how I would change it even if I had the chance. It is
up to the local people to change their own system if they truly want to. At my
age, life is tough enough just getting out of bed in the morning and walking to
my school. I am here to work within the system and hopefully make a positive
difference in the process. If we were here to fight and change the system, that
would make us linguistic invaders and cultural imperialists, not ESL teachers.
And we should never be linguistic invaders or cultural imperialists. To speak
for myself, I am not fighting to change their educational system whether in
Korea, Thailand, or anywhere else. I am here to take my rightful place within
their educational system. As a professional ESL instructor, I am fighting for my
rightful place "at the table."
The fact of the matter is, regardless of where we ESL instructors are in the
world, we are not seen by most of the local population as professional teachers.
This is especially true with regards to the local English teachers. Here in
Korea we native ESL teachers are constantly insulted and excoriated by media
reports that we are "unqualified, unprofessional, unprepared, not dedicated, and
sometimes downright stupid." We are told that we graduated from "sub-par
universities" and that many of us are here because we "cannot find jobs in our
own countries." The insults have been know to become very personal. Some of us,
according to media reports, have "deep emotional problems" and "issues with our
parents."
While it is commendable that many of the locals are concerned about our
emotional well-being and the issues we have with our parents, I'm not sure how
all of this concern will help our students learn the English they need to either
get into a very good university or to get the well-paid job that they seek.
Remember, all of this media criticism of foreign ESL instructors trickles down
to those very same students who need us to succeed.
While there are occasions when we ESL teachers contribute to this media smack
down by not being on our best behavior, far more often the media and local
teachers feel threatened by us. A case in point: Recently I read a story in one
of the local papers which asked the question, "Are native speakers of English
qualified to teach English?" In the article, ESL instructors were referred to as
"Native speakers" 13 times, while we were called "Western teachers" only once.
It was quite interesting the terms used by the author to frame his argument.
Are native speakers of English qualified to teach English? That depends on his
or her qualifications and experience. At the moment I have two Bachelor's
degrees, a TESOL certificate, and eight years ESL teaching experience in four
different Asian countries. Does that qualify someone to teach ESL? How about
someone with a Master's degree in Linguistics with no experience? How about
someone with a Bachelor's degree, no experience, and a TESOL certificate? How
about someone with no university degree at all, but with 60 years of living
experience and a burning desire to help people and make a positive difference?
The permutations can go on indefinitely, but who's to say who is qualified to
teach ESL and who isn't? Especially in an environment where ESL instructors are
much maligned and vilified in certain media outlets.
"Native speakers" is a very vague and nebulous term. Not all native speakers can
be teachers, but all teachers are native speakers of their own language. The
term native speakers connotes a certain amount of alienation from the society in
which the ESL instructor teaches. Native speakers are constantly on the outside
looking in. We are not a part of the system, but a part from it. It is
exclusionary and demeaning to us and the teaching occupation. We are not seen as
real teachers and therefore not a threat to the local population or the
educational system.
The terms "native teachers" or "Western teachers" is inclusive. It is inclusive
by dint of the fact that the word teachers is being used rather than simply
speakers. And because we are teachers, the alienation we sometimes feel in the
society in which we teach is lessened to a degree. We are now on the inside. A
part of the educational system, not a part from it. By being called--- or
calling ourselves--- real teachers, we are seen as a threat to the population of
local teachers and their educational system. This is why we are constantly being
criticized, excoriated, and ridiculed by certain members of the local media and
having our qualifications and dedication called into question. It continues to
happen in Thailand, in Korea, and everywhere we ESL instructors are currently
teaching.
That many members of the local media and the local teachers refuse to see us as
real teachers is one thing. To disrespect us by calling into question our
qualifications, commitment, and dedication is quite another. That must stop. We
must let them know--- teachers, students, and the media--- exactly how we feel.
We must organize, write letters to the editor, let our co-teachers know how we
feel, and tell our students about their responsibilities in class. Just as we
have responsibilities towards our hosts, our hosts have responsibilities towards
their guests. And these responsibilities--- mutual respect towards each other,
dedication to the job, and having the teachers and students coming to class
prepared--- must be spelled out very clearly and followed to the letter.
I don't care about students bowing to me when I enter the room. That is learned
behavior. And whatever is learned can be unlearned and replaced with something
more practical, like coming to class prepared to learn English by bringing your
pen and notebook; like paying attention while the teacher is speaking; by not
throwing pieces of your eraser at another student across the room; by not
punching your friend sitting beside you; and by not slapping a girl in the head
because she won't lend you a pencil. Again, I don't want to change their way of
life. Let them bow to the Korean teachers. But come to my class prepared. I
think that's fair.
I know it's not easy teaching teenagers. It's even harder being one. Korean
teenagers are no different than teenagers everywhere. The angst and all the
insecurities are there. You can poke holes through it with a chopstick. Insecure
15 year old girls looking into a little mirror to see if their hair is just
right. Insecure 15 year old boys sniffing their armpits in hopes that it's not
them who smell. All of them are insecure and hope that no one notices. Many of
them are sad and hope that no one notices. Some of them are happy and hope that
no one notices the silly grin on their face. And being 15, they're all horny.
And, of course, they hope that no one notices.
Sometimes I feel bad for them, and I don't know why. Sometimes I don't feel bad
for them, and I don't know why. I teach over 700 of these kids and see each one
only once a week. So I can't get involved. But we have an unwritten rule. You
give me your best and I'll give you mine. That's up to them. I think that's
fair.
So they walk into class at the start of a new day. Actually, they don't walk.
Teenagers don't walk. Especially Korean teenagers. They stride, stroll, saunter,
march, strut, and amble their way to their seats. Especially after lunch. The
only question that remains is how will they show respect to the native/western
teacher? Will they give me the deep bow and silent fart treatment, then go about
fooling around for the next 45 minutes? Or will they take their appropriate
seats, take out their pens, notebooks, and dictionary, and silently sit at rapt
attention awaiting the wisdom of their native/western teacher?
As a professional native English teacher, that's up to me. And I wouldn't have
it any other way.
Steve Schertzer, esl_steve@excite.com
October 1, 2006.
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