First, I'd like to wish my brother, David, a happy belated birthday. Well it's belated for you reading this, but I sent him an email still on the exact date. So, don't you worry, dear readers, I'm not a complete failure of a brother.
Anyway, I think it's been about 3 weeks since my last post. By now, any apologies would simply be a formality, and I think the internet is no place for formality. So, tough cookies, everyone. As much as I enjoy these posts, I find them harder and harder to write. I would say part of the difficulty is that a few people have expressed their enjoyment in reading my writing. Ah, the pressure of celebrity.
Now, you may not believe what I will say next, but stay with me and it'll all make sense.
We have been spelling Shakespeare's name wrong for centuries. He spells it "Shakespare." I should know because he's a student in class 12, grade 7 at Shijiazhuang Foreign Language School. Now, I know what you're thinking: "The kid is just taking a name that he read and forgot how to spell." It's a logical conclusion, but I think you're wrong, dear reader, dead wrong. This "Shakespeare" guy is famous for creating heaps of new English words, brand new words with new spellings and new meanings. Who could be better at doing that than a Chinese boy whose grasp of English is rudimentary at best. "What about the depth of character and range of influences exhibited in the plays?" you say. Easy. The kid reads comic books. Witches, changelings, and lots of fighting? Comic books. Dialogue coupled with visual action? Comic. Books. "But Shakespeare died hundreds of years ago," you ask with a smug look of victory. Yeah, I said your face is smug, deal with it. The whole death thing is a bit tricky. No, I'm not going to say "comic books," that would just be ridiculous. How can comic books keep someone alive for centuries? The real reason for his enviable longevity is tea. Lots and lots of tea. They're nuts for the stuff over here. You've heard all about the antioxidants and polyphenols and superawesomecancerfacepunchingphenols. That's how. So, forget everything you learned in school, "Shakespeare" is a 12 year old Chinese boy who actually spells his name "Shakespare."
This week, my lesson has been on disabilities. It wasn't my idea, but that of Erin, my fellow teacher and friend. She had gotten the idea a few weeks ago and put together a nice powerpoint to keep the little barbarians distracted while we try to teach them. I say "try" because I am growing ever more suspicious of exactly how much I have contributed to the students' understanding of English. Erin was kind enough to share her lesson with me and this week has been one of the best weeks of teaching I've had for a long while. I teach the kids the words "blind," "deaf," and "paralysis." I understand that paralysis isn't exactly the most common word on the street, but it opens up a lot of activities for the kids to do. When I teach them the word "blind," I choose two kids to walk back to their seats from the front of the class with their eyes closed. When I teach them the word "deaf," I have one student tell another student an English word, but the listener (we'll use that word damn loosely) has to plug his or her ears.
The "paralysis" part is my favorite. I have one student come to the front and tell them to pick up a pen from the teacher's desk. It's simple enough when they can use their hands. Then, I ask the same student to do it, but I say their hands don't work. This is a bit tricky, but most of them try to use their elbows or their forearms. Next, I will ask another kid to come up and do the smae thing, except now their arms are paralyzed. Most students try to use their chin, their shoulder, or even their upper lip and nose (on damn rare occasions, the student will use their mouth, but most don't because they think my pen is dirty, the insult!). There was one girl who had a bit of difficulty with the last bit. I will do my best to recreate the dialogue.
Student: I can't do it.
Miner: Of course you can.
Student: I can't.
Miner: But, I need your help.
Student: But, my arms don't work, and yours do. You shouldn't ask for help when you can do it yourself.
Miner: (surprised by the poignancy of the student's point) Hahahaha. Fine. (sits down on floor and pretends that his arms and legs are paralyzed) Help me! Give me the pen. It makes me happy!
Student: (unsure of what to do and embarrassed by the attention focused on her, moves to where Miner is and crouches down, her arms hanging limply at her sides) Help us! Help us!
I lost it and told the girl to go back to her seat. I think that will be one of my favorite teaching moments ever.
Well, that's all for now, but I will try to give you another update before another 3 weeks lapse. Have a good end of the week, everyone!
P.S. - I have used the word "damn" a few times. I am taking the advice of a Mr. Twain, who said "Substitute 'damn' every time you’re inclined to write 'very;' your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be." The reason I am trying to avoid the word "very" is because my father will give me hell for it if he sees it. I'm not sure why the two men share the same taste in writing, or even if it's sound advice, but I prefer to do without the paternal disappointment.
Anyway, I think it's been about 3 weeks since my last post. By now, any apologies would simply be a formality, and I think the internet is no place for formality. So, tough cookies, everyone. As much as I enjoy these posts, I find them harder and harder to write. I would say part of the difficulty is that a few people have expressed their enjoyment in reading my writing. Ah, the pressure of celebrity.
Now, you may not believe what I will say next, but stay with me and it'll all make sense.
We have been spelling Shakespeare's name wrong for centuries. He spells it "Shakespare." I should know because he's a student in class 12, grade 7 at Shijiazhuang Foreign Language School. Now, I know what you're thinking: "The kid is just taking a name that he read and forgot how to spell." It's a logical conclusion, but I think you're wrong, dear reader, dead wrong. This "Shakespeare" guy is famous for creating heaps of new English words, brand new words with new spellings and new meanings. Who could be better at doing that than a Chinese boy whose grasp of English is rudimentary at best. "What about the depth of character and range of influences exhibited in the plays?" you say. Easy. The kid reads comic books. Witches, changelings, and lots of fighting? Comic books. Dialogue coupled with visual action? Comic. Books. "But Shakespeare died hundreds of years ago," you ask with a smug look of victory. Yeah, I said your face is smug, deal with it. The whole death thing is a bit tricky. No, I'm not going to say "comic books," that would just be ridiculous. How can comic books keep someone alive for centuries? The real reason for his enviable longevity is tea. Lots and lots of tea. They're nuts for the stuff over here. You've heard all about the antioxidants and polyphenols and superawesomecancerfacepunchingphenols. That's how. So, forget everything you learned in school, "Shakespeare" is a 12 year old Chinese boy who actually spells his name "Shakespare."
This week, my lesson has been on disabilities. It wasn't my idea, but that of Erin, my fellow teacher and friend. She had gotten the idea a few weeks ago and put together a nice powerpoint to keep the little barbarians distracted while we try to teach them. I say "try" because I am growing ever more suspicious of exactly how much I have contributed to the students' understanding of English. Erin was kind enough to share her lesson with me and this week has been one of the best weeks of teaching I've had for a long while. I teach the kids the words "blind," "deaf," and "paralysis." I understand that paralysis isn't exactly the most common word on the street, but it opens up a lot of activities for the kids to do. When I teach them the word "blind," I choose two kids to walk back to their seats from the front of the class with their eyes closed. When I teach them the word "deaf," I have one student tell another student an English word, but the listener (we'll use that word damn loosely) has to plug his or her ears.
The "paralysis" part is my favorite. I have one student come to the front and tell them to pick up a pen from the teacher's desk. It's simple enough when they can use their hands. Then, I ask the same student to do it, but I say their hands don't work. This is a bit tricky, but most of them try to use their elbows or their forearms. Next, I will ask another kid to come up and do the smae thing, except now their arms are paralyzed. Most students try to use their chin, their shoulder, or even their upper lip and nose (on damn rare occasions, the student will use their mouth, but most don't because they think my pen is dirty, the insult!). There was one girl who had a bit of difficulty with the last bit. I will do my best to recreate the dialogue.
Student: I can't do it.
Miner: Of course you can.
Student: I can't.
Miner: But, I need your help.
Student: But, my arms don't work, and yours do. You shouldn't ask for help when you can do it yourself.
Miner: (surprised by the poignancy of the student's point) Hahahaha. Fine. (sits down on floor and pretends that his arms and legs are paralyzed) Help me! Give me the pen. It makes me happy!
Student: (unsure of what to do and embarrassed by the attention focused on her, moves to where Miner is and crouches down, her arms hanging limply at her sides) Help us! Help us!
I lost it and told the girl to go back to her seat. I think that will be one of my favorite teaching moments ever.
Well, that's all for now, but I will try to give you another update before another 3 weeks lapse. Have a good end of the week, everyone!
P.S. - I have used the word "damn" a few times. I am taking the advice of a Mr. Twain, who said "Substitute 'damn' every time you’re inclined to write 'very;' your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be." The reason I am trying to avoid the word "very" is because my father will give me hell for it if he sees it. I'm not sure why the two men share the same taste in writing, or even if it's sound advice, but I prefer to do without the paternal disappointment.