What teaching teaches me

This comes at the end of my second month in South Korea.

In my last longer piece I talked about a few snapshots in my daily life as a teacher in Jeonju, S. Korea.

I discussed taxi-drivers, surface level observations, and my interactions with other foreigners from all over the world.

This time I’ll try to describe my initial impressions as a teacher.

That said, I realize my observations come after a mere two months on the job and are in no way complete. Still, here goes.

First, a rundown of my job:

I teach four classes. In the morning I teach ten kindergartners, boys and girls, age 7.

In the afternoon it’s elementary and middle school children.

I have one class of four 9-year-old boys, one of five 10-and 11-year-old boys and girls, and one of eight 11 to 13-year-olds, all boys except for one.

The students are good—for the most part. Of course there’s always a clown. Or a nerd. Or a donkey.

I don’t necessarily think of any particular child in this sense. But these are traditional societal roles and they have to be filled—even at age 7.

When I started working with the children, one of the first observations I made I passed on to a fellow teacher who has been doing this for going on three years.

“Being a teacher really makes it hard to argue against evolution,” I said. “The case is made for natural selection almost constantly.”

“Or made against it,” he replied. “You wonder how some of these kids have made it this far in life.”

From a social science perspective, it’s difficult to determine, to pinpoint, what is more important for a child’s success in school—her genetics or the guidance she receives from her parents.

Inside the classroom, however, and I’ve spoken with other teachers about this and we agree, the most important and beneficial trait a child can possess is a good attitude.

Natural intelligence factors in, as does parental pressure and emphasis on work and discipline. But when it comes to the classroom and what a child gets out of their time sitting in front of teachers, a willingness to learn and a good attitude about school make a significant difference.

(Yes, I realize what my high school teachers are thinking when they’re reading this—that they can think of a pretty good example of someone with potential but a misplaced attitude toward education. His mug shot’s looking right at you.)

My job teaches me so much about myself. I have some students that I can tell devoutly despise school. They don’t like being there even though they’re completely capable of doing the work.

I see myself in that. I had many school days—practically every day after the start of the fifth grade—where I thought to myself there was something I’d rather be doing.

Recognizing the same sentiment in my students helps. I don’t pander to that behavior just because it’s familiar, but when I do see it I avoid becoming frustrated or taking it personally.

Which in turn lessens the pressure on the student and, though I still maintain behavior standards, I have gotten good responses.

I know. It sucks sometimes. Just do it right and do it now and you’ll be better off.

I see myself in those students.

I see myself in all my students. As a child going through kindergarten, as a young student who knew a lot of the answers and always raised his hand, as a good student until being a good student became less important than being cool.

It’s one of the most rewarding things about this job. I love my students. Some more than others, but even those I love less I learn from.

Like them, I’m learning every day.