This last Wednesday, when I had my fifth graders, I was teaching the boring section of storytime. All four parts of it all coalesced into one 40-minute class period. It’s rather boring and the coteacher wasn’t sure how it would go as this is her first year teaching English. I was given the task of teaching the class as the main teacher and she walked around the classroom and disciplined if needed and translated, but it was fairly straightforward. I just felt bad because I knew it was a boring lesson and I’m sure they did as well.
As I’m sure I’ve mentioned, the 5-1 class is my worst class. No, there are some pretty good students in there, but the trouble kids are in there too and sure, they give me a hard time, but I expect it. No, they also give the coteacher a hard time and that’s saying something. Within the past two weeks, they’ve gotten better to handle and more of them listen to me, but they’re still the worst. I like them out of class, but when they’re supposed to listen to me, it’s always a step away from being a complete nightmare. The good thing was that the class largely read the story with me, even the one kid from taekwondo who took to quizzing me on Korean vocabulary, which I welcome… out of class. However, ten minutes into class, there was a commotion and my coteacher was heavily berating one student; he makes up one of the trouble students in addition to the taekwondo one. My coteacher apologised to me first for interrupting and then to everyone (including me) because we would not be playing a game. Then she spent the next ten minutes scolding the kid in front of the class and I took to taking a seat to wait it out.
As usual, they were a little less rowdy after class resumed, but they could tell I was a little less enthusiastic; I like game time because usually when they’re having fun, it means I’m having fun too. In that class, there’s this one boy who everyone targets. He’s a little chubby kid but he acts younger than them, always complaining and whining and crying and he has this gas problem. I treat him like I treat my younger students, but everyone in his class teases him, punches him, kicks him, blames things on him… Well, it turns out that boy knew that everyone stayed away from him – he apparently has a version of the ‘cooties’ that applies to all genders – so the boy had written on his desk that the “cootie boy” sat there. He wanted to see the reaction of other students who sat there; would they change desks, reject it, do nothing? My coteacher saw it and then it commenced. I don’t blame her and I totally understand and I also condone it (probably would have done the same if they understood English), carrying a class by yourself, especially when you have to make sure you speak clearly and slowly and loudly really takes a toll on your vocal cords, so a part of me welcomed the break, but I wanted the game – I’m sure we all did.
At the end of class, we all bid farewell and I saw some students lingering. Of note were some girls. Then they came up to me. It turns out that she was drawing a picture of me and it was really cute. ❤
Except for how she forgot my left arm.
I pointed it out and she got completely apologetic telling me she didn’t even notice and she thought she had drawn it and it went on. She quickly sketched one before she left, but that… that made me feel a little better. haha. On the other hand, she was drawing in my class? I’ll just take it as her time management during the 10 minutes of let’s-listen-to-the-teacher-scold-our-classmate.
Sure, my students have drawn pictures of me before, but usually on the board or table so it had to be erased. This time, though, it’s on a piece of paper. lol…