I find this report more difficult than my last. Things no longer seem so new: I have developed routes and routines. However, I am occasionally still surprised and always still learning. As I outlined my report, I found it hard to neatly order ideas because everything seemed related. In this report I cannot simply give you a narrative about my life and China as I did in my last report, because I want to look deeper below the surface.
The Holiday Season
Justin taught the school about Thanksgiving the Monday beforehand. That week I quizzed my classes about Thanksgiving. They knew all about turkey, pies, and other foods, as well as the importance of family. Those are two things that American and Chinese holidays have in common: food and family. The historical information they were a little hazier on, just like American children. Thanksgiving Day Justin and I taught through half of our second class and then jumped on a bus to go with the other English teachers to Shanghai. The trip to Shanghai lasted around five hours. Both Justin and I managed to resist invitations to sing for the group on the bus ride over. The bus ride, though it started out with lots of snacking and snack-sharing, was the first time Justin and I had ever been hungry in the presence of a group of Chinese. When we arrived at the hotel shortly before nine, we wolfed down a very mediocre hotel dinner while the teachers discussed the weekend schedule. We completely forgot that it was Thanksgiving. The next day (right on time for the U.S. Thanksgiving) we somewhat wistfully remembered what we'd missed and what our families were probably doing at that moment.
In Shanghai we visited a middle/high school that is a boarding school, mostly attended by the children of Shanghai's elite businessmen. We observed an English class and it became quite clear to me just how much room I have to improve. (The English teacher was outstanding.) For fun we took a night-time boat ride on the Huang Pu Jiang (a river) and got the see Shanghai's night-time cityscape. It was quite a contrast to see the old European-style customs buildings in the old city on the West bank facing off against the third tallest building in the world and Shanghai's famed Dong Fang Ming Zhu (tower with pearl-shaped structures) in the new development area on the East bank. It is an embodiment of China's current juxtaposition of history and modernization. In both Shanghai and Nanjing older buildings are half torn down every where waiting to be turned into new skyscrapers, and even locals often lose themselves as familiar landmarks disappear.
The middle of December brought a visit from Professors Andrew Hsieh and Todd Armstrong. It was interesting to see our hosts' responses to Professor Hsieh and to watch him work the local networks. We, as part of Hsieh's in-group, were extended a great deal of courtesy and praise. Hsieh and Armstrong are much higher on the Grinnell hierarchy than we, so during their visit we were invited to some of the fanciest banquets we've seen so far. Banquets of course mean lots of good food, and lots and lots of toasts!
A few tips on Chinese banquet etiquette: Let the guest of honor or the host eat first. If you plan to drink and to accept toasts, start out slowly, because you can always increase the amount you drink later, but it is much harder, in the presence of Chinese hosts, to decrease the amount you drink. It is good manners to toast the important people at the table (like the principal), and to thank people for all their help, hospitality, etc., with toasts. If you are close enough to touch glasses during a toast, try to make the rim of your glass touch lower than the rim of their glass as a sign of respect. If you do not drink, you can always toast with your non-alcoholic beverages. As one of my personal hosts (the person placed next to me to speak English in a large group of Chinese officials) related to me, Chinese (men) will come up with 1000 reasons for you to drink (hence a large number of toasts), but if you prefer, there are always 1001 reasons for you not to drink.
Hsieh and Armstrong's visit was quickly followed by the interviews of the Nanjing candidates for a scholarship to Grinnell College next year. This was a valuable experience, but not a very enjoyable one. We didn't know what to expect until we began. We were given a list of questions to ask applicants, and there was usually enough time to ask our own questions as well. I would have liked to look at the applications before the interviews, but as it was, we quickly passed around a copy as the interview was in process. I plan to give the English teachers at NDFZ (our school) some suggestions on what they could do to prepare the NDFZ candidate next year. We met with all the hazards of committee work and interviews, including inadequate preparatory time, disagreements, compromise, and of course knowing one of the candidates personally. I expect professors on selection committees at Grinnell feel the same way.
The Monday before Christmas I gave a speech to the school introducing Christmas, and then talked to my individual classes about the American holiday. They once again knew quite a bit about Christmas trees and presents. Part of Justin and my duties as resident foreigners was to judge each class's English report on Christmas. So one day during lunch, Fang Laoshi rushed us, with note-paper in tow, to almost 30 classrooms, where we quickly looked at the reports and pictures students had drawn on one of their blackboards. For each grade we picked the four best, though we managed to avoid ranking these four. I was proud of some of the students for their creative ideas and artistic abilities, though I'm afraid that the "reports" were not quite class-wide efforts, but rather done by a few students in each class.
In honor of Christmas, the English teachers also organized a Christmas party, which was fun though somewhat frustrating. The party usually consists of a series of performances, but the teachers set it up this year as a "debate," which meant that selected students gave speeches, performed, and answered questions while judges (including Justin and me) graded them on each. We didn't really know what was expected of us until the show started and it was only about half-way through that we figured out the scoring procedure. Finally at the end (we didn't realize it was the end) we were asked what the final decision was. We had to scramble to collect the scores from the other judges and add everything up while every 30 seconds someone asked us if we had made the decision yet and the entire auditorium waited for us...
However, for the most part it was very interesting to see the students perform. They worked very hard to prepare and I'm sure they learned a lot. I am very happy that the English teachers are trying to encourage students to practice their English in new ways, outside of the rote memorization that seems to be such a large component of the Chinese education system. One concern I have is that the students most likely to participate in these activities are the students who already speak English the best, while mediocre and poor students remain on the sidelines, gaining little from the experience. Perhaps some are inspired to improve their own English. I think this is probably always a problem both inside and outside the classroom.
After we helped award prizes at the Christmas party, we were literally showered with gifts from our classes. I remember a past fellow using the word "showered" to describe the same event in his or her year: I did not think much of it. Now I really know what it means to be showered with gifts. They were almost too much to hold. After the party we went out for Christmas Eve dinner with some of the other English teachers (on the school's budget) and ate to our hearts' content. It was over this dinner that I realized that our word "spring roll" is a direct translation of the Chinese name... and they were delicious! Justin and I were also very happy to find out that we did not have to teach on Christmas day or on New Year's Day.
A few days before New Year's the school held a banquet for all three-hundred teachers of the school at a local hotel. Through over three hours of eating and talking, the teachers put on countless shows for their colleagues' entertainment. Shows ranged from spoof commercials to parody Peking opera to Karaoke singing. Even though I do not understand very much Chinese, I was highly entertained. We also got to share the event with Justin's family, who had flown into China for a couple weeks. They were even induced to go up on stage where they stole the show singing favorite family songs. The last week of class, Justin and I had joint classes where we introduced Justin's family and let the students ask questions. It was a big treat for the students and teachers to see a whole American family, especially such a large one (Justin has four younger sisters), because they usually only come into contact with foreigners as individuals or couples.
Semester's End
At the end of the semester I faced the daunting task of grading. I remember wondering occasionally in high school if teachers simply pulled grades out of a hat. I tried to be fair, but the oral emphasis of the class made grading intimidating. I had to look over the semester at the homework I'd given, but also give heavy weight to classroom participation, which is harder to keep track of and harder to measure. I was especially at a loss with the students who had done no homework and never participated in class, even when called on. I didn't want to fail anyone⦠It would be more my failure for not engaging them or not helping them to better understand my instructions. But at least this time a few students in most of my classes did not do very well. I plan to keep better tabs on classroom participation next semester and perhaps add some requirement for talking in class each day. At the very least I will do a better job of explaining my expectations at the beginning of the semester in a way my students understand. I explained everything at the beginning of last semester, but I am now painfully aware of how little some students understood. About the best advice I can give future teachers is go slowly, but don't get bogged down.
I am ending the semester with a better grasp of my role as a teacher. I also know many pitfalls to avoid, though I'm sure that next semester will be filled with the discovery of new pitfalls. I think I may try out Emily's technique of teaching focused more on skills than on topics. I am much more comfortable in the classroom and while I often worry about class, little of the terrible anxiety that accompanied my first few lessons remains. Next semester I will start with a much better idea of my students' level, what I can expect from them, and what can be accomplished. I must also echo my predecessors' regrets at having to give up all my students just as I am beginning to know them, and start fresh with 300 new students. I also feel bad for last semester's students as they had to endure all of my bumbling but will not benefit from my new wisdom (gained at their expense). Beyond my own improvement, I am sure of my students' improvement. During the semester I often wondered what affect I was having and what students would take from the semester and be able to apply to their lives and future schooling. As I look back I think that at the very least some students became accustomed to listening to me and better at understanding my instructions, while at the best other students advanced in listening comprehension as well as in forming and articulating complete ideas in English.
On a more sobering note, I would like to spend some page space on student stress. In my last report I mentioned the heavy work-load of students in China. I can now give a few examples to better illuminate the problematic situation of Chinese middle and high school academics. Students have told me that they often get only six hours of sleep a night because they have so much homework. While some Grinnell students may consider this a luxury, I doubt it is healthy over the long-term for middle and high school students. Junior and Senior III students are especially taxed because they are preparing for exams. They are often excluded from school-wide activities so they can have class. Junior and Senior III have classes on the weekends; and this "spring" vacation (spanning the month of January) when Justin and I get five weeks off, they will only get four days. They as well as their classmates in Junior and Senior I and II are constantly doing homework and preparing for exams. Since students often complain, I could shrug this off as students looking for pity and maybe less homework from a teacher, but their concerns are frequently echoed by teachers at the school. The gravity of the situation was also made undeniably clear by a few sad events that occurred a little over a month ago.
I heard rumors of a student committing suicide in Nanjing, but one afternoon the student body president came to Justin and my office obviously distressed. He told us that recently three students at other middle/high schools had committed suicide, with indications that the cause was school stress. One of the students was some one he knew. He asked us for advice about what to do to prevent students from doing the same at our school. My own experience with two suicides just before my graduation from Grinnell did not prepare me to give him guidance. Suicide is still a mysterious thing to me. What I do know is that at Grinnell the community banded together and talked about feelings, problems, and possible improvements. Interestingly, here in Nanjing none of the newspapers or TV stations reported on the suicides, perhaps because officials were afraid of copy-cat suicides (though most people seemed to know from word-of-mouth) and certainly because they were afraid of tarnishing schools' reputations.
Now as a teacher I perhaps have a better understanding of what Grinnell professors experienced. I want to protect my students, make things better for them, but I feel helpless. I did not mention the suicides in class, because I did not know how parents and other teachers would feel about it. However I wish I had acknowledged the events and offered myself as a resource. I still assign homework but I always try to make sure that my expectations are reasonable. I cannot speak for the other teachers and the rest of the Chinese education system. I think many teachers would like to make things easier for their students but the expectations for both them and their students do not allow them. Many people seem to realize that there is a problem, but while change seems like a quick and constant force in many other parts of Chinese society, reforms of the school system seem very far off.
Flexibility!
As my report up until this point reveals, flexibility is still a mantra here in Nanjing. I did not see my Senior II classes for the last two or three weeks of the semester and several of my classes did not come the last week of the semester, which made wrapping up and giving a final exam quite a challenge. Another humorous example is Justin and my Do Re Mi performance. We were informed a few months ago that we would be performing with students in the Christmas show. We shrugged and promptly forgot about it. Then in early December the date for our first practice was set and then moved back. At the practice (a Friday evening) we were informed that we would be singing "Do Re Mi" in English and Chinese, with solo parts, for the school the following Wednesday, not at the Christmas performance (though we didn't really find that out until the days before the Christmas party). Two practices later and still not quite sure what we were doing, we arrived at school early for the performance. Our classes were cancelled for the day, so we waited for the other performers to put on make up and for the show to begin. At the end of lunch we were informed that the performance was cancelled due to the rain and that we would be teaching our afternoon classes, starting five minutes later⦠After a comment from Justin about class preparation (or lack thereof), another English teacher drew this lesson from the experience: you should always have a second planâ¦
From waiting for classes to show up that never do, to missing several weeks of a class, to having new classes or events mentioned to us at the last minute, flexibility is still the name of the game. In addition, we found out two weeks before the end of the semester when our last day teaching would be as well as the date when we would be expected to return from break. Other teachers always urge Justin and me to get tickets early and make plans early (although for the train, the earliest possible time to buy tickets is a week beforehand), but I find it pretty much impossible to plan ahead since I don't know times or dates ahead of time, or even if I do, they will probably change. I know this has always been an issue for fellows in Nanjing, and probably in all Grinnell Corps programs. I'm not really complaining, just shaking my head out loud, or rather onto paper. I feel like in China, all plans should be tentative until the very last minute, and even then there should be a backup plan. My only problem is when I am asked to make plans ahead of time, especially ones that are not flexible (let's say a plane ticket) in this very fluid environment.
A Slice of Chinese Society
After living in China for over four months I begin to notice deeper societal differences that escaped me at first. These are more difficult to understand and to adjust to and I feel that for every thing I grasp there are hundreds more concepts just beyond the periphery of my understanding tickling my senses into awareness of their presence, but not yet within my reach. I will give a few examples.
The dropping temperatures in Nanjing made me aware of an obvious but at first uncomprehended cultural norm. As my layers of clothing, the number of laps I did in the office to regain feeling in my toes, and the number of times I complained about being cold all increased, I began to notice that Chinese rarely complain about the cold. They acknowledge the cold, but rarely talk about being cold. I thought perhaps they just wore more clothing or were used to the cold, but now I think it's more that they have different expectations of personal comfort, so perhaps in a way, they are more used to the cold. I come from America, where I am used to an opulent life style. Most places are heated in the winter and cooled in the summer. I am rarely cold for very long unless I choose to stay outside for long periods of time in Iowa, and then I simply go inside to warm up. I also take my coat off inside.
In China, few places are cooled or heated. I never take my coat off and I hardly ever really warm up. After an outdoor performance at the school on a cold day I decided to go home to warm up (Xi Yuan rooms are pretty well heated). I asked Fang Laoshi if she wasn't cold, and though she had about the same amount of clothing as I and freezing cold hands, she replied cheerfully -- Oh no, I'm fine. I often see my own breath while eating in restaurants, and my students' breath while I'm teaching them; and waiters' and waitresses' hands are usually red and swollen from the cold, while students wear gloves so they can write. In China, being cold is just a fact of life in the winter. It is an annoyance to be put up with. The occasional warmth found during a banquet or felt while shopping in a downtown department store (if you are wealthy enough) is just temporary reprieve preceded and followed by cold. Previous fellows warned me about the lack of climate control, but I did not realize what this meant for the Chinese lifestyle until I experienced it myself.
I also knew before coming here that China has a very long history, in some ways incomprehensibly long to Americans. (I only have a vague notion of where my great, great, great grandfathers lived, and it is nowhere near where my family lives now.) Most Chinese are very aware and proud of this history. During a discussion over tea with other English professors and Justin's family, a professor was relating that he wishes to give his unborn child both his and his wife's last names, a very uncommon practice in China. Justin's father commented that he was doing a very modern thing. The professor was quick to agree that he was modern and doing new things, but also still remembering and keeping the past alive.
The Chinese phrase "hen duo yiqian" means "a long time ago," but its literal translation is "a long way in front." The Chinese cyclical perception of history runs counter to the linear sense of history ingrained in me by my Euro-American upbringing and education. I have a feeling that this conflicting sense of time adds to gaps in understanding I have even with Chinese fluent in English. A simple illustration comes out of my attempts to make myself better understood: Because my Chinese is not good and many Chinese people's English is not very good, I often try to be very expressive with my face and gestures while speaking. This led me to unconsciously motion in front of me when I was speaking about future events and over my shoulder when talking about past events. Of course I was only confusing my listener because Chinese use exactly opposite motions to indicate future and past. So until the next time we reach this point in the future (look over your shoulder to see it coming) and I am again writing a report, please send me your questions and comments.
