Hope Springs Eternal

— or —

I Am Still a Miserable Snark

Break-out Session 4, Day 2.

This morning, I am being told that language courses should be embedded in culture. He is a teacher of Chinese, so he'll explain how he helps his student learn about the world from a Chinese perspective. Yes! Go social studies! But what happens when the perspective is wrong? The modern Chinese perspective is controlled by the Chinese Communist Party. The modern Chinese historical perspective is deeply flawed and based on so many documented fictions. Should we teach our American students that Mao was just a misunderstood man who was warped and twisted by the power that was thrust upon him by sycophants and an adoring fan base? Or should we equate him with the others leaders of genocide from the 20th century?

(An American principal just busted in with this question: What is "human geography"? Really, buddy? As my business colleague just pointed out, even if you'd never heard the phrase before, you should be able to piece something together from knowledge of the two words. It's like asking what "international business" means.)

He's saying "China" tried to do this. "China" tried to do that. I believe what he means is Mao and the CCP. And the CCP comes directly from a Stalinist model. (And Marx was German.) So if we're talking culture, we're not really talking China. (The crazy thing about the language of the CCP is that all the names for the ruling bodies... are Russian. You have a staunchly nationalist language (the Chinese have not moved to the Roman alphabet even though it would greatly improve literacy rates), but the Party is controlled by the Secretariat and the Politburo. Doesn't sound Chinese to me, or anyone else for that matter.)

But, kudos to this dude for actually getting me engaged in his talk. Although, I do find my attention wavering...

To sum up: He refers more to ancient Chinese culture, he conflates the CCP with traditional Chinese culture, but it sounds like he's building a fairly interesting series of courses to help his students learn not just a language or just history, but to really immerse themselves in a culture. And I should allow him the chance to have his students play The Believing Game before playing The Doubting Game. Kudos to him for also making me play The Believing Game.

Break-out Session Five, Day Two
I walked in a little late, but the first words I heard were "my job is to reform schools that are having problems". I've done some reading and thinking about "failing schools" and that is a major red flag. Which side of the reform debate is he on? Is he going to blame teachers? Blame the education of teachers? Blame society? Support whole-sale firing of "poorly-performing" teachers or is he going to support teaching teachers to teach better.

(Aside: my Chinese principal, seated two seats away from me, starting looking off towards the left where there was the sound of chatter. She had the look of an adult annoyed with someone who was talking over a speach. But it's just the simultaneous translator in the little booth. Then she left.)

Dude's extended metaphor is all about bridges, complete with pictures of bridges from around the world and a story about a bridge that collapsed on the New York Throughway. Extended metaphors bore me.

Wait, everything here bores me.

And now he's reading us a poem. Not a good one. Not the "What do you make? I make a difference!" poem, but some smarmy, what I do in the classroom is the most important thing. How uplifting. Can you see the sarcasm dripping off my iPad onto the floor?

Now he's hauling out 50 Instructional Strategies That Work.

I need to stop listening now because this is just like every other staff development meeting I've been in and it will quickly piss me off. Disengaging in... Three. Two. One.

While Facebooking, I heard "Bla, bla bla son is brilliant. Bla, bla, bla, daughter started a library in Africa... didn't get accepted at Harvard. Yadda, yadda, yadda, my sister is researching... Bladiddity bla, my students are super high achieving. And here's another picture of a bridge."

But my friend Aimee asks the BEST questions. The answers might be lame, but she asks professional, relevant, but pointed questions. And to be fair, the presenter at least gave an honest answer, even if it wasn't particularly helpful.

Next, lunch. Then, when everyone else heads back to the school for an afternoon of student presentations (for the visiting teachers) and tours (nothing of which has been explained in any detail to any of us, including if we have any specific responsibilitities), I will use some sick time. It's amazing how sick Beijing can make you when you want it to.

But I survived, with both eyes intact. I consider that a successful symposium.

- Do you really care this was posted using BlogPress from my iPad?

Location:World Future Education Symposium, Haidian District, Beijing, China

Kill Me Now

-or-

How to Ensure I Want to Jam a Pencil into my Eye

My school is forcing us to attend a two-day conference they have organized on the future of education. I might think it was worthwhile if I hadn't once helped organize an entire series of conferences. I know the process of selecting speakers is totally random when developing a conference on a topic you have marginal knowledge of. This event is more of a face-creating event than it is a serious study of educational change based upon years of research and study by a respected graduate institute of education.

An example: One of the speakers cancelled, so they asked one of my colleagues to fill in and speak on the future of teaching. He is 24 years old. He does not hold a teaching credential (or qualification as they would say in Britain). His undergraduate degree is in physics, he spent the last two years doing administrative work for my employer, and is only teaching this year (his first year) because my colleague got cancer and had to spend the year at home. Forgive me for being a snotty M.Ed, but really. His only experience is with our keen, rather intelligent, rich students who come from well-connected, well-educated families.

I'm just saying.

From our first keynote speech:

The five "i"s of future education
Internationalization
Informationalization
Innovationalization
Individualization
Incessancy

I won't bore you with the details; I could barely pay attention long enough to write down the key words (we have a simultaneous translator).

And the Chinese man sitting next to me has the worst breath in the world. It's like being stuck on the subway. And when he yawns? Did I mention you could kill me now?

Keynote speaker two (who is American) just said "informed citizenry". In China. 'nuf said.

Keynote número tres is none other than the principal of my own august institution. His speeches are usually disconnected affairs filled with rampant name-dropping and no small amount of bragging. Today, his PowerPoint presentation included this gem: "Schoo [sic] is a place for children to find their companions."

Keynote #4 was saying something about technology changing our brains and making us more visual and less verbal, but I'm not sure. I was too busy checking Facebook.

And then there was lunch. They said we would be a Western buffet in the restaurant, but if that was Western, then I'm a blond. But it wasn't horrible and I managed to amaze some of the visiting teachers with my "intricate" knowledge of the Chinese educational system. Aside from the Chinese teachers at our table (and I don't think they spoke English), I have been in Beijing the longest. I did my best to put a positive spin on my spiel and keep it up-beat. I was actually impressed with myself given the level of sarcasm I've been spewing out all morning.

Now I'm sitting in break-out session yi (one). The a/v in the room is dicey and I'm in the very back so I can also hear the murmur of the simultaneous translator. And, while I went into it with somewhat positive hopes for actual learning because the speaker is a cognitive psychologist from the University of Southern California, he keeps on telling us that he actually works with adults, so I find my attention wavering. Angry Birds anyone? Wait — he just mentioned Angry Birds as a teaching tool. Let me finish level 6-1... When my colleague asked the key question — What to do when parents complain that you are using games instead if teaching to the test — he had no answer.

I totally skived off break-out two. Somehow, an IB commercial or a repeat of break-out one just wasn't my cup of tea. I hear the third choice was given by a Chinese principal who began his talk by saying he didn't have enough time to prepare his speech or a PowerPoint. Furthermore, he didn't know anything about the topic. See paragraph 1.

The last break-out options of the day were led by similarly uninspiring speakers, so I grabbed friend of mine who will also not be returning to the school next year and left. I know of a cute Chinese cafe just down the road a piece, so we grabbed a cab and I gave him the nearest subway station. When I say "down the road", I mean two subway stops in a straight line, but the cabbie felt the need to put it into his GPS. Yup. The perfect end to the perfect day: the world's most moronic cab driver. He didn't even have the sense to take the 3 kuai fuel surcharge.


- Do you really care this was posted using BlogPress from my iPad?

Location:World Future Education Symposium, Haidian District, Beijing, China

You Have Four Minutes

A couple of months ago, a friend of mine was asking about appropriate attire for a polo match. Turns out, she had been speed-dating and had a first date out of the experience. That got me and my other notoriously single friend thinking.

We signed up in November, but the event was full. And the next month, we were busy. And then we went on vacation. So, there went the first half of the year.

Fast forward to when I got back to Beijing after Spring Festival. I saw that there was not one, but two (TWO!) opportunities to go speed-dating. Fairly confident that they would both be filled at such a late date, I signed up. E was still traveling, so I'd be flying solo, and solo speed-dating seemed... Daunting. Luckily for me, both events were indeed fully booked.

Friday rolled around, and I asked if the Boys were up for a pint after work. And then I got an email. There had been last minute cancellations, and suddenly there were open spots at speed-dating that evening. It was the moment of truth. Was I willing to reveal myself as the sad-sack, boyfriendless loser that I am and go?

Now, you all stepped into the breach and informed me I am not a loser, but maybe you can see my side for a moment. I hang out with a gang (past, present, likely future) that loves to take the piss. They are almost as good as piss artists as they are as, well, piss artists (aka drinkers). And being so blatant about looking for a date just screams desperation.

But, with some email support from my ladies, I signed up. As I was walking down the hall, one of the Boys asked if I was going out for beer that night because it was Paddy's birthday. "Oh," I said. "I just signed up for..." and I whispered, "speed dating."

He was walking into class to teach. Pause. As the bell rang, I heard, "Wait. What?"

Well, I got the official invite to speed-dating, so there was that. A frantic gchat with E later, and I had worked out an outfit for the evening. But, to be social, I stopped by the Local first to have a pint with the Boys. And it came out: I was going speed-dating. And I've got to give credit where credit is due: none of them gave me shit. In fact, they all wanted to know what it was like.

In an unprecedented move, I finally managed to pay for a substantial bar tab. (And by "substantial", I mean a whopping $15 for 9 people for a few hours.) Of course, I tried to give her 110 kuai for a 108 kuai bill. To show her gratitude, she brought me another pint! (They are proper 20 oz. pints, but only about 3.2% alcohol.) I was trying to leave before I'd had too much liquid courage.

I drank about half the pint before I jettisoned the bottle (by the side of the pavement on the way to the subway).

I showed up with about 20 minutes left in drinks hour, which let me chat with the two women who showed up ahead of me, go to the bathroom, and pick up my free beer (like I needed another, but it would give me something to do). And then we were directed to the seats: women to the outside seats and men to the inside.

There were 20 "couples", each with a number. We each took a seat (I sat near the two women I had met on the way in), and we started talking.

After about five minutes, the MC explained the rules: After four minutes of conversation, the MC will make a sound with the bullhorn, and the men will all move one seat to their right. We each have a score card. If two people both tick "yes", then you will receive the other person's email address. She then explained that we would begin in five minutes, so we all kept talking to the same person. Five minutes after that, she started the clock, and we officially began talking to the same person.

That first conversation was one of the most interesting, although it did center around things that annoyed us about China. Of course, the subway ranks high in the list, as does its ability to turn us into angry, rude assholes. (I'm paraphrasing here.) My "date" once hit a man in the face. What does it say about me that I found that a perfectly reasonable response?

Then the horn blew, and away he went.

I can talk to anyone for four minutes; that is not a problem. So while I'm having practically the same conversation with each man who's sitting in front of me, let me describe the scene.

This event was hosted by a group called Rotoract. I didn't think much about the name beforehand (I was focused in the speed-dating part). When I got there, I noticed the crowd was decidedly professional and Western. (There was only one Chinese man in the mix, and I think only a couple of women.) They were largely established, but which I mean somewhere mid-career, upper 20s to mid-40s, although there were a coupe of notable exceptions. Mostly, it felt like a Rotary Club turned JC. Later on I surmised that it is indeed an arm of Rotary International, but with a huge service bent (so exactly Rotary with a Junior Chamber of Commerce bent). They seem to arrange volunteer activities among the service-oriented professional crowd. If some business networking goes on as well, well hurrah.

There were also a lot of Americans in the group. Maybe it's all the Brits I hang with or maybe I live and play in the wrong neighborhoods, but I don't think I've been in a room with that many Americans since, well, America. Or maybe it's just that anything more than two Americans feels like a roomful (take whatever lesson you want from that statement).

There was only one man who was a complete dud, and man, was he a dud. He was dressed in baggy trousers and was wearing run-down trainers. His tone of voice was reminiscent of Marvin the Paranoid Android. The girl sitting next to me was genuinely torn about checking "Yes" on her score card, just because she knew no one else would.

When the event was over, I went home and waited by my email with baited breath. This was a few days before Valentine's Day, and it was my last chance for a date. When I received the email with my matches a day later, I had two matches, and one was with a man who said that he wasn't really there to date but to find cool people to hang out with. The other guy said nothing about dating. A third one emailed me directly because he wanted to build up stock footage of students from my school.

I went bowling with them a week later, and it was fun, but that was all it was. I met one guy who was in town on business for s few more days and took my email (he even stopped me from leaving before he got my deets), but he never emailed. One of my other "matches" was a closet weirdo with some pretty lame political ideas. He was far too intolerant even for my "I've been in this country too long and am getting a little frustrated" frame of mind.

Long story short: I went speed-dating, and I wasn't asked out on any second dates. I have been proven the loser I was afraid of being revealed as.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Beijing, China

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

As some of you are aware, it's been a crazy season for employment. Back in January, my current job became... untenable. So, in my last-minute/great-expense sort of way, I set about finding a new job.

My cunning plan involved a trip to Bangkok for a career fair. I had been trolling the postings for history jobs, but they were notoriously absent. Most jobs, as expected, were English. (Well, most were math and science, but that's neither here nor there.) I booked flights and a hotel at the conference venue (read: expensive) and actually found resume paper in Beijing (the Chinese are still new to the whole "applying for a job" scene). I even received an email asking me to interview with one school in particular.

And then, a few days before I left, I saw a posting. An international school in Beijing was looking was in need of a history teacher. The school was about as perfect as perfect can be, at least on paper (and we all know how that goes, but still). I wouldn't have to leave my friends, learn a new language, or leave China before I'd done and seen everything I wanted to do and see (and eat). I could stay in Beijing, but live in a Westernized part of town (but without it being in the middle of nowhere or being completely overrun with drunken ex-pats). For once, I didn't procrastinate. I immediately sent an interest letter and my resume.

And then, nothing.

No "thank you for your interest". No "thanks, but no thanks". Just. Silence.

So, I went to Bangkok. I interviewed with schools. A few were in China, some were not. A few had potential for some history, but none were straight-up social studies. So, I was playing more of the same: what would be my best bet to let me transition into a history job a few years down the line?

After some interviewing and some soul-searching, I accepted a position in Korea. There were some nice things about the school: it was on an island. A quiet, unpolluted, outdoorsy island. It followed an American curriculum. It was a real school, with real departments, and real cross-curricular collaboration. It was a new school, too. It wasn't really an international school, in the sense that the students weren't international, and it was an English job.

I got a few emails from my new school. I had some questions about the visa process, and received absolutely nothing in response. I got a list of books, which I tried to track down here. I was partially successful.

And then I got an email. From the school in Beijing.

And, although I knew it would be a big deal to back out of my contract in Korea, but I just had to talk to them. How often does someone call you up about a perfect job? I figured it couldn't hurt to talk. So I talked.

I talked to the Western administrators. I talked to the department chair. (That was a more informal interview, just to make sure that I would fit in the department.) And then I got called in for a third interview, this time with the Chinese administrator as well>

And then I got an offer.

And the real soul-searching began. Was I going to back out on my contract with Korea to accept the job in Beijing. As part of the agreement I signed with my search firm, I agreed to pay a $1500 penalty if I brokea contract. It was an expensive proposition, that's for sure. And I'd piss off the search firm and the school in Korea. But was it worth it? Would I survive another English gig? I would certainly go a better job teaching history than English, and that would mean better learning for my students.