Shameless
By Kevin Smyth
I should’ve known. I did know. When I walked into the classroom and saw that E.T. had a pop, I reminded myself to deal with that. But in the second and a half it took me to reach my desk, I’d forgotten. It’s said that teachers make over 50 decisions a class, an underestimation I’m sure, most of them in the first five minutes. Anyway, E.T. would remind me again to deal with problems before they become problems. Food in class is a problem. I don’t allow it.
A couple of minutes into class, I was passionately embroiled in an explanation. I’m embarrassed to admit it. I’ll say that I was focusing on Michelle who has a bit more trouble with things, but it’s no excuse - it’s teacher’s job to have eyes in the rear of the head. Anyway, I missed the wind up and delivery. I missed the opportunity to look at him with my don’t dareful eyes. I only heard the tinny ruckus, the ungodly racket that aluminum reserves for itself.
The scene before me turned red. I’m usually pretty cool about misbehavior - I like to be tough with a smile. But when my line is crossed so outrageously, so blatently and shamelessly, so seemingly openly defiantly, I only feel my eyes physically narrowing and my scope bleeding into red. It rarely happened in Canada, but it’s happened too often to me in Korea.
When I whirled about in a fury to confront E.T. though, his face wore only the grimace of a missed basket. His eyes met mine as an appeal for sympathy over the unfortunate throw. Had they had any glint of defiance, any air of mischeiviousness, I don’t think I’d have been moved to write this article. It would have been a mundane discipline problem - almost fun in review. As it is, it is completely baffling.
I believe E.T. felt no sense of wrongful doing. That’s what I was surprised to fail to find in his eyes. I’ve seen the look before. It’s not innocence. The look is, in fact, remarkable for its unremarkableness. I saw the same face when Fredo, 14, gave me the finger and said, "puck you". It was just a little social experiment he was doing, as were the numerous occasions when younger student shafted their palmed hands up my rear. And when Antonio, 15, remorselessly grabbed my as from behind as I was lecturing, there was the same business as usual stare of disbelief at the storm coming down on him.
I know well that other teachers recognize this situation. If not on the dramatic scale that made me unable to resist anger in those cases, certainly on a lesser scale - daily. Students obliviously and loudly engaging in a conversation, as I lecture, or as a another student reads or does a drama, even with someone across the room. Or a sincere student who has only just been told not to speak in Korean and who seemed to acknowledge, turning away from the reprimand in order to say something in Korean. Coming late, writing carelessly, cheating, not being prepared. Korea tests my patience. But most bewildering is that there’s no air of defiance to it. I can handle defiance, but I struggle with this. But I think the solution begins with recognizing that. I lost my cool in those situations and reacted angrily. That happened because I felt personally insulted. I felt I was not being respected. But really, upon reflection, I know it’s not personal, nor is it necessarily a lack of respect. But then, I don’t know what this behavior is - I can’t imagine it’s acceptable in Korea to be honest. So I can’t defend it or explain it.
I do know that taking it personally is a mistake. There are a million reasons, including their confusion about how we fit into their society and how they are supposed to behave with us. But anyway, whatever it is, it’s unlikely that it’s personal. I can sense my students like me and don’t intend to make me angry. And even in the rare case where it is personal, a teacher does much better to react impersonally. Reacting is not bad. Too much patience is a vice, and if we’re upset, it’s best to be honest to our feelings and react. But our reaction must be impersonal and without anger. Only then can we solve the problem.
Solutions, I’m still experimenting with and struggling with. I’ve tried many ways, including anger, and had various success and failure. If you meet me, I’d be happy to provide more detail, but it’s not my intention here. Here I encourage controlling our reactions so that we can better try to control the difficult situations.
Mostly, it takes time for students to place us and find their respect for us. They usually like foreigners quickly, but respect, that which we must always put ahead of being liked, is slower in coming. I respect Korea for that, actually. I do believe that if we act and react respectfully, we will be treated respectfully. And the respect we seek is earned through dealing with these situations well. The solution is not as important as the manner in which we try to solve it.
I angrily kicked E.T. out of class. Despite the face, he had the nerve. He knows that, sitting there in a time out, he’s made some kind of mistake. He has the chance to dwell on what cultural barrier he might have crossed - not a bad learning situation anyway. And I gave myself time to cool off too - God knows I needed it.
Then I spoke to him. "Do you do that in your school? Huh" Do you?" It’s fine to act angrily, but it’s best done when not angry. I speak faster English when doing this. The finest teacher is known for a bad temper that is never displayed. He eyes spoke more than his less refined English, "Of course not. But how is that possibly relevant?"