I’m not sure it’s a good thing or a bad thing; I can understand my students.
Or at least a key phrase or two.
I teach 3-8 year olds, which would have it, is actually a great place to practice or pick up elementary Mandarin phrases. But now that I can understand, especially out of context, what they’re whining about, I’m thinkin’ maybe ignorance was bliss.
For example.
Each month we have a special reading class, where we pick a book and do activities around that theme. This month was Jeremy Draws a Monster. If you may have guessed, we had the kids then draw their own monster.
Fun right? Apparently not. These kids, even at the age of three, are perfectionists. Even when drawing crayon monsters, that don’t/won’t make sense anyway.
“Wǒ bù huiiiiiiiii,” some of our students whine, “I can’t do it.”
Kid, I just handed you a tub of crayons. FULL of crayons. Aren’t you supposed to go nucking futs over this??? I know I did. Don’t tell me you can’t. I see you draw all over the desks and tables whenever you get a crayon. When you do manage to get it onto the paper, you just draw a bunch of circles, then tell me it’s a flower, or your mom, or your house. And I tell you it’s beautiful. Because, let’s face it, what’s cuter than a three-year-old drawing a picture of his mom?
Of course there’s the classic… “Where’s mom?”
“Mama ne? Mama ne?” I once hear through an entire class. Then, right after class running to his mother, “Hui jia? Hui jia? Hui jia?” (“Go home? Go home?”) Counting apples was just too darn hard.
And then there’s the bathroom situation.
“Wǒ yào qù niao-niao,” some will say, “I have to go pee-pee.” All the time. Anytime. In the middle of class. While standing in line. Always: “niao-niao.” And almost always, you let them leave right away, because you’ve seen the alternative. No one likes to hold the mop.
Or how about when you hear your own voice coming out of your students’ mouths? Must be like when, to your horror as a parent, you discover your children have grown up. Exactly like you.
I love putting on a valley girl accent, especially to make my Chinese coworker Deborah laugh (Think, “I knooooow, riiiiight??”). But unfortunately, that falls under one of America’s more obnoxious exports.
“I knoooow!” I hear echoed back to me.
I had been instructing my students to make a line. Except in our line, we had one too many boys named Jason in our line.
“Two Jasons!” said a girl named Britta (Yes, she was named after the TV show Community). I playfully responded in my valley girl banter, “Two Jasons, I know!”
Britta shot right back with my voice and tone, “I know!”
Forgive me–What have I done?
I sound like I hate my kids; couldn’t be farther from the truth.
But sometimes, ignoring their complaints and insistences would make things a whole lot easier.