Pining for Christmas

I've been writing for my company's newsletter recently. Here is my most recent submission:

As we approach Christmas and the weather turns cold, Westerners in Japan get homesick for family gatherings, halls decked with boughs of holly, the smell of pine needles, and—everyone’s favorite topic—holiday food. In my family, Christmas afternoon means chatting in the kitchen while snacking on fresh veggies, home-baked cookies or fudge, and celery stuffed with cream cheese and paprika. If we’re lucky my sister will prepare nacho dip with tortilla chips or spicy cream cheese with shrimp and crackers. You’ve got to be careful not to fill up on the appetizers, though: dinner is in the works.

The kids disappear into their bedrooms to play with their new toys while the adults discuss gravy recipes and cooking times, fiddle with the oven, and clatter pots and pans about the kitchen. When everything is ready, we spread our feast out on the dining table: mashed potatoes and stuffing with homemade gravy, thick slices of warm turkey or ham, fresh-baked rolls with butter, and some salad and steamed vegetables to round out the meal. Everyone has a favorite; my sister’s plate is dominated by mashed potatoes, while I take second and third helpings of stuffing and slather them with gravy. Christmas dinner is American over-indulgence at its best. It is the time of year when you are given license to eat as much as you like and not feel guilty.

After dinner we clean up the evidence of our gluttony (saving the leftovers for future meals of turkey sandwiches and enchiladas) and then, too full and tired for anything else, gather together in the living room with cups of hot coffee. We sink into the big soft couches and our bellies struggle to digest the huge meals with which they have been burdened. Our chatting fades along with our energy. My nieces cuddle up with fuzzy blankets as we find a movie on TV.

When he has waited as long as he can stand, my dad (who is ever quick to metabolize his meals) breaks into a grin and asks, “Pie?” Whether it’s homemade or store bought, marionberry, apple, cherry, or pumpkin, there is always pie—and vanilla ice cream or freshly whipped cream to top it off. We load up our plates for one last feast and eventually, as the clock ticks later and later, we bundle up in our winter coats, gather together our presents and leftovers, and slowly say our goodbyes. Every Christmas must end eventually, but there is always another ahead.

As you may have read between the lines, it’s not so much miss the taste of stuffing and gravy that I’m really pining for, but the meaning those foods carry. It’s the moments that happen between bites; it’s my niece’s head on my shoulder and my mom’s bright laughter. It’s watching my family grow and change.

I am not going to be home for the holidays this year, so I won’t have marionberry pie at my holiday table—but I will feast on memories of Christmases past. Happy holidays, everyone!

Back to the Grind

This is my first full work week this school year. While I can’t deny that spring break was wonderful (especially the part where Mom came to visit for two weeks), it’s nice to have a routine again. There’s something about having to go somewhere and do something with a certain frequency that stimulates general productivity – I feel more mentally active when I’m working. (That said, working five days a week does seem excessive; I’d be happier with four.)

I’m still settling into my teaching skin, but then again, I never expected to be this comfortable, either. If you asked me five years ago if I could see myself teaching junior high school, I would have laughed at you: Me? Stand in front of a classroom and speak with authority? As a child, I was the little girl who hid behind her mom when new people were around. I was one of only two students with non-speaking roles in my kindergarten class play. (Hopefully I at least looked cute in the tutu?) So much of my high school drama career was spent set building and working backstage that at the thespian awards ceremony held my senior year I was presented a framed “Stage Manager of the Year” certificate – despite never having technically occupied a managerial role. It continued on until college; I still remember the failure I felt after giving a (much prepared for) speech on Margaret Sanger, and the teacher’s comments that confirmed my poor performance. Public speaking and Angie never got along well.

Nonetheless, here I am in the strange world of private girls’ schools in Japan, standing in front of classrooms full of students for four or five hours every day, and I’m enjoying it more than ever. This will be very likely become my last year here*, and I’m determined to make it the best one yet.

Though the term is only barely off the ground, already I can feel that my classes are smoother than last year. I started two and a half years ago as an assistant (which often meant being a repeat-after-me-bot) and progressed, one year ago, into a full-fledged test-writing discipline-giving teacher – without ever acquiring any kind of credentials. Both companies I’ve worked with have given brief training sessions, but as dispatch companies sending me out into the schools there was a severe limit to the amount of guidance they were able to provide. My schools have been so hands off as to frequently forget to give me class schedules; they basically gave me textbooks and said, “Go!”

The last year has been a battle, but a fruitful one – I’ve learned what makes an effective lesson, how to approach my students and what to expect from them, how to write a good test. Lesson planning takes much less time than it used to and my chalkboard handwriting has significantly improved. (Writing on chalkboards is much more difficult than I’d expected. Have you tried it recently?)

The more I learn, the more I like my job.

Today’s first period class is a good example.

(Background: I’m teaching seventh grade “returnees” – students who have lived abroad – four periods a week. I had the same students last year, which was their first year of junior high. It’s quite challenging to design a curriculum that accommodates their varying English levels, and even harder to keep these energetic thirteen-year-olds from chattering incessantly in Japanese. Since last year was my first year teaching, I relied heavily on the textbook and filled out the term with speeches, newspaper articles, and a few other projects. At the end of the term I asked for their opinions, and a few students mentioned that in their overseas classes they did more reading. I slapped myself on the forehead and went searching for books at the appropriate level.)

Today I broke my returnee class into two groups to read The Wizard of Oz. Both groups worked at the same fast pace, finishing two chapters and answering the corresponding reading comprehension questions in about thirty-five minutes. I was surprised at how quickly they digested the material, and it was really good to see them helping each other out with pronunciation and even intonation.

It seems that keeping their mouths busy reading is the solution I've been looking for to stop the chattiness and keep them focused on English. Not only that, but I think it's worthy of a good chunk of class time. After all, reading was the method by which I absorbed English; I’d never heard of “be verbs” before becoming a teacher. Of course we will continue to do grammar exercises, presentations, writing assignments, and speaking and listening activities – but at this point I’m looking at devoting about a third of my curriculum to reading comprehension, and I’m really excited about it.

These returnee girls are at this school because their parents were afraid that after returning to Japan their English skills would wither and decay. On the contrary, they’re improving. It’s especially visible with the lower level girls; their journal entries have improved, they’ve acquired more vocabulary, and – most importantly – they speak English with more confidence and fluency. I can’t express how good it feels to be a part of that.

If it wasn't hard, it wouldn't be this satisfying.



*That is to say, the plan is to leave Japan next year, but the U.S. economy is so bad right now – Oregon’s unemployment rate is up to 12% – that it seems unwise to leave behind a perfectly good job with nothing on the horizon. It’s time to do some serious thinking about what I want to do at home. Teaching junior high is rewarding, but it’s not my calling.

Teaching & The Upcoming School Year

Last time I wrote i was planning to move back to Portland this summer. For a number of reasons -- economic, personal, logistic, and career-related -- I've decided to stay another year.

This is how my job will change at the start of the new school year (in April):

• Consecutive Days Off: Since one of my schools requires me to work Saturdays, I get a weekday off instead (and Sundays). I was offered Mondays for the current school year, but since there were so many national holidays on Mondays this year I didn't take it -- I'd have ended up with less time off than everyone else, and it seemed like a good idea to break the work week up by taking Wednesdays instead. It's worked out pretty well, but the one day weekend thing can be frustrating sometimes -- I often don't feel like I've caught up on my rest before going back to work. This time around, I requested Mondays.
• Fridays in the Office: Currently on Fridays I teach English Conversation to poorly behaved (bordering on out-of-control) seventh graders in the middle of nowhere. This will be replaced with a day in my company's office, where I will be part of the creative team that is putting together a system of English Conversation class materials. I talked with the coordinator for over an hour, and his enthusiasm -- for both the project as its own entity and it's potential contribution to revolutionizing the way English language education is done in Japan -- was inspiring and motivating. I'm really excited about this addition to my work tasks. I like making things, I like editing, I'm excited about education -- and I get to work with other people who will have new ideas and perspectives. The more I type the more overly optimistic this sounds, but even so this is definitely a majorly positive change in my routine. The worst day of my week is being replaced by a new challenge that is much better suited to my personality and interests.
  
• Make New Friends, and Keep the Old: At my main school I'll be moving up a grade with my most of my students (from seventh to eighth grade). This means I can't wash away our first impressions; I can't re-invent myself as a strict disciplinarian or someone with neat chalkboard handwriting, but it also means not having to say goodbye. We can relax with each other and continue to build on the framework we've developed. At my other school, however, I won't move up a grade -- I'll continue to teach seventh grade English conversation. I'm pretty happy about this, because I can reuse and fine-tune my lesson plans from this school year, building on the experience I've gained so far.
• Compressed Teaching Hours: I'll be teaching nearly the same number of teaching hours I have now, but in four days instead of five; my main school is increasing me from 11 to 14 teaching hours. This will mean busier days, but having settled into a routine there and gradually developed more effective methods of planning and time management, I don't expect it to be much of a burden. Two of the classes being added to my schedule are the same as three I'm already teaching, meaning I won't have to do any extra planning for those.
• More Work Days: Right now when my schools don't have classes for whatever reason (school events, testing, etc.), I often (but not always) get an extra day off. In the future I'll be required in the office these days. However, this shouldn't encroach on my vacation periods unreasonably -- my boss seems accommodating on that front, and I'm still guaranteed a lengthy summer vacation. Ah, the life of a teacher.
• Pay Raise: Because my overall work load is increasing, I'm getting a raise -- 8%. Not too shabby, eh?

So I'll be working a little more, but my work is changing such that I expect to gain a stronger sense of accomplishment from it. The longer I teach, the more comfortable I am with it, the more ideas and techniques I gain, and the more satisfying it is. It's not all sunshine and roses, though. Teaching is an emotional roller coaster. Some days I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing -- to the point that I actually pity my students for having me as a teacher. Sometimes I can't maintain order. And sometimes I just don't have enough energy to put on a good class. Other days my classes flow perfectly and I feel so exhilarated that I get an endorphin rush. A lot of days fall somewhere in the middle. I don't know if it this will turn into a long-term career for me, but I'm at least no longer ruling it out as a possibility.