Teaching at Parallel University Continued
I quickly learned, while teaching at Parallel U in Phnom Penh, never to give a homework assignment that involved any type of hard information because it would simply be lifted in its entirety from the net, including references to pages or graphs that weren’t included in the copied text. If it was to be worth anything it had to come directly from their heads.
When we came to a section on gender issues I asked them about their attitude towards their future partners. I asked the boys if they wanted a ‘traditional’ wife; the girls if they wanted equality in a relationship. You have no doubt, without me saying another word, where most of the responses came in. Eighty percent of the boys wanted a beautiful wife who was good at cooking, cleaning and making babies. One went so far as to want one who would dress him in the morning and undress him at night. The girls, also needless to say, longed for some level of equality, but were, however, quite practical about the chances of that actually happening and resigned to accepting something much less. At any rate, there was no way to copy any of that from the internet.
I also learned pretty early about the dangers of including vocabulary questions in a test. It was a big class in a big classroom and I hadn’t yet gotten accustomed to a serious level of vigilance. One student had surreptitiously gotten the answers from a small dictionary, spread the good news and lo and behold, nearly half the class got a perfect score on the 20 vocab definitions. Knowing their level of competence, that was inconceivable. One student? Maybe. Twenty? Almost beyond statistical possibility: In the one-in-a-trillion range. I gave all the perfect scores a big zero.
Two different factors ended my time at Parallel. The first was a ridiculous scheduling system. Night classes had different starting and ending dates than day classes. First year students began and finished their classes on different dates than second year students. And the two campuses also didn’t coincide. This had one minor fault in that you only had time off at holidays… when every place you might want to go to get out of town was jammed with people; and therefore not much of a getaway. For me their wacky scheduling also had a major shortcoming since I need to make a trek to the US every year and there is, in this type of system, no good time to leave. I’d wind up with short hours for several weeks before I left and upon my return.
The other problem was the institution of a dress code. Many schools labor under the misconception that students are more suitably impressed by teachers wearing ties. I have totally debunked that idea as you will soon see. My thing with ties goes back a long way. More to the point, I should say, my feeling of repellence at wearing ties is longstanding and nearly immutable.
The last time I wore a tie with any regularity was back in 1961. Or was it ’67? Can?t quite remember; a bit like ancient history. Under any circumstances, in terms of a lifetime, ages ago. It was a time of tight collars and loads of coffee and I developed a decided nervous tic in my neck and shoulders. I felt like I was choking. Once that was fully realized, my relationship with ties was permanently sundered. I couldn’t even wear a turtleneck for decades after that for the feeling they evoked of being strangled by having something tight around my neck.
Digression: The origins of the necktie. The following could be a myth: I can?t guarantee its veracity, but it sounds perfectly plausible to me. An English monarch, way back when, decided he needed an easy means of getting hold of his subjects so he ordered all the men to wear ties so his enforcers could quickly grab and subdue them. You know, a ready-made noose. What could be more appropriate to the essence of tieness today; tied into the system where you can be easily yanked into submission.
Even when I ran for political office (as a Green) or went to events where every other man was noosed, I never wore a tie… with one categorical exception. I have worn ties a handful of times in the last 40 years or so, when singing in choirs. I really couldn?t be the only man on stage without a tie. I would wait till the last moment to put it on. This led to one majorly embarrassing incident when I had spaced out, not gotten it on beforehand, and then scrambled to get it tied up on stage in front of hundreds of people.
So I said bye, bye to Parallel and found a tieless ESL school that was recommended by several friends who had worked there. It was well organized (relatively), an easy walk, used an American style book I’m comfortable with and paid well. In the beginning the manager liked me and always got me the hours I wanted. But then he got booted and about the same time they instituted a student-based teacher evaluation system.
They also allow students at the 5:30 hour to choose which teacher they want to have. Every other time of the day there are only enough students for one class each – so obviously there’s no choice in the matter – but at 5:30 there are at least two. Some teachers don’t like the idea of students picking their teachers but I can understand the school’s attitude – if it makes them happy, why not?
Sometimes they would abandon the other teacher and flock to my class, more often the opposite. While nobody likes to teach a large class – and they can get way too big at this school – you also don?t want to be the one they flee in droves, else you get consternating looks from the management. It was especially difficult when my ‘competition’ was a handsome, ebullient young man who put a lot of effort into his role and really knew what he was doing: it was quite embarrassing to have 17 students while he had 55.
The other problem I’ve encountered is the evaluation thing. Some teachers are totally opposed to the concept of being evaluated by students but I figure they’ve had a lot of different teachers by the time they’ve come to me, so they know what they like. Problem is, if they don’t like you they give you bad scores on everything, even when you don’t deserve it; like saying I don’t hand homework back in time when I do that almost religiously.
Even when I feel sure they like me and when they achieve good grades – they have a standardized final test so you can judge – they score me a little below average or just barely above. They do have one question on the evaluation I always do well on. Even when the student hates me he/she gives me a high rating on ‘My teacher dresses professionally’.
In fact, this school instituted a tie requirement a year after I started there. I went to Madam, the boss lady, and said I can’t wear ties. She asked why and I made a choking gesture as a very graphic illustration. As a result, I became the only one who didn’t have to wear a tie. (I’m a grandfather, so maybe that’s why I was grandfathered in.) Actually, the other guys probably don’t care all that much.
At any rate, in spite of my tieless state, that question has carried me over the top on my evaluations. Now they’ve allowed other guys to shuck their ‘ready-made nooses’, so I seem to have broken their resistance.
A lot of men have a nearly morbid fear of being colorful, flashy, stylish; if it isn’t the dullest plaid, they can’t bring themselves to wear it. I can’t be bold in an everyday way, but can break out of the mold when I decide to. I do like to look good, and a good thing, otherwise I might have lost my preferred job.
So I’ve had to scrap for my hours. This time upon returning from the states they had no work for me, in spite of giving them plenty of email notice and three years history there. What a way to treat a loyal employee. I may be mediocre, but I?m not bad. Kind of shocking to me, but some students think I’m a great teacher.
I really don’t want to change schools now; don’t want to have to learn anything new to teach. I’m perfectly happy to teach the same thing ad nauseum. It takes me two or three terms just to scrape together a few teaching aids, so I improve with repetition.
It was therefore quite perturbing to be left out in the proverbial cold looking for a job. Ah, but wouldn’t you know it, one of their teachers was a no show for first day of class, so why not call Stan. It’s not the class I’ve taught 7 or 8 times, but what the hell.
And so I’m a teacher. Fortunately, starting three years ago when I began to collect my Social Security, I haven’t had to do a lot of it. (At this point in my life, I’m really not interested in doing a lot of any kind of work.) Two hours a day of teaching on top of my pension (about $500) is plenty to afford a comfortable lifestyle – by my standards anyway – and the wherewithal to go out nearly every night for fun and games. Also, though ties aren’t included, I do have a reason to get dressed up five times a week and have some discipline and order to my life. It also sets back the time I start imbibing and indulging – I almost never drink or smoke before class – so giving my body a bit of a respite from all those good times.
All in all, teaching is, or can be, a perfectly good and respectable endeavor. In my case, at my age, affording far more respect than what I could expect from any job I’d be likely to get back in the states. In essence, it’s a privileged position in society.
Success involves connecting with the students even more than bulk knowledge; though you obviously need to have some idea of what you’re doing or the motivation to try to learn it… else you join the flounder brigade and face the boot. There are always some students who are not shy about giving you pointers and general advice, so if they like you and you are willing to put a minimum of energy into the work, you can be a teacher just like me.
Stan Kahn
