I exerted a fair amount of energy the first few weeks of class comparing teaching “best practices” in the US versus what I experience in China. Do Chinese teachers make learning relevant by bringing in songs, poems, newspaper clippings, and children’s stories? Will they entertain and engage us with a variety of games? Will my instructors take advantage of the teachable moment, waxing eloquent on why our linguistic endeavors matter?
We’ve had a few songs, poems, and games in the classroom, but honestly the majority of our work consists of word repetition and reading canned dialogues from our textbooks. As you may know, the Chinese greatly value the ability to memorize. Some of our teachers expect us to read a dialogue in the book one time, close our book, and repeat the dialogue from memory. My Western-trained mind isn’t the only one in the class who finds this task rather daunting! I’ve also verged upon writing off some of the lessons as we’d say words over and over and over. And. Over. While the atmosphere in the classroom has remained positive overall, I was tempted at first to give the US learning experience a higher grade than what I encounter here. I assumed methodology, engaging lectures, and lesson planning were all that mattered.
Yet more subtle realities have emerged recently. Though the teachers provided us their personal phone numbers and email addresses the first day of class, I didn’t think much of it at first. About a month ago, however, one of our canned dialogues was about some students trying to call their teacher to ask a question. As we discussed how to request a person’s location and phone number, it became apparent that our teachers assumed that we would call them if we needed help. Apparently it’s perfectly natural here to call teachers at night with class-related or even personal needs.
In the US, student and teacher share an unspoken assumption that we should separate personal and private lives. Students are allowed to contact teachers via work email (preferred) or phone (if we must), but only during certain times and about certain topics. We would NEVER think to call a teacher on a personal number at night. In fact, I distinctly recall one lecture in college where the senior seminar professor in my department told us that he didn’t give a [expletive] about our personal lives. We were supposed to check our whining, grievances, and issues at the door, and only bring our critical thinking skills to the table. Yet don’t our backgrounds and personal lives affect our interpretative skills, we asked? Nonsense, he replied. Keep your [expletive] personal lives out of it.
Huh. Looking back, I can’t believe I listened to that [expletive]. Yet I’ve unknowingly supported this false dichotomy for years now, subconsciously teaching my own students boundaries they should not cross. I was shocked to discover my teachers here not only allow, but also expect us to call them about anything at anytime (well, maybe not at 2am, but you get the idea :).
While I visited one teacher recently during her office hours (a commonly accepted time and place for interaction), she excused herself to take a call on her cell phone. I was a little annoyed at first, until I realized the caller was a classmate of mine who was at the pharmacy. She was sick, and hoped our teacher could translate her request to the pharmacist for medicine. When the pharmacist suggested my classmate go to the hospital, our teacher freely offered to accompany her to the hospital the next day for linguistic and emotional support. Based on her tone during the conversation, I’m guessing this isn’t the first student she’s helped in such a manner.
Wow. Now I see why our lessons may not be as shiny and dazzling as I’d expect from an American classroom. Our teachers are spending their time outside of school attending to our personal needs, traversing the city with us and for us. And from discussions I’ve had with those more familiar with China, it seems that the teachers in our program reflect a common assumption of a teacher’s role here. Unlike the US, where we make a strange dichotomy between private and public lives in the educational process, Chinese teachers understand themselves to be mentors who tend to the entire student.
Praise the One Above! Seems I have even more learning to do from my Chinese teachers!