Testing Times.

It is that time again. The backstraight of a term in which the students take their "level up tests" which shall determine whether they remain in their current class or move onto a higher plane of English.
It would be nice to think that whether a student makes the cut is based purely on merit, but of course it is not. If a lazy, disruptive little rodent of a child has failed several times previously the school will level them up anyway in order to keep their parents' paying the fees.

This is the by-product of a quirk of Korean culture. I say culture, but really it is just stupidity and misplaced pride. The saving face culture is fairly common in South East Asian nations and no more so than here, where a parent would rather their child earnt meaningless A grades and yet learnt nothing than faced constructive criticism and received genuine hard earnt B grades.

For example I have to give an A+ for homework that is 100% completed even if every question is wrong. Suits me fine, as it means I don't have to check any of the answers or actually do my job.

So we enter the level up tests and understandably the children loathe them. A droning 35 minute MP3 plays out tedious conversations that they must answer questions on to prove their listening skills. There are then reading tests, speaking tests and writing tests. All packed back to back in an avalanche of misery and boredom.

But not misery and boredom for me. I drink tea and read articles about Britain's fattest man on Wikipedia. Whilst my students screw their faces in concentration and apply themselves dilligently to the task at hand, I have just learnt about a monstrously large man from the 18th Century who was best friends with a Polish midget.

This is what I dreamed teaching would be like. And I get a stop watch to hang around my neck so I can pretend briefly that I have the hand to eye coordination to make the cut as a PE teacher.

Level Up is good to me. I settle down to sip my tea and peruse as many puerile Wikipedia links as possible when some of the test conversations somehow force their way into my conciousness. Read out in the most whining American accent imaginable these rambling conversations somehow become essential listening.

It dawns on me that the characters created in these audio exams are so irritating and odious that if they were real I would have to track them down and bludgeon them to death with a lead pipe.

The MP3 booms out "Question 42, listen to the conversation and answer the question".

The conversation unfolds where a boy named Mike eagerly tells his female friend at school that he has great news. His older brother Matt has moved out from home and now Mike will get his big brothers bedroom which is far larger and has a great view.

I don't mind Mike, he seems a reasonable chap as these conversations go. But his friend Sarah replies:

"That's good news? Really? I seem to remember that Matt was very messy. I don't even know how you put up with him for so long. You think it is good to have his room? I don't think so, you are going to have to tidy the awful mess that he no doubt left behind. I don't envy you at all."

The narrator on the MP3 intones: "Question: Why does Sarah think Matt leaving is not good news?"

I almost leap from seat and scream "Because she's a lazy, miserable bitch."

Fuck you Sarah with your snidy sarcasm. And don't assume that Matt left the room a mess, he was moving out and probably took all his things with him, you whining Mary Poppins wannabe.

I looked around the room, and was startled to see my own rage wasn't shared. The kids were just writing away, oblivious to how much I wanted to reach into the speaker and throttle "Sarah".

It is foolish of me to get so animated during the one week in which I can afford to do nothing. Next week I will be back to teaching, back to trying to engage with the children and nourish their minds with knowledge. But I am not the best at being cheerful and chirpy, something that might not have been lost on you.

I need tips. I need to listen to other teachers talking about their lessons, and garner useful ideas and techniques.
I listen to two such characters on a subway journey downtown. I've never seen these two westerners before but they're teachers and they're discussing cutting edge techniques for the first day of class.

I should take some notes as it is only a few weeks away before I start first day classes all over again.

Teacher 1: "So what did you do for the first day last time around?"

Teacher 2: "I did a great little thing where each kid has to ask the one sat next to them what their name is, how old they are and then what they want to be when they grow up. Then they introduce each other to the class."

Well, well looks like I might be in the presence of genius. Teacher 1 certainly seems to think so...

Teacher 1: "Oh yeah that is excellent, really interesting idea I should do that one next time around."

Teacher 2: "Definitely, it's interesting and a lot of fun for the kids."

Yes it sounds like a right barrel of laughs. I am sure it is interesting and fun for the kids, provided that the kids' idea of what is fun and interesting is watching paint dry.

Grey paint that is. Slow drying, grey paint, that has been painted onto a featureless wall during a particularly drab and overcast day.

I take a swig from my open bottle of Soju and shake my head. Those two are a disgrace to teaching.