As You Are Now

Howdy, all!

While it feels like the year only just started, it's September and I've been in Thailand for nearly six months already (!!!).

Since my last newsletter, there's been some growing pains as I navigate teaching English to my 340 Thai students. (Yes, you read that right -- there's 340 of them!) Though I have 15 years of teaching experience under my belt, every day my Thai students somehow manage to surprise and delight me in new and unexpected ways. It's unlike any other teaching experience I've ever had, in fact, and I am most definitely Not Bored in my day job.

Though I enjoy all of my classes and the majority of the students, there is one class in particular I want to introduce you to via this newsletter. But first, let me explain the overall character of the students and all the courses I teach.

Lit You Up Like a Star

I teach English as a foreign language in rural middle school/high school with about 2,500 students. By my (American) standards, this school is ginormous. By Thai standards, from what I gather, the school is rather small, all things considered.

My students are between the ages of 12 to 18. They are, by and large, irrepressible and vibrant. Every day students greet me and other foreign teachers with genuine smiles and the enthusiastic words: "HELLO TEACHER!!!"

I have nine classes with almost 40 students each. About half of those courses are "Special Programs" classes. Special Programs students get nicer, cleaner classrooms with air conditioning and jumbo TV screens, because their parents pay extra for them get a more comfortable and cutting-edge education.

The regular classes, on the other hand, take place in classrooms with worn and splintering wooden floors, cobwebs occupying the corners, and grubby old whiteboards that are coming undone from the wall. They also don't get air conditioning. Just dusty fans that vaguely paddle the sloshy, thick air a little while students try not to melt into puddles on their worn-thin desks and chairs.

Additionally, Special Programs students often have greater proficiency in English, whereas the regular classes are either struggling or middling.

All things considered, a lot of teachers favor Special Programs classes. They are generally easier to teach on some levels, plus you get to be in an air-conditioned classroom. I don't blame them. It's hard teaching English as a foreign language, much less if your students don't understand English, much less if you're sweating buckets in an un-air-conditioned classroom.

Maybe I'm just a masochist, but I've never been one to back down from a challenge. That, and I've always had a soft spot for the students who struggle the most. So, it's no surprise to me that classes I enjoy the most are actually the regular ones.

This is where 5/1 comes in. 5/1 is one of the regular courses, and my favorite class.

Like I Have Found You

My 5/1 students are more committed to the learning process than any of my other classes. They throw their whole hearts into learning English every week, and every week I look forward to my time with them, even when it's difficult. They don't have the "best English" of all my classes, but they certainly have the best attitude. And that makes all the difference in their learning. Plus, they don't have to be the best at English. They just have to try the hardest and they succeed brilliantly as a result.

For example: one day, I divided the students into sub-groups. They already belong to four groups, with team names that the students decided upon. The team names being: Flying King Kong (group 1), We Love Sleep (group 2), Fatty Elephant (group 3), I Love Sushi (group 4).

I further split the groups into "A's" and "B's". A's are designated "school owners", people who now own a school and must advertise for it. B's are potential students who must make a list of questions to ask the school owners about their school (ie, what kind of classes do you have? how much does it cost? etc).

This is the advertisement the Flying King Kong "school owners" put together:

The ad absolutely tickled me pink.

The Flying King Kong school owners went to hold conversations with other groups -- in English, albeit stumbling and a bit fragmented, but still perfectly solid -- about how to get to their school (flying by flapping your arms really hard) and what their courses were.

The other groups included a sleep school, where students would just play games and sleep, and a sushi school with $200,000 a year tuition. (I asked the students why I should pay so much for their school when I could make sushi at home. Their answer? "The sushi is premium, Teacher.")

Each group demonstrated not only remarkable creativity, but also competency in their English speaking and listening skills. Truly, 5/1 did as much speaking as my most advanced class -- and the advanced class is overall older, has more English experience, and is part of Special Programs.

Just like every day is a surprise with my students in general, every day in 5/1 is a joy for me, simply because they truly commit to their learning.

But there is one more reason 5/1 is special to me: their nature is one of generosity, and they have extended that to me.

Be the Lightning in Me

One day, I walked into 5/1 and stopped dead in my tracks from astonishment. There, on the smudgy, dirty old whiteboard, an assortment of faces peered back at me with their English nicknames and their numbers*. Someone had drawn all 41 of the students from 5/1 on the whiteboard, rendering each person's individual personality skillfully through a few deft strokes of a whiteboard marker.

It took me a moment to absorb all this, but when I did, I gasped in pure glee.

"This is amazing! I LOVE it!" I told the class, and they all beamed collectively in response.

"Who drew this?" I asked.

Students pointed to Ten**, a young man who sheepishly seemed to accept that yes, he had drawn all of his classmates.

"This is incredible!" I told him. "I love it!" I repeated.

Ten smiled softly and then said, very quietly, "Now I draw Teacher Jesse."

He got up and went to the whiteboard, and there, while I smiled in encouragement, he added me to those 41 faces.

Something about Ten's quiet, calm manner and the solemn way he went about drawing me was very humbling. It was also humbling to be included at all. Understand, these students have been a class since they were about 12, and they're all about 16 and 17 now, having been through the best and worst of their teen years together. Being part of that, even in some small way, felt incredibly sacred.

* Thai students have English nicknames, because their Thai names can be so gosh darn long. They also have numbers to help teachers distinguish between them further. For example, I have two female students with the nickname "Garfield" in 5/1, and the only way I can tell them apart on paper -- aside from a slight variation in quality of their work -- is their numbers.

** Ten is his English nickname.

Except a Memory, a Distant Echo

This concludes issue 6 of Wellspring. I hope you enjoyed my reminisces of 5/1.

I'll be putting the next issue of Wellspring out in December. The reasons are two-fold. First, I'll be gone for a decent chunk of October, spending at least a couple weeks traveling with one of my dearest friends. Second, November marks the beginning of a new semester. Between these two things, I won't have time for the newsletter until December.

Until then, you can find me on my website, BlueSky, and Facebook, and read past issues of Wellspring here in the archives.

Take care all!

PS. The title of this newsletter, and the headers, comes from the song "The Lightning Strike" by Snow Patrol. It came up on my playlist as I was writing this newsletter and just seemed fitting. You can listen to the song here on YouTube or here on Spotify.

PPS. All images included in this newsletter are my own. 😀