Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

Wrath of Kan

Well, I did a terrible thing today. I yelled at some of my students.

I started class today by talking about my winter vacation, a light topic I hoped would exercise their listening skills. But as I spoke, a group of students, mostly male, kept chatting. Then I proceeded to introduce what we would be learning this semester. But the group of students kept talking amongst themselves even as it was apparent I was trying to teach class.

I should have tried to hush them up in a more polite and non-aggressive manner. But something in me just went off as I realized how irritating this group of students had become.

"Ok guys, shut up!" I yelled at them. "Shut up!"

I was pissed. I yelled again at them, my anger wanting to make clear that I meant what I said. I then said it Chinese to make sure they understood.

A few students laughed as I repeated my demand. I eyed one student in particular, who wore glasses and gave an incredulous smirk, like he didn't care about my words.

"Shut the fuck up!" I said, staring at him. "Shut the fuck up!"

Yes, I dropped the F-bomb. And I'm sure, even my students know what that mean. Everyone in the class then fell silent.

Sigh. I felt awful teaching that class. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I snapped and let my raw emotions take over. I couldn't even believe I did that. I've displayed frustration in class a few times, and even annoyance. But never anger. I guess maybe I had been storing all that suppressed fury and dissatisfaction with my students in a mental silo somewhere. My "Serenity Now Moment"

I really shouldn't yell at my students. It's just counterproductive and ruins the class atmosphere. All my students in that class are probably afraid of me now. Yelling also didn't prevent that group of students from chatting with each other again in later half of my class. I let it slide, afraid that I would inadvertently explode in another outburst if I tried to stop them from talking again.

Still, part of me says I should have been more of a hardass. That they weren't yelled at enough. They're college students for Christ's sake, not a bunch of little kids. They weren't respecting you, so you have every right to get angry at them. If they want to talk, just kick them out of the class. I'm sure deep down inside, part of me really wanted to berate my students, to tell them to get serious and not always mess around. That I was a teacher and not just some soft foreign instructor with a laid back class.

I've been thinking about teaching a lot lately. I think last semester maybe I cared too much about my students and if they improved. I would work late in the night sometimes preparing for a lesson plan, and see it all crumble the next day. I had so much idealism about the job and the good I could do. But that passion would turn into frustration when it was obvious the students weren't consuming the information and the lessons missed the mark. A teacher friend told me, "Don't care so much. You can't control your students."

Yea, I knew that from the start. Still, I want to be a good teacher. I have lots of good students, even the ones I yelled at aren't bad. I want to help them. But it feels like so many of them don't care about my English class, it's just requirement on their class schedule. I think in the end, I'm not suited for this kind of job, where it feels like my hard work and passion amount to nothing at times. I need to care for myself more. I came to China to be a journalist, not a teacher. Teaching is just one experience I wanted to try.