Twenty Eyes, and the other fifty

So, I went to my Friday school today.  The observant among you may notice that today is Monday.  The very observant among you may notice that it's not necessarily Monday for everyone, some prefer to exist in front and behind my day.  It might even be Thursday somewhere, but that's awfully close to being 'discworld talk (TM).'

The point is, the Friday school are having an open day of sorts, inviting parents (they're still called parents here, not guardians like England), government officials (and other teachers) from around the place, into a pit of terror.  Normally I don't get particularly nervous for these things; so I didn't this time either.

It's really very simple.  These people are here to do a job - they're not out for murder.  Other teachers, with whom I occasionally converse, are of the opinion that screwing these events up means the end of the world.  For the native teachers, what it actually means is a retooling of prior knowledge, ensuring their practices are kept up to date.  More often than not, older teachers tend to stick to routines they formed in their younger years, and sometimes they need, at most, a refresher course.

For the ALT's it's essentially the interview for next year.  If you fail this, you're far more likely to be kicked out.  Considering they can replace you at a whim (which I suppose means yes, they are out for murder), their standards are above those held to schools in England. Unfortunately, this means the awesome half drunk/drunkard English teachers, and brain heavy science teachers are a rarity.  Such is the way of a conformist society, these traditional archetypes of sixth form learning guidance experts are in no way present in Japan.  I can understand their reluctance to expose the pupils to such bastions of knowledge as the drunk or genius at too young an age - such brilliance would surely corrupt young minds - but to deny the general population of these amazing creatures is wasteful to the extreme.  If I make it into a university, I'll report on my hunt for these elusive mammals.

So referring to the title, I was watched by three teachers from the other elementary school I work at, three women of unknown origins, a man who is head of the school district (of course it's a male manager, don't be misandristic) and a motley crew of unknowns.  I assume the unknowns are known to someone, otherwise they made a mockery of the formidable school defenses (consisting of a barricade to cover the entrance, and more lockable doors and windows than a greenhouse).

These events are always rehearsed by the school teachers involved, to point of boredom (in my case at least).  This particular lesson was planned for two months before the fact.  Let that just sink in.  A forty minute lesson, two months in the planning.  The Japanese teacher involved is the nicest woman in the world, but she has no confidence in herself.  She is apologetic for everything, even when I make a mistake it somehow becomes her fault.  I know a lot of people who are annoyed by this kind of behaviour, but it really doesn't bother me.  Helping this kind of person achieve something is a pleasure, and in this case it was fun to act with her in this particular charade.

I didn't help her nerves by messing up the introductions however (it was a three pronged attack plan, I introduce myself, the Japanese teacher introduces herself, then the kids introduce themselves to each other, except I forgot that last part.)  I apologised profusely afterwards, but the damage to our working relationship may well be permanent.  If not our partnership, then her blood pressure will certainly never recover.

Anyway, after a few stumbles (all on my behalf) we finished the lesson.  Who knows how it was perceived at large, and indeed I will never know.  The objective analysis of lessons, and the results thereof, are privy only to the higher-ups.  As if that kind of thing would be useful to the teachers involved.  That's just heretical.

Then again, Japanese sensibilities are somewhat frail, so criticism would likely result in hari kari all over the place - and that could get messy.

The Problem with People

So I have to perform an open class ballet.  It's obviously not the dancing kind; but it requires jumping through a thousand proverbial hoops.

I was in a couple of practice classes today (as a foreigner I am incapable in everything I do, so half a dozen practice classes must be performed in order to reach acceptable standards) that entailed me being told to do something, then being told off for doing it.  Luckily I only have to perform this charade with one teacher.

Unluckily that particular teacher is a bag of nerves and emotion, who is struggling to contain it all.  If I hear of a murder-suicide spree at the weekend, I will know the perpetrator before the name is announced.

I am supposed to lead the class in English.  I have no problem with that, except the class has never been conducted in English before.  The kids are therefore bemused whenever I say something, because they've barely heard me speak up to this point.  The whole class is a lie, from the English speaking in class (which is nothing more than rote repetition in a normal class) through to my involvement in the teaching.  I am normally asked to stand still and do nothing, reciting a line on occasion.  The kind of job a robot will do in five years, and I'm certain robots are already doing my job in the private education sector.  Pointless doesn't cover it.

I have no problem being pointless, my work-related stress levels are somewhere below those of a pharmaceutical opiate tester - but I do object to the lies this particular teacher is feeding to those involved.  She knows I have no involvement in class, the students know, I know, yet she insists that we try to make it look like we're equals.

We're not.  On any level.

Couple this with a severe hormone imbalance, and the two practice classes were disastrous.

Considering how little this means to me, I feel she has a lot of work to do.  Have fun with that, woman who needlessly kept me for four hours unpaid overtime in the past two weeks.

Also of note - I am working in comprehensive schools.  Three of them.  My lesson plans were written by a man who thinks 'thru,' is the correct spelling for 'through.'

Needless to say, I end up re-writing most of the plans.  Perfect, my lessons are not.  An adventure into the unknown worlds of English teaching; they most certainly are.

Oh, and the kiwis to be fifty points clear of the japanese team come full time.