teacher! teacher!

With all of the walking preparation I did prior to arrival, I failed to picture myself carrying heavy items. So now, though my legs and arse feel like normal, shins and ankles...not so much. But forearms should look quite nice by the time I leave.

When envisioning what my teaching job would look like before arriving, I had seen two days of training, a weekend to process, and then dive into it Monday afternoon. After arriving and the lifting of the delusional veil, I discovered it would be more like...a few hours of training on Thursday, followed by an unexpected six hours of teaching on Friday, as someone had to leave early, and there was no one else. I volunteered to teach on Friday, as I am the new girl and I didn't want to look like a wimp. And I also had a little help from the a seasoned teacher on the side before embarking. But around four in the afternoon yesterday, thirty minutes before class, I was nervous-about-to-vomit-intimidated-by-small-Korean-children-may-be-losing-my-mind scared.

It's funny. I am not used to feeling that way. I could get up and give a speech to strangers, no problem. Or fly across an ocean to a foreign place, with nerves in check. Move to another state and find a job, with nothing but a degree and a smile. But the thought of myself in a room with a lesson plan and twelve small kids, and sanity and ease are nowhere to be found.

And then, something happened. A funny little boy came in and sat his bag down at the very back desk, farthest from me, and ran. Then a crazy kid hopping with one shoe on and one shoe off stumbled into his seat, put his other shoe on, and left the room. The first female student arrived, and asked me my name. I replied, "Meredith" and then sighed in relief. I remembered how wonderful children are, even the bratty ones. And that they may be a little afraid of me too. And the ones that aren't afraid are kind. They arrive, in their fear and kindness, sit, and then speak in Korean so that I have no idea what they are saying about me. I laugh, and joke with them, and accept the ease that I now feel.

My second class was more like a tutoring session. I went from twelve small children in my first class to two junior high students, a boy and a girl. Boy was tired of studying, and is probably sitting across from me simply because his wealthy parents make him. Girl loves studying, because studying means tests, and tests show "how great you are". Dedicated is not the correct word. Obsessive, rather. After announcing to me each time she finished something, I watched her flip to the back of the book to work on next weeks homework. She is also my new hero.

She wants to be a doctor of psychology, and study in the states. In Korea, Psychology, she said, is not really accepted. It usually means you are crazy, when in reality, you may just be "stressed". But that's not the way most people see it. She went to a therapist when she was small, and it helped her, and she wants people to see that it can help them too. She wants to try and help foster a changed perspective in her culture about something she believes in. And she is in the eighth grade.