Okay, I ran out of time yesterday so I'll complete this now.
Why now you ask? Because after language classes this morning we have been absolutely free all day; no workshops, no tests, nothing!!! Okay, so this is actually only semi-free, since theoretically we are to spend these "free" hours preparing for our language class finals tomorrow.
I fell asleep and took a 2.5 hour nap. Wonderful. Gorgeous. Sensational. Needless to say, amount of studying I have gotten done as of 6:42PM remains at zero percent.
But back to the story.
1. Jeonju
Jeonju should be exciting. The school seems devoutly religious, and though that of course says little about the day-to-day lives of the students and/or teachers--and much less about their internal convictions and practices--it may be a telling sign for my home-stay situation. It also goes to show you just what a great sense of humor life has.
Some of you may know I am not very religious, and that I have my atheistic leanings. I am committed to deeper explorations of faith in its various manifestations, but aside from intellectualizing religion and its meaning I've never been able to find actual religious practice very rewarding. Actually, let me rephrase.
I've had a difficult time in Asian/Asian-American/Korean Christian worship services, which have been the only Christian services I've been to. Really, I've never enjoyed them. It's a strange primal, gut-instinct disinclination that I immediately feel when I'm in that setting. It's inexplicable and takes time for me to articulate that visceral fervor I feel. The one area of worship service that always gets to me is when all rise and begin singing to the glory of God. But I certainly think there will be more to say in the coming year on this topic, so let me not try to stray too far from the path.
A comedy of sorts it seems then that life would give me my most demanded preferences with flying colors but also give me the necessary evil (haha no pun intended). For all you politically-correct minded folk, I'm not saying religion is bad, Christianity is evil, etc. etc. I stated my religious preferences clearly on the form in hopes that I stay far away from a situation similar to that of last year's ETA, when a fellow had to meet a 6PM curfew each night and attend church services for several hours straight on each and every Sunday. Granted I know that's very unlikely to happen and there is a flood of my own unfair and unstated assumptions I am currently thriving off of, but let me write honestly and tell you that these are my concerns.
That said, I know I have it good knowing that these are my concerns.
2. Parents
This past weekend I visited the family in Seoul. The trip was great, and not so surreal this time since I got to see them in a more familiar setting.
I saw my grandmother who has been depressed for several years now and whom my mother is taking care of. I also saw the home-maker who has been with our family ever since I was a baby, and whose strength and fortitude knows no bounds (dirt poor, she raised her four adopted children alone and sent them to college while also saving her husband from a blood clot in the brain by cutting the back of his neck with a kitchen knife to prevent a clot from forming--sorry graphic, but the doctor said this saved his life; all this to say this woman is fearless). Afterward I went shopping for a backpack with my mom and haggled to get a good price on it, then had burgers (great) for lunch. I went to see my great-aunt and her cancer-ridden husband (whom I barely could recognize due to his weight loss but who recognized me immediately and with great elation), had dinner with my cousins and uncles and aunts, then passed out by 11PM. It was exhausting, really.
But I woke up at 10:30AM the next morning, which really all made up for it. Then my parents treated me to my first meal of the day: really good Mexican food with a Negra Modelo. The smells, sights, and tastes of that meal felt to me like what Beethoven's Third Symphony--perhaps the most revolutionary piece of music ever--might have sounded like for the first time. I was all smiles. Mind you, beer--and good beer--is not something of a trademark art in Korea. Even just a Negra Modelo tasted like wine from Dionysus.
Anyways.
So I'm back, and in a couple of days I'll be off to Seoul again for quite the weekend.
Friday: Pool party at Ambassador Steveson's crib (and/or the consulate? not sure)
Saturday: DMZ (+ evening "shenanigans" probably)
Sunday: uh...not sure?
Monday: "Graduation" from Korea University language classes, ceremonies held at Korea University.
Today is a Tuesady.
Tomorrow we have finals.
Thursday is my birthday.
I'll be drinking some much needed red wine that evening. My goodness.
Showing posts with label orientation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orientation. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Log7: A New Outlook
So I've caught up on the past two weeks, but here's what's new.
In less than 12 hours, I will know in what school I will teach and in which city in which region of Korean I will live for the next year.
This has been a rather unnerving process. We have filled out preference forms requesting certain characteristics from our placement: i.e. type of school (middle/high, girls/guys/co-ed), type of environment (rural/suburban/urban), geographic layout (inland, coastal, etc.), etc.
After living in a rural small village town for the past five years, there were three things I absolutely wanted (and which I made clear on my preference sheet):
1. Music. I want to be able to take advantage of musical opportunities at my location, via community orchestra, chamber music, traditional music center, whatever.
2. People. I want to be close to people I know and have befriended here. I want that support system, or even just knowing that they are near me. I mentioned specifically that I hopefully be placed near my 2010 Pitzer friend who reminds me of Gerber-Baby (aka Nick; see Log6.6, Friends).
3. Food. Okay, seemingly silly, but really important in my mind. Having eaten the same cuisine the past few weeks was difficult. I had more than one occasion when I almost became sick of the food (kim-chi, actually, which I could eat without a problem but apparently not without some diversity injected every once in a while), a scary thought if one were to consider seriously the huge role food has in all of our lives and will have in my life this coming year. I don't want to be in a situation where I can't eat the food that's being provided to me, or that I become resentful. I want to have that burger, that burrito, that other cuisine at least available and accessible so that I know I can have them, even if I don't have them everyday or every week even.
Where do these preferences point me? Hopefully a suburban or urban city where the aforementioned elements will already be inherent to it (music, people, food).
All this said, yeah I know Republic of Korea (aka South Korea) is the size of Indiana; it's really not that big. So yeah I know I can easily get access to the above things with reasonable travel times.
But I'm going to be busy.
In years past there have been both shouts of elation and tears of disappointment at this meeting (people not getting what they wanted). I'm obviously going to try not to stress about it because all is said and done and, as my Week 5 CAC says, I will make the best of whatever situation is given (because I have no other choice)...but...I really hope I get a decent placement next to some good people. Just saying.
Hm. I'm a bit nervous. I'll let you know how that goes tomorrow.
In less than 12 hours, I will know in what school I will teach and in which city in which region of Korean I will live for the next year.
This has been a rather unnerving process. We have filled out preference forms requesting certain characteristics from our placement: i.e. type of school (middle/high, girls/guys/co-ed), type of environment (rural/suburban/urban), geographic layout (inland, coastal, etc.), etc.
After living in a rural small village town for the past five years, there were three things I absolutely wanted (and which I made clear on my preference sheet):
1. Music. I want to be able to take advantage of musical opportunities at my location, via community orchestra, chamber music, traditional music center, whatever.
2. People. I want to be close to people I know and have befriended here. I want that support system, or even just knowing that they are near me. I mentioned specifically that I hopefully be placed near my 2010 Pitzer friend who reminds me of Gerber-Baby (aka Nick; see Log6.6, Friends).
3. Food. Okay, seemingly silly, but really important in my mind. Having eaten the same cuisine the past few weeks was difficult. I had more than one occasion when I almost became sick of the food (kim-chi, actually, which I could eat without a problem but apparently not without some diversity injected every once in a while), a scary thought if one were to consider seriously the huge role food has in all of our lives and will have in my life this coming year. I don't want to be in a situation where I can't eat the food that's being provided to me, or that I become resentful. I want to have that burger, that burrito, that other cuisine at least available and accessible so that I know I can have them, even if I don't have them everyday or every week even.
Where do these preferences point me? Hopefully a suburban or urban city where the aforementioned elements will already be inherent to it (music, people, food).
All this said, yeah I know Republic of Korea (aka South Korea) is the size of Indiana; it's really not that big. So yeah I know I can easily get access to the above things with reasonable travel times.
But I'm going to be busy.
In years past there have been both shouts of elation and tears of disappointment at this meeting (people not getting what they wanted). I'm obviously going to try not to stress about it because all is said and done and, as my Week 5 CAC says, I will make the best of whatever situation is given (because I have no other choice)...but...I really hope I get a decent placement next to some good people. Just saying.
Hm. I'm a bit nervous. I'll let you know how that goes tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Log 6.5: Archery, Inception and a Burger
Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the fifth of a six-part series.
This is Part 5: Archery, Inception and a Burger
Archery
As part of orientation, we signed up for various optional extracurricular activities. I signed up to participate in Archery. Three days ago, a group of us went to the former training grounds for the Korean Olympic Archery team to learn from a former Olympics coach (who now coaches other Olympic coaches). The Korean archery team is famous for being one of--if not--the best in the world, often sweeping gold medals at the Olympic Games.
This is Part 5: Archery, Inception and a Burger
Archery
As part of orientation, we signed up for various optional extracurricular activities. I signed up to participate in Archery. Three days ago, a group of us went to the former training grounds for the Korean Olympic Archery team to learn from a former Olympics coach (who now coaches other Olympic coaches). The Korean archery team is famous for being one of--if not--the best in the world, often sweeping gold medals at the Olympic Games.
We're newbies, so these targets were ten meters away.
Olympic distance is 70meters away; the ones way in the back covered in the green tarp.
The scenery was nice.
The bows...
The man in blue whose back is to us is the coach.
Me, Nora, and Grace.
I hit two "bulls-eye"s, one red, and the rest blue, black or white. One friend from Montana had only tried this once for twenty minutes but hit nearly every arrow in the bulls-eye mark. She had gone hunting with rifles before (Montana) and said the principles were similar.
Trying.
Yes, it was as fun as it looks.
Log6.4: Dancing the Stress Away
Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the fourth of a six-part series.
This is Part 4: Dancing the Stress Away
I have been listening to a lot of music...but not Korean music. It's been interesting how you sometimes gain an appreciation for the things that you had when you become distant from those things.
I have a large collection of music, and as I listen to the songs I inevitably run into songs that evoke memories of my dancing days; mainly salsa and swing. And for the past two weeks, I had been DYING to get back into social dancing (it is an incredibly small niche in Korea; most everyone has never done social dancing).
So I asked around among my ETA friends, and lo-and-behold we have dancers. Good ones. Many know swing and salsa so we decided to make something happen.
The first night, five people showed up and we hosted lessons on the basics. Two nights ago (Sunday) we had a group of maybe 20, 6 of who were the language teachers (and who ended up being the most unfamiliar with and consequently most enthusiastic learners). Tonight I missed the third lesson to catch up here online (we're reviewing basics).
The extent to which I felt rejuvenated and alive after salsa-dancing with another ETA for just three songs and swing-dancing for just two songs astounded me. Dance--much less social dance--is a small niche even in America but which has gained prominence with the rise of popular TV shows. Here, dance is incredibly popular but the idea of social dancing is unheard of, especially in light of the social conservatism still upheld with respect to dating and the gender divide. It exists, but I think it is a tiny --but lively, as all groups of dancers tend to be--community in Korea. I look forward to finding opportunities that will help me recall my dancing shoes.
Log6.3: A Musical Renaissance
Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the third of a six-part series.
This is Part 3: A Musical Renaissance
Everyone told me that I should continue to play music after I graduate. I couldn't tell you then or now how exactly I will be involved with music, but it seemed only right that I do. I just can't seem to separate myself from this metal pipe of an instrument, and--ipso facto--music.
Since I've arrived in Korea I can't count...3? 4 days in which I failed to practice. Of course, we must understand the term "practice" lightly, for I am not attending to the once rigors of scales, arpeggios and etudes I once used to. By "practice," I could mean anything from an hour to ten minutes. I know that daily and continued playing--even just touching the flute each day--can play a significant role in the long run. Eventually, word got around that I play the flute, and there is an incredible pool of amazing musicians in this group of ETAs. I have been happily surprised.
I met Emily (or more famously called EKG after her initials), an officer who works at the Fulbright office in Seoul . After hearing her fantastic violin playing at an impromptu performance at Haeinsa, I had hoped to speak to her regarding musical opportunities in Korea. Not two weeks later, I would be performing five pieces with her and another ETA pianist for over 120 students and staff!
She was asked by Camp Fulbright (see Log6.2: On Pedagogy) to perform something for the campers on Music day. She approached me knowing that I had my instrument and asked if I wanted to collaborate and I of course readily agreed. We recruited another ETA who happened to be a brilliant pianist, and together we rehearsed for maybe two hours in total and performed for the students. We played a Telemann duet, the "Flower Duet" from the Lakme opera by Delibes, and three movements from a trio written by an Italian composer Cui.
The last time I collaborated with other musicians--much less rehearse and perform with them--was more than two months ago. I had not realized how much I missed it, but while rehearsing with these two fabulous musicians, I remembered the vitality, the energy, and the inexplicably divine and pure joy music gave me. To stand there and immerse myself in the music and become lost--even if only for a moment--in a world beyond our own was the most refreshing break I had since arriving in Korea. And to share this experience with the 100+ campers and their staff in addition to the musicians with whom I collaborated...well, that was just enchanting.
This is Part 3: A Musical Renaissance
Everyone told me that I should continue to play music after I graduate. I couldn't tell you then or now how exactly I will be involved with music, but it seemed only right that I do. I just can't seem to separate myself from this metal pipe of an instrument, and--ipso facto--music.
Since I've arrived in Korea I can't count...3? 4 days in which I failed to practice. Of course, we must understand the term "practice" lightly, for I am not attending to the once rigors of scales, arpeggios and etudes I once used to. By "practice," I could mean anything from an hour to ten minutes. I know that daily and continued playing--even just touching the flute each day--can play a significant role in the long run. Eventually, word got around that I play the flute, and there is an incredible pool of amazing musicians in this group of ETAs. I have been happily surprised.
I met Emily (or more famously called EKG after her initials), an officer who works at the Fulbright office in Seoul . After hearing her fantastic violin playing at an impromptu performance at Haeinsa, I had hoped to speak to her regarding musical opportunities in Korea. Not two weeks later, I would be performing five pieces with her and another ETA pianist for over 120 students and staff!
She was asked by Camp Fulbright (see Log6.2: On Pedagogy) to perform something for the campers on Music day. She approached me knowing that I had my instrument and asked if I wanted to collaborate and I of course readily agreed. We recruited another ETA who happened to be a brilliant pianist, and together we rehearsed for maybe two hours in total and performed for the students. We played a Telemann duet, the "Flower Duet" from the Lakme opera by Delibes, and three movements from a trio written by an Italian composer Cui.
The last time I collaborated with other musicians--much less rehearse and perform with them--was more than two months ago. I had not realized how much I missed it, but while rehearsing with these two fabulous musicians, I remembered the vitality, the energy, and the inexplicably divine and pure joy music gave me. To stand there and immerse myself in the music and become lost--even if only for a moment--in a world beyond our own was the most refreshing break I had since arriving in Korea. And to share this experience with the 100+ campers and their staff in addition to the musicians with whom I collaborated...well, that was just enchanting.
Log6.6: These are a Few of the Things that I Miss
Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the last of a six-part series.
This is Part 6: These are a few of the Things That I Miss
1) Brother:
I called my brother yesterday afternoon (KO Monday afternoon = CA Sunday evening) for the first time since I got to Korea, and wow did I miss him. I didn't know just how much I did until I began listening to his voice, seeing his face in my mind, and feeling numerous pangs in my stomach, my face become hot, and my vision blur with tears and my voice tremble a bit. I composed myself of course, and I know he didn't notice, but my powerful visceral reaction to hearing his voice was a surprise even I didn't see coming. I guess you can say we have a close relationship.
2) Friends:
Here's a public note to a couple of my dear friends (and for everyone not mentioned, it's not personal; I do miss you all sincerely):
I. Dear TJ Lane
I'm sorry I haven't contacted you personally for so long. I will do so soon, if even only for my own sake. But remember that Nalgene you got me for my birthday last year? And you know how much you like to see your gifts being used well?
You can't see it yourself, but believe me when I say that the water bottle and I have become inseparable. I remember misplacing it once and I was under extreme duress for the next three hours until a friend found it for me. It has become an absolute requirement, a lifeline, a part of me. I have it every time I leave my room; to workshops, language classes, anything, everything.
Thanks.
II. Dear Nick Gerber
i) I don't know if you've read "Log6.2: On Pedagogy" yet but let me tell you that your help was essential to the success of my last lesson, not only for your pedagogical advice but the basic framework which you outlined for me and which launched my lesson plan in big ways. The kids were engaged, focused, and walked out probably a bit tired but more importantly thinking, and thinking critically about these issues. Thank you.
ii) I have befriended a Pitzer 2010er who is here with me now and whom I had met at the CORO Fellowship finalists interview day. Who would have guessed that he would quickly become one of my closest friends with whom I have connected very well, in part because he reminds me of our relationship SO MUCH. Seeing his mannerisms, the way he speaks, his conversational style, his body posture, his sincerity, his warmth and a big-brother-type aura he exudes are all so incredibly similar that I could easily deny this as mere coincidence; that there is something else in the works, a grand plan, some eerie twilight-zone/parallel-universe thing going. Remember our freshman year? That's what it's been feeling like with this guy.
In any case, this is not to take away from either you or him as human beings or undermine the different relationships we have built and will build, but I just thought I would share with you this interesting peculiarity in my life.
Miss you, babe.
Josh and Chris, if you're reading this, no I'm not gay. *sigh* And don't worry, I miss you guys too.
3) Weather
Today I dipped my shirt in a pool of warm water and let it soak there for twenty minutes. By this, I mean that I played basketball for thirty minutes.
"Dry" is not a concept extant in Korea, apparently (not true, not extant in the summer; it's very dry in the winter). The humidity level is absurd, and the actual heat from the sun has not helped any. Thank goodness for air-conditioning, because otherwise none of these electronic devices would be functioning properly (due to moisture; exaggeration, but only slight).
4) Mexican Food
The first time I had a burger in the past six weeks was two days ago. What makes you think Mexican is something even remotely conceivable by my neck-of-the-woods?
So apparently there are a few good Mexican restaurants in Seoul. But really the past few weeks have involved at least one person a day saying, "I know I shouldn't say this but...I would die for a [insert taco, burrito, quesadilla, or other stereotypically Mexican food]." Oh my friends, it has been difficult. Oh my friends, I do miss these things called chips, nachos, burritos, pinto, black, salsa, guacamole...
Cherish them. Eat them for me.
I go to Seoul this weekend. The first thing I want to have will be these foods.
5) Wine
Wine is not common here in Korea. It's not consumed, and it's not produced well. If produced, it is often fake. If imported, it is imported often from other Asian countries who also fake it. The alcoholic staples here are soju and bland beer.
Two nice cabernet-sauvignons are sitting above my bed right now. I brought them as gifts to give to my 1) school principal and 2) host family.
I have since bought an imported white for cheap, scraped off the import label, and have decided to substitute that for one of the reds which I myself will consume, hopefully on my birthday.
I want some wine.
This is Part 6: These are a few of the Things That I Miss
1) Brother:
I called my brother yesterday afternoon (KO Monday afternoon = CA Sunday evening) for the first time since I got to Korea, and wow did I miss him. I didn't know just how much I did until I began listening to his voice, seeing his face in my mind, and feeling numerous pangs in my stomach, my face become hot, and my vision blur with tears and my voice tremble a bit. I composed myself of course, and I know he didn't notice, but my powerful visceral reaction to hearing his voice was a surprise even I didn't see coming. I guess you can say we have a close relationship.
2) Friends:
Here's a public note to a couple of my dear friends (and for everyone not mentioned, it's not personal; I do miss you all sincerely):
I. Dear TJ Lane
I'm sorry I haven't contacted you personally for so long. I will do so soon, if even only for my own sake. But remember that Nalgene you got me for my birthday last year? And you know how much you like to see your gifts being used well?
You can't see it yourself, but believe me when I say that the water bottle and I have become inseparable. I remember misplacing it once and I was under extreme duress for the next three hours until a friend found it for me. It has become an absolute requirement, a lifeline, a part of me. I have it every time I leave my room; to workshops, language classes, anything, everything.
Thanks.
II. Dear Nick Gerber
i) I don't know if you've read "Log6.2: On Pedagogy" yet but let me tell you that your help was essential to the success of my last lesson, not only for your pedagogical advice but the basic framework which you outlined for me and which launched my lesson plan in big ways. The kids were engaged, focused, and walked out probably a bit tired but more importantly thinking, and thinking critically about these issues. Thank you.
ii) I have befriended a Pitzer 2010er who is here with me now and whom I had met at the CORO Fellowship finalists interview day. Who would have guessed that he would quickly become one of my closest friends with whom I have connected very well, in part because he reminds me of our relationship SO MUCH. Seeing his mannerisms, the way he speaks, his conversational style, his body posture, his sincerity, his warmth and a big-brother-type aura he exudes are all so incredibly similar that I could easily deny this as mere coincidence; that there is something else in the works, a grand plan, some eerie twilight-zone/parallel-universe thing going. Remember our freshman year? That's what it's been feeling like with this guy.
In any case, this is not to take away from either you or him as human beings or undermine the different relationships we have built and will build, but I just thought I would share with you this interesting peculiarity in my life.
Miss you, babe.
Josh and Chris, if you're reading this, no I'm not gay. *sigh* And don't worry, I miss you guys too.
3) Weather
Today I dipped my shirt in a pool of warm water and let it soak there for twenty minutes. By this, I mean that I played basketball for thirty minutes.
"Dry" is not a concept extant in Korea, apparently (not true, not extant in the summer; it's very dry in the winter). The humidity level is absurd, and the actual heat from the sun has not helped any. Thank goodness for air-conditioning, because otherwise none of these electronic devices would be functioning properly (due to moisture; exaggeration, but only slight).
4) Mexican Food
The first time I had a burger in the past six weeks was two days ago. What makes you think Mexican is something even remotely conceivable by my neck-of-the-woods?
So apparently there are a few good Mexican restaurants in Seoul. But really the past few weeks have involved at least one person a day saying, "I know I shouldn't say this but...I would die for a [insert taco, burrito, quesadilla, or other stereotypically Mexican food]." Oh my friends, it has been difficult. Oh my friends, I do miss these things called chips, nachos, burritos, pinto, black, salsa, guacamole...
Cherish them. Eat them for me.
I go to Seoul this weekend. The first thing I want to have will be these foods.
5) Wine
Wine is not common here in Korea. It's not consumed, and it's not produced well. If produced, it is often fake. If imported, it is imported often from other Asian countries who also fake it. The alcoholic staples here are soju and bland beer.
Two nice cabernet-sauvignons are sitting above my bed right now. I brought them as gifts to give to my 1) school principal and 2) host family.
I have since bought an imported white for cheap, scraped off the import label, and have decided to substitute that for one of the reds which I myself will consume, hopefully on my birthday.
I want some wine.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Log6.2: On Pedagogy
Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the second of a six-part series.
This is Part 2: On Pedagogy
Two weeks ago in "Log5," I described my excitement and anticipation for my first ever classroom teaching experience. Two weeks have gone, and I have now taught three full classes on different topics. This entry is about those experiences.
"Camp Fulbright" hosted the top elementary, middle, and young high school students to a two-week English immersion camp. The camp provided a space for not only these young students to learn, but also us to practice teaching, many of us for the first time. Each day of camp had a certain academic/non-academic theme; I taught on the days of music, literature, and social studies, in that order.
This is the way the show ran: I taught a 50-minute class, my co-teacher teaches a 50-minute class, and we both get feedback from a host teacher who observed and gave us feedback in private.
Lesson 1: "My Girl can Rhyme" (Music)
I opened with a short introduction, during which the twelve middle school students displayed an indistinguishable reaction of surprise, elation, and disappointment at the sign of my name which is as American as the USSR was in the 1970's and as emblematically Korean as kim-chi. This reaction, I think, would not prove insignificant.
I told the students that 'My Girl' was from 1964, and they "ooh"-ed and "ah"-ed in ways that made me feel, perhaps for the first time, like someone behind the times. Nevertheless, they loved the song. We played 'Telephone' with each of the three teams of four relaying one line from the song to each other. The game proved much more successful than it might have seemed.
So we went over the vocabulary words then proceeded to listen to the rhyme schemes. Afterward I asked them to work in groups and partners to come up with their own rhymes, but the worksheet proved far too difficult. That, or I just didn't set it up well enough, and the activity rather tanked. Some students "got it," but many were left behind. 50 minutes passed, and John was up next: a Paul Buyan-esque, red-headed Viking-like 6'3" Southerner from Georgia.
I remember getting down on myself after seeing how well John did; he nailed it. His subsequent lessons all proved to be wonderful successes despite his lack of teaching experience. I guess he was made for this job.
I don't want to undermine his fantastic presence and incredible execution of the lessons, but I did also feel that in a nation so easily enraptured by the apparent and so quickly seduced by the aesthetic (by this I mean the hyper-sensitivity to body image and the extreme cosmopolitanism), a Viking-esque man who would stick out like a sore thumb even in America would surely command more attention from the audience than an explicitly Korean man when given the same stage; he's different, SO different.
I know I know, everyone has different ways of teaching, no two people have the same learning curves, each person has his/her strengths, etc. I'm certainly not attributing pedagogical differences to our different ethnicity, of course not, but I am simply willing to ponder what influences this transparent subtlety may have on the students' learning.
In any case, the teacher thought it went pretty well and pointed to classroom management and conclusion of class times as a couple of things I could work on.
Lesson 2: "A Little Alliteration" (Literature)
After looking at the texts I brought with me from the states(DFW's Consider the Lobster or Alex Haley's Autobiography of Malcolm X), I realized that the same group of students would not be ready for such a deep discussion. So after some thought, I thought alliteration would work well. And it worked wonderfully...sort of.
To start off class, I recited to them the "V" monologue from V for Vendetta. This hooked them in quite quickly, since my recitation of the monologue was imbued with my inner desire to perform it. They quickly picked up on the theme, and we dove into tongue twisters.
First we played Tongue Twister games; three teams of four race to see which one can first complete the 'Peter Piper' tongue twister perfectly, with each member reciting one line from the verse. That went over well, and they were really very good.
Then we played another game called "Dialogue." This timed class activity entails each person to read one line from a whole passage. The catch is that each knows only the line he/she must speak, and the line that precedes it. Each student must hence listen to their classmates and speak their line in turn.*
*SAMPLE SLIP: "When you hear: Bobby Bippy bought a bat/Read aloud: Bobby Bippy bought a ball."
This became a huge success, and after each round the students wanted to better their times. The first time took 2 minutes, the second time took 50 seconds. Then they imposed a "30second challenge" on themselves to try to say the 12-line passage under 30 seconds.
They completed it in 27 seconds. The class erupted as if Korea had won the World Cup.
So they got the idea, and I shared with them how such alliteration can be used in poems. I used Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost, then gave them Shel Silverstein's Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out as a worksheet.
The games sapped their energies and the worksheet proved too long.
Overall though I walked out feeling much better about my teaching skills. The CI (mentor) had many great things to say, reassuring me that many of the kids were just so sleep-deprived and tired that their lack of energy after the game was not my fault. I will cut myself some slack and say these kids had a ridiculous schedule.
Lesson 3: "Gender and Racial Stereotypes" (Social Studies)
By far the most ambitious, but also the most successful of my three lessons, I walked out this lesson feeling great.* I had my doubts placated once my mentor told me that my lesson was "one of the best lesson plans executed for student-centered learning." I couldn't help but say back to her "Holy sh%#, thank you wow, sorry for my French." Needless to say, I was floored.
*This was a whole different class, by the way; new students, new mentor. This was the first and last time I would teach this group of students.
Okay, Academy Awards aside, personal thanks to Nick for helping and inspiring me to make this plan work. I wrote him an e-mail asking him to "brief" me on some of the issues and draw from his pedagogical experience, and he went overboard and out of his way to help me.
I start with the riddle about a boy who gets in a car accident with his father, goes to the hospital and is seen by the doctor who says, "I cannot operate on my son." The riddle questions how the dead father can suddenly be the doctor, but reveals the general prejudice that doctors are male and cannot be the mother of the son. I don't tell the end of the riddle until the end of class.
I play two-truths-and-a-lie about myself after my self-introduction. This is to get them to start thinking about racial/ethnic stereotypes. 1) I was born in Korea (True; a few thought it was a lie); 2) I was a speed skater (True; almost all thought it was a lie) 3) I have an "American" name (False; only two guessed correctly that this was the lie--ie everyone else assumed I had a stereotypically American name). When I wrote my name up on the board, it was interesting to see their reactions; quite contrary to the first class I taught.
I then played the Agree/Disagree exercise; go to one side of the room if you agree with a statement, and the other side if you disagree.
We are in the USA. Obvious; all disagreed.
This tie is blue. Obvious; all agreed.
Men are stronger than women. All women disagreed; all men agreed (FASCINATING, NO?!)
Women are better cooks than men. Two women agreed; all others disagreed.
Then we just brainstormed on the board; things about men, then things about women. Then the class split into teams of four and rotated around poster stations where they would do the same about other racial categories: Indians, White Americans, African Americans, and Koreans. Then we debriefed.
These students were not typical Korean students, for they were, as the coordinators told us, the best and the brightest. Their awareness of these stereotypes was impressive; one student saw that "poor" was written by the African American bubble, and reacted to write a 'nullifying' "rich" next to it.
Still, the exercise proved rich with ideas and concepts. The students were engaged and engrossed by the activity, visibly grappling and struggling with the adjectives and nouns that arose in their heads. The clearest example was the lack of words and descriptions given to Indians (of continental Asia) versus those given to Koreans; the sheer quantity of bubbles was incomparable. And I pointed that out to them. And as I walked around the classroom to share with the students what they all had come up with collectively, I was astounded by the number of pairs of eyes that followed me intently. Clearly, they had taken some interest to what I had to say, and the conclusions that we
I finally concluded with the vocabulary word of the day, which was "stereotype." I tied it back to the riddle, the two-truths-and-a-lie, and finished with a story about Jeremy Lin, a friend from Palo Alto with whom I went to elementary and middle schools and who after graduating from Harvard this year is now drafted by the Golden State Warriors. He is Taiwanese, and is right now hanging out with Yao Ming for his foundation.
My objective for this lesson was for the students to simply think about these issues and raise questions in their head. And by the focus they had for those 50minutes, the tremendous attention they gave me, and the warmth of their applause at the end of class, I could not help but walk out feeling great. I would have been happy to have had even one student walk out of class and think about these issues for even just 2 seconds, but by the way that lesson went I think I can safely say--without intended conceit or arrogance--that I accomplished this goal.
I was stunned by just how many good things my mentor had to say. She did mention that I could do more with positive reinforcement and perhaps tone down my serious persona, but she said that semi-facetiously. I intended the class to have a more serious tone, so I'm glad I communicated that.
Conclusions and Thoughts
Teaching was draining and incredibly tiring. From brainstorming lesson plans to creating the lessons to preparing for the lesson and actually enacting the lessons, I gained a tremendous appreciation and renewed respect for teachers past, present and future, and especially for those who shaped me in ways undefinable and indescribable.
More to come.
This is Part 2: On Pedagogy
Two weeks ago in "Log5," I described my excitement and anticipation for my first ever classroom teaching experience. Two weeks have gone, and I have now taught three full classes on different topics. This entry is about those experiences.
"Camp Fulbright" hosted the top elementary, middle, and young high school students to a two-week English immersion camp. The camp provided a space for not only these young students to learn, but also us to practice teaching, many of us for the first time. Each day of camp had a certain academic/non-academic theme; I taught on the days of music, literature, and social studies, in that order.
This is the way the show ran: I taught a 50-minute class, my co-teacher teaches a 50-minute class, and we both get feedback from a host teacher who observed and gave us feedback in private.
Lesson 1: "My Girl can Rhyme" (Music)
I opened with a short introduction, during which the twelve middle school students displayed an indistinguishable reaction of surprise, elation, and disappointment at the sign of my name which is as American as the USSR was in the 1970's and as emblematically Korean as kim-chi. This reaction, I think, would not prove insignificant.
I told the students that 'My Girl' was from 1964, and they "ooh"-ed and "ah"-ed in ways that made me feel, perhaps for the first time, like someone behind the times. Nevertheless, they loved the song. We played 'Telephone' with each of the three teams of four relaying one line from the song to each other. The game proved much more successful than it might have seemed.
So we went over the vocabulary words then proceeded to listen to the rhyme schemes. Afterward I asked them to work in groups and partners to come up with their own rhymes, but the worksheet proved far too difficult. That, or I just didn't set it up well enough, and the activity rather tanked. Some students "got it," but many were left behind. 50 minutes passed, and John was up next: a Paul Buyan-esque, red-headed Viking-like 6'3" Southerner from Georgia.
I remember getting down on myself after seeing how well John did; he nailed it. His subsequent lessons all proved to be wonderful successes despite his lack of teaching experience. I guess he was made for this job.
I don't want to undermine his fantastic presence and incredible execution of the lessons, but I did also feel that in a nation so easily enraptured by the apparent and so quickly seduced by the aesthetic (by this I mean the hyper-sensitivity to body image and the extreme cosmopolitanism), a Viking-esque man who would stick out like a sore thumb even in America would surely command more attention from the audience than an explicitly Korean man when given the same stage; he's different, SO different.
I know I know, everyone has different ways of teaching, no two people have the same learning curves, each person has his/her strengths, etc. I'm certainly not attributing pedagogical differences to our different ethnicity, of course not, but I am simply willing to ponder what influences this transparent subtlety may have on the students' learning.
In any case, the teacher thought it went pretty well and pointed to classroom management and conclusion of class times as a couple of things I could work on.
Lesson 2: "A Little Alliteration" (Literature)
After looking at the texts I brought with me from the states(DFW's Consider the Lobster or Alex Haley's Autobiography of Malcolm X), I realized that the same group of students would not be ready for such a deep discussion. So after some thought, I thought alliteration would work well. And it worked wonderfully...sort of.
To start off class, I recited to them the "V" monologue from V for Vendetta. This hooked them in quite quickly, since my recitation of the monologue was imbued with my inner desire to perform it. They quickly picked up on the theme, and we dove into tongue twisters.
First we played Tongue Twister games; three teams of four race to see which one can first complete the 'Peter Piper' tongue twister perfectly, with each member reciting one line from the verse. That went over well, and they were really very good.
Then we played another game called "Dialogue." This timed class activity entails each person to read one line from a whole passage. The catch is that each knows only the line he/she must speak, and the line that precedes it. Each student must hence listen to their classmates and speak their line in turn.*
*SAMPLE SLIP: "When you hear: Bobby Bippy bought a bat/Read aloud: Bobby Bippy bought a ball."
This became a huge success, and after each round the students wanted to better their times. The first time took 2 minutes, the second time took 50 seconds. Then they imposed a "30second challenge" on themselves to try to say the 12-line passage under 30 seconds.
They completed it in 27 seconds. The class erupted as if Korea had won the World Cup.
So they got the idea, and I shared with them how such alliteration can be used in poems. I used Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost, then gave them Shel Silverstein's Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out as a worksheet.
The games sapped their energies and the worksheet proved too long.
Overall though I walked out feeling much better about my teaching skills. The CI (mentor) had many great things to say, reassuring me that many of the kids were just so sleep-deprived and tired that their lack of energy after the game was not my fault. I will cut myself some slack and say these kids had a ridiculous schedule.
Lesson 3: "Gender and Racial Stereotypes" (Social Studies)
By far the most ambitious, but also the most successful of my three lessons, I walked out this lesson feeling great.* I had my doubts placated once my mentor told me that my lesson was "one of the best lesson plans executed for student-centered learning." I couldn't help but say back to her "Holy sh%#, thank you wow, sorry for my French." Needless to say, I was floored.
*This was a whole different class, by the way; new students, new mentor. This was the first and last time I would teach this group of students.
Okay, Academy Awards aside, personal thanks to Nick for helping and inspiring me to make this plan work. I wrote him an e-mail asking him to "brief" me on some of the issues and draw from his pedagogical experience, and he went overboard and out of his way to help me.
I start with the riddle about a boy who gets in a car accident with his father, goes to the hospital and is seen by the doctor who says, "I cannot operate on my son." The riddle questions how the dead father can suddenly be the doctor, but reveals the general prejudice that doctors are male and cannot be the mother of the son. I don't tell the end of the riddle until the end of class.
I play two-truths-and-a-lie about myself after my self-introduction. This is to get them to start thinking about racial/ethnic stereotypes. 1) I was born in Korea (True; a few thought it was a lie); 2) I was a speed skater (True; almost all thought it was a lie) 3) I have an "American" name (False; only two guessed correctly that this was the lie--ie everyone else assumed I had a stereotypically American name). When I wrote my name up on the board, it was interesting to see their reactions; quite contrary to the first class I taught.
I then played the Agree/Disagree exercise; go to one side of the room if you agree with a statement, and the other side if you disagree.
We are in the USA. Obvious; all disagreed.
This tie is blue. Obvious; all agreed.
Men are stronger than women. All women disagreed; all men agreed (FASCINATING, NO?!)
Women are better cooks than men. Two women agreed; all others disagreed.
Then we just brainstormed on the board; things about men, then things about women. Then the class split into teams of four and rotated around poster stations where they would do the same about other racial categories: Indians, White Americans, African Americans, and Koreans. Then we debriefed.
These students were not typical Korean students, for they were, as the coordinators told us, the best and the brightest. Their awareness of these stereotypes was impressive; one student saw that "poor" was written by the African American bubble, and reacted to write a 'nullifying' "rich" next to it.
Still, the exercise proved rich with ideas and concepts. The students were engaged and engrossed by the activity, visibly grappling and struggling with the adjectives and nouns that arose in their heads. The clearest example was the lack of words and descriptions given to Indians (of continental Asia) versus those given to Koreans; the sheer quantity of bubbles was incomparable. And I pointed that out to them. And as I walked around the classroom to share with the students what they all had come up with collectively, I was astounded by the number of pairs of eyes that followed me intently. Clearly, they had taken some interest to what I had to say, and the conclusions that we
I finally concluded with the vocabulary word of the day, which was "stereotype." I tied it back to the riddle, the two-truths-and-a-lie, and finished with a story about Jeremy Lin, a friend from Palo Alto with whom I went to elementary and middle schools and who after graduating from Harvard this year is now drafted by the Golden State Warriors. He is Taiwanese, and is right now hanging out with Yao Ming for his foundation.
My objective for this lesson was for the students to simply think about these issues and raise questions in their head. And by the focus they had for those 50minutes, the tremendous attention they gave me, and the warmth of their applause at the end of class, I could not help but walk out feeling great. I would have been happy to have had even one student walk out of class and think about these issues for even just 2 seconds, but by the way that lesson went I think I can safely say--without intended conceit or arrogance--that I accomplished this goal.
I was stunned by just how many good things my mentor had to say. She did mention that I could do more with positive reinforcement and perhaps tone down my serious persona, but she said that semi-facetiously. I intended the class to have a more serious tone, so I'm glad I communicated that.
Conclusions and Thoughts
Teaching was draining and incredibly tiring. From brainstorming lesson plans to creating the lessons to preparing for the lesson and actually enacting the lessons, I gained a tremendous appreciation and renewed respect for teachers past, present and future, and especially for those who shaped me in ways undefinable and indescribable.
More to come.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Log5: A Lesson and a Word on Identity
Just posted a new post, but here is another one with some other thoughts on a couple of things.
1. This week, the Korean Fulbright Commission (officially Korean-American Education Commission, or KAEC) is throwing a two-week English immersion camp to middle school and high school kids from around the country held at the same site. This is of course mostly for the students, but it has also become a great training ground for us the ETAs. As such we will be teaching our first classes to Korean students in these testing grounds with overall good students before we're throw into the real things.
Tomorrow (er, in about 12 hours) I will teach my first lesson. I have no previous formal class teaching experience and am a bit nervous about it; many of this year's grantees have substantial teaching experience, have done TFA (Teach For America) or even have actual teaching degrees. Luckily I'm part of a good number who are total newbies to this teaching thing.
However, I also know that there is a great performance aspect to teaching and as I have been thinking about it as more of a performance, somehow I've become more comfortable with teaching. I'm really excited, actually; I'll try to put on a show for these kids, and try to keep them engaged for 50 minutes with a reasonable attempt at an improvised, interactive theater performance. I loved my acting class last semester and have always felt reasonably comfortable on stage so the territory--at least in this light--won't really be all that strange. I feel grateful to all my greatest, most influential and most memorable teachers because I've really been thinking back about them and what made their classes so memorable.
My first lesson is going to teach the students (English Language learners) about rhyme through the classic My Girl by The Temptations. Luckily, this is a song that excites me a lot so at least I will have my enthusiasm to fuel me along, if not hopefully the other students as well. If you listen to the songs, it's sheer poetry: I got so much honey the bees envy me, I've got a sweeter song that the birds in the tress... People don't write like that anymore! Love it. I'll let you know how it goes...
2. A quick note on my identity: It has been a tremendous learning experience on a nearly revelatory level to be a Korean/Korean-American/America (I'm still grappling with all these different categories) back here in Korea. We have been told to wear this name tag so that the orientation site university summer students and administrators can recognize that we are with Fulbright (aka foreigners). Of course with those who are not Asian-American or Korean-American, that distinction can be made pretty immediately. But that's not the case with us who hold such phenotypic similarities, or more colloquially, us "Asians."
Here's a funny anecdote (funnier if told in person):
I enter the elevator on the 6th floor to get to the 2nd floor. Several native Korean students are in there chatting it up. They immediately notice my name tag, so naturally certain characteristics are attributed to me (as we all inevitably do as natural human beings in an effort to make sense of the situation and grasp the things we perceive); i.e. that I probably have no idea what they are about to say because, well, I'm a foreigner. Of course no one seems to notice that I have the most distinctly Korean name among all us "foreigners," but if one did notice, he obviously did not care.
We ETAs have been given CAPS keys, or all access-keys by the university for the duration of our stay as part of our dual protection under and abidance to both Korean and American laws (i.e. basic freedoms). This CAPS key is a sacred privilege on this campus because the curfew here is 11PM for all university students; if students stay out past then, they will not be allowed back into the campus and will have to spend the night off campus.
This happened to be the topic of this particular elevator ride, because I actually know a fair bit of Korean. I can comfortably pass as a reasonable Korean, knowing basic linguistic sensibilities and colloquial idiosyncrasies of this difficult language. But they didn't know that.
So they go off, swearing, cursing, dropping all kinds of F-bombs and cursing out the administrators for not giving them such access as well. Admittedly, it was both rather amusing and disheartening to listen to. After hearing them rant and spew diatribes, I stepped off the elevator before they since they were getting off on the first floor. As I walked out with that I'm-trying-to-be-cordial pursed-lip smile, they say with the broadest most beautiful and radiant smiles on their faces, "Bye bye!!!" as if they had just met with the President. It was incredible, the duplicity of their expressions; something I could not help but laugh and smile about of course.
But the moral of the story can be drawn out.
I have felt a stringent and unyielding binary of my identity that I had not in such diverse settings as my home in northern California or at Pomona College. Without the badge of foreignness (my Fulbright name tag), I am a Korean who is fluent, indistinguishable, and accustomed and attuned to all the traditions and histories and subtleties of this culture. But as soon as I put that name tag of around my neck, I reveal my American identity, my alien and estranging veil. I know, I know, I know this is a ridiculously absurd attempt at relating back to history, but my experience has become the closest thing to the Star of David that I'll hopefully ever experience because of the absolute authority with which that name tag has commanded the presuppositions and conceptions of others about my identity. I would hope that if you are reading this now you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't make this comparison lightly or humorously or even without having considered the deep inadequacies of this vain analysis. But I hope you can afford me your understanding as I try to negotiate myself in this vastly different context.
So many will say there can only be an advantage. Perhaps, if one were to be a complete idealist blind to the defects of such a one-sided view. Because there are costs to the immediate judgments that befall one, especially in a country that is so cosmopolitan and intrigued by the apparent, the visible. There can be tremendous misunderstandings and huge things taken for granted by both parties which, if assumed without persuasion will only lead to hurt feelings and damaged relationships.
Thus ostensibly I can use my apparent dualistic identity as a tool, as a means to achieve near utilitarian limits. And yet this seeming advantage can become the tool and means for others to gain and meet their needs, to take for granted the exhaustion and emotional wear-and-tear that results from the transformation between modes of identity and ultimately utilize my transmutable capacities for their own gain (i.e. "You can speak Korean, help me out here.")
Look, there are a lot of subtleties to this argument I'm foregoing I know. I know there are many things for which I must be grateful, and there are too many things to name. I know this is an utmost privilege and should be cherished. I do all of these things, genuinely and consciously.
I'm just saying that it can be difficult and tiring at times.
More to come; thanks for reading.
Best,
Yoon-Chan Kim
1. This week, the Korean Fulbright Commission (officially Korean-American Education Commission, or KAEC) is throwing a two-week English immersion camp to middle school and high school kids from around the country held at the same site. This is of course mostly for the students, but it has also become a great training ground for us the ETAs. As such we will be teaching our first classes to Korean students in these testing grounds with overall good students before we're throw into the real things.
The Temptations, 1964 (read on; there's a reason I posted this picture)
However, I also know that there is a great performance aspect to teaching and as I have been thinking about it as more of a performance, somehow I've become more comfortable with teaching. I'm really excited, actually; I'll try to put on a show for these kids, and try to keep them engaged for 50 minutes with a reasonable attempt at an improvised, interactive theater performance. I loved my acting class last semester and have always felt reasonably comfortable on stage so the territory--at least in this light--won't really be all that strange. I feel grateful to all my greatest, most influential and most memorable teachers because I've really been thinking back about them and what made their classes so memorable.
My first lesson is going to teach the students (English Language learners) about rhyme through the classic My Girl by The Temptations. Luckily, this is a song that excites me a lot so at least I will have my enthusiasm to fuel me along, if not hopefully the other students as well. If you listen to the songs, it's sheer poetry: I got so much honey the bees envy me, I've got a sweeter song that the birds in the tress... People don't write like that anymore! Love it. I'll let you know how it goes...
2. A quick note on my identity: It has been a tremendous learning experience on a nearly revelatory level to be a Korean/Korean-American/America (I'm still grappling with all these different categories) back here in Korea. We have been told to wear this name tag so that the orientation site university summer students and administrators can recognize that we are with Fulbright (aka foreigners). Of course with those who are not Asian-American or Korean-American, that distinction can be made pretty immediately. But that's not the case with us who hold such phenotypic similarities, or more colloquially, us "Asians."
Here's a funny anecdote (funnier if told in person):
I enter the elevator on the 6th floor to get to the 2nd floor. Several native Korean students are in there chatting it up. They immediately notice my name tag, so naturally certain characteristics are attributed to me (as we all inevitably do as natural human beings in an effort to make sense of the situation and grasp the things we perceive); i.e. that I probably have no idea what they are about to say because, well, I'm a foreigner. Of course no one seems to notice that I have the most distinctly Korean name among all us "foreigners," but if one did notice, he obviously did not care.
We ETAs have been given CAPS keys, or all access-keys by the university for the duration of our stay as part of our dual protection under and abidance to both Korean and American laws (i.e. basic freedoms). This CAPS key is a sacred privilege on this campus because the curfew here is 11PM for all university students; if students stay out past then, they will not be allowed back into the campus and will have to spend the night off campus.
This happened to be the topic of this particular elevator ride, because I actually know a fair bit of Korean. I can comfortably pass as a reasonable Korean, knowing basic linguistic sensibilities and colloquial idiosyncrasies of this difficult language. But they didn't know that.
So they go off, swearing, cursing, dropping all kinds of F-bombs and cursing out the administrators for not giving them such access as well. Admittedly, it was both rather amusing and disheartening to listen to. After hearing them rant and spew diatribes, I stepped off the elevator before they since they were getting off on the first floor. As I walked out with that I'm-trying-to-be-cordial pursed-lip smile, they say with the broadest most beautiful and radiant smiles on their faces, "Bye bye!!!" as if they had just met with the President. It was incredible, the duplicity of their expressions; something I could not help but laugh and smile about of course.But the moral of the story can be drawn out.
I have felt a stringent and unyielding binary of my identity that I had not in such diverse settings as my home in northern California or at Pomona College. Without the badge of foreignness (my Fulbright name tag), I am a Korean who is fluent, indistinguishable, and accustomed and attuned to all the traditions and histories and subtleties of this culture. But as soon as I put that name tag of around my neck, I reveal my American identity, my alien and estranging veil. I know, I know, I know this is a ridiculously absurd attempt at relating back to history, but my experience has become the closest thing to the Star of David that I'll hopefully ever experience because of the absolute authority with which that name tag has commanded the presuppositions and conceptions of others about my identity. I would hope that if you are reading this now you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't make this comparison lightly or humorously or even without having considered the deep inadequacies of this vain analysis. But I hope you can afford me your understanding as I try to negotiate myself in this vastly different context.
So many will say there can only be an advantage. Perhaps, if one were to be a complete idealist blind to the defects of such a one-sided view. Because there are costs to the immediate judgments that befall one, especially in a country that is so cosmopolitan and intrigued by the apparent, the visible. There can be tremendous misunderstandings and huge things taken for granted by both parties which, if assumed without persuasion will only lead to hurt feelings and damaged relationships.
Thus ostensibly I can use my apparent dualistic identity as a tool, as a means to achieve near utilitarian limits. And yet this seeming advantage can become the tool and means for others to gain and meet their needs, to take for granted the exhaustion and emotional wear-and-tear that results from the transformation between modes of identity and ultimately utilize my transmutable capacities for their own gain (i.e. "You can speak Korean, help me out here.")
Look, there are a lot of subtleties to this argument I'm foregoing I know. I know there are many things for which I must be grateful, and there are too many things to name. I know this is an utmost privilege and should be cherished. I do all of these things, genuinely and consciously.
I'm just saying that it can be difficult and tiring at times.
More to come; thanks for reading.
Best,
Yoon-Chan Kim
Friday, July 16, 2010
Log3: Race and a weekend Trip
Tomorrow we leave at 9:30AM to board the buses for a very long and winding road to a UNESCO World Heritage Site, Haeinsa. A national Korean treasure, the a Buddhist temple in the mountains is the home to Tripitaka Koreana, the whole of the Buddhist Scriptures carved onto more than 81,000 wooden printing blocks which has been there since 1398 (supposedly the first ever even before Guttenberg). Read more about it on Wiki here.
So I'll do the best I can, because it's 1:35AM here right now and I should really go to sleep very soon before the trip. But I do want to at least mention a couple of things.
Understand that due to gender-segregated dorms (strictly segregated), the guys have become quite comfortable with each other. Not sure how this serves a meaningful purpose to the following anecdote, but I'm sure a good liberal arts student can tie it back to this theme soon. I just can't be that right now.
Clint is the one African-American male in the entire ETA contingent (3 Af.Americans in all). He went to Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia and has been a great guy overall so far. The guys have all gotten pretty close to each other already and have become comfortable enough already to start cracking jokes.
This was funny, and is supposed to be funny. The following occurred, and is being retold, in good, but not trivial, jest.
Now understand that cafeteria food has been repetitive and bland, even if it's Korean food. No one holds its quality against any individual human being, but the desirability to eat in has been diminishing over time. Nearly every meal we just bite the bullet because the alternative is going to the village of a city and actually pay for a meal that is of limited variety, even if it's a bit tastier.
So lo-and-behold, we have what for dinner? Fried chicken. Fried chicken. We are American-cuisine-starved group of Americans who have seen nothing remotely close to something other than bap (rice) and the staple kim-chi (spicy fermented cabbage). Needless to say, we began to chow down.
Clint, the African-American shows up. He gets excited by the chicken. Then notices something that no one else noticed, which is that beside the tray full of fried chicken is a tray full of slices of watermelon. He comes up and says, "Dude, I am so excited by this chicken. But these workers were just trying, trying to get a reaction out of me." We laugh, Clint included; "How did they know to put the watermelon right next to the fried chicken?! Come ON!" I ask him, "do you like watermelon too then?" And he replied, "No I hate watermelon! It's just water and...crap." We burst out laughing, and he admits that "they got [him] with the chicken."
I know there are serious issues underpinning this short moment from which many of us laughed. It was of course a deep laughter, a less-than-comfortable one that embodied a tremendous obfuscation of historical, legal and social elements that have been embroiled in tension and injustice for centuries. One could deconstruct this very moment with biting acuity and without mercy, and frankly a part of me wish I had some exposure to such modes of thought if only to learn about that mode of thought. Books can and have been and will be written about these very moments, and I know that. And I am one to acknowledge the significance of these problems and the kinds of questions these incidents raise, and in the right setting engage in these discussions. But I am also one who picks his battles, and is willing to laugh every once in a while.
*sigh*
It was funnier at the time, that's all I'm trying to say. I guess it really fails miserably on paper.
The other thing I wanted to mention is this name tag that we have to constantly wear and its influence on my experience as a Korean/Korean-American/American.
(clearly) I am not very familiar with the politics of identity (distinct from "identity politics" which assumes the rigidity of identity rather than its fluidity and fluctuation), but I have been launched into the heart of this matter. I knew this when I signed the contract about 2 months ago, but that the reality has been striking goes without saying.
But alas, this is for another post, because I do have to really go to sleep.
I'll take pictures at the temple and post them when I get back! Hope all of you are well!
So I'll do the best I can, because it's 1:35AM here right now and I should really go to sleep very soon before the trip. But I do want to at least mention a couple of things.
Understand that due to gender-segregated dorms (strictly segregated), the guys have become quite comfortable with each other. Not sure how this serves a meaningful purpose to the following anecdote, but I'm sure a good liberal arts student can tie it back to this theme soon. I just can't be that right now.
Clint is the one African-American male in the entire ETA contingent (3 Af.Americans in all). He went to Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia and has been a great guy overall so far. The guys have all gotten pretty close to each other already and have become comfortable enough already to start cracking jokes.
This was funny, and is supposed to be funny. The following occurred, and is being retold, in good, but not trivial, jest.
Now understand that cafeteria food has been repetitive and bland, even if it's Korean food. No one holds its quality against any individual human being, but the desirability to eat in has been diminishing over time. Nearly every meal we just bite the bullet because the alternative is going to the village of a city and actually pay for a meal that is of limited variety, even if it's a bit tastier.
So lo-and-behold, we have what for dinner? Fried chicken. Fried chicken. We are American-cuisine-starved group of Americans who have seen nothing remotely close to something other than bap (rice) and the staple kim-chi (spicy fermented cabbage). Needless to say, we began to chow down.
Clint, the African-American shows up. He gets excited by the chicken. Then notices something that no one else noticed, which is that beside the tray full of fried chicken is a tray full of slices of watermelon. He comes up and says, "Dude, I am so excited by this chicken. But these workers were just trying, trying to get a reaction out of me." We laugh, Clint included; "How did they know to put the watermelon right next to the fried chicken?! Come ON!" I ask him, "do you like watermelon too then?" And he replied, "No I hate watermelon! It's just water and...crap." We burst out laughing, and he admits that "they got [him] with the chicken."
I know there are serious issues underpinning this short moment from which many of us laughed. It was of course a deep laughter, a less-than-comfortable one that embodied a tremendous obfuscation of historical, legal and social elements that have been embroiled in tension and injustice for centuries. One could deconstruct this very moment with biting acuity and without mercy, and frankly a part of me wish I had some exposure to such modes of thought if only to learn about that mode of thought. Books can and have been and will be written about these very moments, and I know that. And I am one to acknowledge the significance of these problems and the kinds of questions these incidents raise, and in the right setting engage in these discussions. But I am also one who picks his battles, and is willing to laugh every once in a while.
*sigh*
It was funnier at the time, that's all I'm trying to say. I guess it really fails miserably on paper.
The other thing I wanted to mention is this name tag that we have to constantly wear and its influence on my experience as a Korean/Korean-American/American.
(clearly) I am not very familiar with the politics of identity (distinct from "identity politics" which assumes the rigidity of identity rather than its fluidity and fluctuation), but I have been launched into the heart of this matter. I knew this when I signed the contract about 2 months ago, but that the reality has been striking goes without saying.
But alas, this is for another post, because I do have to really go to sleep.
I'll take pictures at the temple and post them when I get back! Hope all of you are well!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Log2: "CAC"s and the Dormitory
Alright, Tuesday 5:45PM and got some down time; unbelievable!
I've actually already been having "down time" for the past two hours, but had been working on 1. my first lesson plan and 2. this week's CAC, or "cultural adjustment check."
As a means to make sure we are adjusting well, the orientation coordinators (henceforth the "OC"s) e-mail us a weekly set of questions we must answer via e-mail. While they are a nuisance to many, they have actually allowed me to discover my deepest reflections upon my arrival and have provided me some time and space to just sit, absorb, and think. So if you really want to know what I'm actually thinking about, then CACs might be the place to go.
I will continue to post these on the "Cultural Adjustment Check" page on the right. Please feel free to read and comment!
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Thursday, July 14, 2010 1:56AM
I will continue to post these on the "Cultural Adjustment Check" page on the right. Please feel free to read and comment!
------------------------------------
Thursday, July 14, 2010 1:56AM
Alright, so unfortunately it's been a long day and it will only get longer tomorrow, but I do know that I want to at least share what my room/dormitory situation looks like.
The marble-floored and marble-walled hallway. This floor has all the men in the orientation.
The dorm room. My side is on the left, my roommate's is on the right. The central marble divider has windows for late night sleep secrets...which we haven't exploited yet.
My side of the room.
The entire bathroom is used as a shower stall, much like in European hostels. Such is the norm in Korean bathrooms.
The evidence: a drain under the sink. Really unnecessary picture, I know, but thought I would share.
Thanks for your patience. More fruitful reflections will come soon.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Log 1
Well, this is overdue.
Hello everyone, and welcome! This is my first official blog post of my year-long trip to Korea!
Since the moment our plane landed in my birth country on Sunday July 4, 2010 at 5AM - exactly one week ago - we have not had a moment's rest. We dove straight into language tests, language classes, speeches, teaching and cultural workshops. Needless to say, these past seven days have felt more like seven months.
There are 73 of us at this 7-week orientation, and I have met some tremendous people from all over the country, including Georgia, Montana, California, Boston, Oregon, and others. Many are recent graduates of college, including Harvard, Brown, Scranton, Pitzer, Georgia, USC, Illinois Urbana-Champagne, and Williams.
We are in Goesan of Chungcheongbuk do (region), a tiny rural city 3 hours south of the metropolis Seoul. Our orientation camp is being held at Jungwon University, a brand-new decadent structure that looks (and acts) a lot like a product of Pyongyang (capital of North Korea).
I'm sorry I can't say more for now, but today was our first real "break" day when we had some time to breathe. So I went on a hike with some of the Fulbright people, and here are some pictures to give you a sense of where I am (the hike was 5minutes walking distance from our school):
Our Hike! L->R: Janine, Erik, Ji-Soo (Jungwon student), David
Our Hike2
The view from the top...with me (the others got real pictures, so I'll upload them when I get them; the school is behind the high rise apartment on the right behind my head)
The barren street (the car is parked)
The other side
Drawing penises in unexpected locations seems to be a universal practice
Jungwon University sign and gate
Through the gate
The school
The ridiculous fountain in the middle of the school yard
The outrageous golf-course in front of the middle of the school yard
Here's a song a former teacher used for her students.
I sincerely hope you are all well. More to come soon!
-Yours Sincerely
Hello everyone, and welcome! This is my first official blog post of my year-long trip to Korea!
Since the moment our plane landed in my birth country on Sunday July 4, 2010 at 5AM - exactly one week ago - we have not had a moment's rest. We dove straight into language tests, language classes, speeches, teaching and cultural workshops. Needless to say, these past seven days have felt more like seven months.
There are 73 of us at this 7-week orientation, and I have met some tremendous people from all over the country, including Georgia, Montana, California, Boston, Oregon, and others. Many are recent graduates of college, including Harvard, Brown, Scranton, Pitzer, Georgia, USC, Illinois Urbana-Champagne, and Williams.
We are in Goesan of Chungcheongbuk do (region), a tiny rural city 3 hours south of the metropolis Seoul. Our orientation camp is being held at Jungwon University, a brand-new decadent structure that looks (and acts) a lot like a product of Pyongyang (capital of North Korea).
I'm sorry I can't say more for now, but today was our first real "break" day when we had some time to breathe. So I went on a hike with some of the Fulbright people, and here are some pictures to give you a sense of where I am (the hike was 5minutes walking distance from our school):
Our Hike! L->R: Janine, Erik, Ji-Soo (Jungwon student), David
Our Hike2
The view from the top...with me (the others got real pictures, so I'll upload them when I get them; the school is behind the high rise apartment on the right behind my head)
The barren street (the car is parked)
The other side
Drawing penises in unexpected locations seems to be a universal practice
Jungwon University sign and gate
Through the gate
The school
The ridiculous fountain in the middle of the school yard
The outrageous golf-course in front of the middle of the school yard
Here's a song a former teacher used for her students.
I sincerely hope you are all well. More to come soon!
-Yours Sincerely
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