Back in the (student) saddle again...

I got to thinking about my professional history, and I wondered just how long I have been a teacher. So I did the math. I taught my first language class somewhere around 2000, which means that I have been a language teacher for 12 years or more. Seriously?  I had to pause a moment. Take in the shock. 12 years? Really? It doesn’t feel that long. Wow. 

As a teacher, the classroom is place of expertise. Of authority. You make the syllabus. You make the rules. You lead the pack. Well… at least you try. When you first get started, you are somewhat like a new driver; feeling like the car is driving you. As you get more practice, however, you grab the steering wheel and drive more confidently. Drive a little faster.  Amazing what a little bit of practice can achieve. 

What I believe to be even more relevant, however, is that as the teacher of the class, you are already in control of the material you are teaching. Even if you’re not an expert on all elements of it, you probably had access to the textbook in advance and have had the opportunity to prep. If you gave yourself sufficient time, then you had the time to make yourself expert enough to pull off a good show.  It means that in information exchange, you are the GIVER while the students are the RECEIVERS.  And you make the tests. That’s always a good start.

As the student, however, none of this is true. Most students enter the classroom with little to no background knowledge (at least at the intro level of classes) and rely heavily on the teacher to supply what they need for success. How the teacher provides said information is a high priority to the student. 

Why is this all coming up now? I’m so glad you asked. 

 I recently attended my first Korean class. Korean 101. Yup, little old me. And oh, the emphasis on the “old”. When the kid next to me commented on his upcoming high school graduation, I felt like a dinosaur. Sigh. My 20 year reunion is approaching. 

Day 1 of class is always a bit lacking in fluidity, even with the best of teachers. Fluidity requires routine and no routine has been established yet. The students are mostly strangers to each other and the teacher is busy ironing out the bugs.  The silence is sort of uncomfortable, but very common. Sitting at the desk in the silent room, I felt it from the student perspective for the first time in a long time. 

And then class got started.

Most of you probably know that Korean is based upon a totally different set of characters. Listening to the teacher, taking notes and copying down the brand new characters took every brain cell I have and many of these brain cells have been blissfully dormant for quite some time. I left that class tired… but in a great way. Like the body ache of a good gym workout. 

The coolest part, though, is that I had fun doing the homework. We are told to copy a symbol chart five times, for practice. I took pauses between copies to try and memorize. Then, just to improve my odd, I made flashcards and have been quizzing myself on and off for 2 days. I’m getting pretty good at it. At least at recognizing. Writing on command will come next. 

My kids are 4 now, and they are learning to write letters in preschool. They aren’t bad at it, to be totally honest. It’s not surprising. They adore their books and have started to become truly aware of the way their world is laden with words. Street signs, business names, labels on packages in stores. You name it, they notice it. And I am reminded that there is nothing intuitive about the shape our letters, connecting them to the sound they make. It’s simple memorization. Why should a shape like “A” contain inherent connection to an ahhhhh sound? Because we said so, that’s why. 

I’ll have to remember that, as my kids start the process of pre-reading, gain independence with their books.

Maybe I’ll learn to read Korean as they are learning English. Wouldn’t that be ironic?