Summer School, Take II

Somehow, during my tenure as a self-employed bum, I agreed to moonlight as a substitute teacher. Both Benjamin and my college roommate, Wendy, work this summer for what Benjamin described as a "Korean academic boot camp," and I let him talk me into subbing. After all, coming on the heels of an inner city middle school, how bad could 5-9 Korean children be?

The answer was, much as I suspected, not very. I found myself more concerned about whether they were learning and I was following correct instructional procedure than whether they were going to kill each other or start a riot. That's not how it usually goes. I handed them packets of work, and they proceeded to complete the packets, without question or comment. What?

On the other hand, they presented, even in three hours, some new challenges. At least 4 of my 7 fifth grade readers knew Korean better than English and spoke in Korean. I like to be able to understand what students are saying; especially with a culture whose expressions are stoic compared to much of America, understanding words helps me take the emotional pulse of a classroom. Also, it made for an interesting dynamic, because the English speakers and the Korean speakers had very different ways of processing vocabulary words. Just like with my children this past year, they lacked a good deal of the cultural literacy that informed the packets, but unlike with my former students, I didn't know their frame of reference well enough to help them contextualize their new ideas.

After 2 hours with fifth graders, I had a group of five third graders. Besides being adorable, they were smart and enjoyed doing the work. One of them had a hard time remembering my name and told me that she remembered Korean names better. I told her I understood -- I had a hard time remembering Korean names.

Finally, as I stopped to chat with Benjamin on the way out, we had the moment of truth. I'm used to being one of the few white people at a school and watching students process this fact. Here I came across the greatest difference between my Korean students and my African American students. No one asked if he was my brother or cousin. They asked if I was his girlfriend.