So for the past 3 days, I've been working with PCF, helping to orientate the new kids into the school and the culture. I don't hate children, so the job seemed pretty suitable for me. I mean when I first heard the job scope, I thought that handing out tissue paper to the children was a fairly easy job for me.
Until I eventually entered the job for real on Tuesday.
I guess the first thing I really noticed was that my job scope extended far beyond that. Not that I minded, I mean, I did expect that handling children would be nothing short of tiring, but this was truly the first time I was interacting and handling children- and having to discipline them. That wasn't my forte and never was. I got along well with the children I've encountered in tour groups when families have little kids, but having to get them to listen to you without parental supervision is a whole new story altogether.
To put it simply, I got kicked and scratched my the children who refused to listen to me (WHYYY), especially children whom I *think* have ADHD and whom cannot sit still for more than 3 seconds. And that was only the beginnning. Since the centre was extremely new, they were slightly shorthanded and I was put in charge of a k1 class- Class Kiwi 1, to be exact. The other teacher who would be conducting the other k1 class was this really petite and pretty chinese teacher in charge of Cherry 1. My class started off with 8 children on the first day and gradually grew to 11 by the third day as we became more and more familiar with the children (because some of the children didn't know if they were Nursery/K1/K2/K+, so many children were often shuffled into the wrong classrooms during orientation, but eventually found the right classroom in the end, to much disarray and screaming. )
Suddenly, I found myself with 11 children under my care, most of whom couldn't speak very well. To complicate matters further a lot of the children didn't know how to raise their hands when they were called or even more confusingly, didn't know how to pronounce/read/say their names. It took a lot of patience ( which I'm, again, not very good at) to finally coax a name out of a kid. Then I had to make them participate in games/songs and dance with me, which was a total disaster because my method was totally off and I just couldn't capture their attention long enough. There'd be 3 to 4 children sitting around me listening (and these were usually the ones who could speak and write English fluently), and the rest of the children would be running around and doing their own thing. It frustrated me. Alot. It was the same with song and dance. I don't know how the other teachers did it, but well, I felt like a complete failure.
I guess my method of teaching was wrong to begin with. On the very first day with the first 8 children, I was really lax with them. My mentality was this- if the children weren't getting into trouble and they weren't annoying others and immediate danger, I saw no reason to intervene with what they were doing. And they took advantage of that and climbed over my head- Literally. On the 2nd day, however, I looked at the other teacher's children and then it hit me- the children there were really well behaved and quiet while my class sounded and felt like a madhouse. So I picked up the tough approach. I tried to be firm and to shout at them, which worked for a bit, but then the children realised I was just acting tough and started to bully me again. It frustrated me, angered me and annoyed me, but as usual, I just didn't tell anyone. At one point in the 'lesson', I was just so #*@!^&@%$ frustrated with the children I literally stood helplessly against the wall listening to the noise the kids were making and snapped. Not outwardly, because I didn't want the children to see me, but sufficient for the other teacher to walk over and kindly take over the class for me while I went to take a breather. For that moment I just didn't want to deal with children anymore. not their screaming, yelling, punching, etc.
And that was only the 3rd day. I didn't even know whether I wanted to continue with this job, because it was wearing the hell out of me so badly chasing kids around, force feeding them, making sure they didn't fight, didn't hurt each other, the list goes on. But I knew that I don't have a choice, I mean, yes, I can change jobs, but seriously, what kind of person am I going to be if I job-hop and what does this reflect on my future? I don't want to make this a habit, and whatever it is, I will never resort to drinking to drown my sorrows because that's a silly method and that, obviously, doesn't solve anything because problems will always persist when we grow sober anyway. Plus imagine the magnification of my hangover caused by the screaming and loud noises if I go to work with a hangover? Yeah.
Whatever it may be, I know that I want to continue with this job, anyway. Even if it gives me the worst headaches when I come back home, even when I have to go to work slightly sick because some children aren't completely well when they come to school, even when I snap at work and I die inside when I see the children misbehave. Because, it's cliche, I know, but this is one of the most rewarding jobs I could ever have. I remember this little kid once saying to me, as she left the centre, " Teacher Julyn, I love you!" and then she kissed my hand. That was a pretty defining moment, I guess, and that's probably also the reason why all the other teachers stay despite yelling till we're all blue in the face and constantly want to strangle them. Alot of the time, those crappy moments, I find myself thinking of Chu and going, you're going to be a mother someday, anyway. Or I find myself thinking of Chu, when the children have their own free time to play and while I'm supervising them, and going, I miss you. At least you don't have to deal with this mess.
I guess despite everything, I still love those kids, and though I hate having to deal with the discipline issues, I'll stay.
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