So I'm going to try using Google Calendar to schedule what Maxine, Quinten and I do while in Kansas this summer. I will try to keep this updated, so that you can see when we have free time if you want to invite us over.
I seem to be having trouble with the time zones! If you see your event at some early hour in the morning on the wrong day, just subtract 14 hours. That should fix it. For example, RCCP is on the 25th in the evening, and Townsend is on the 30th in the evening. Trying to fix it!
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When Three People Ask... (Faith Journey pt. 1)
On three consecutive days I was asked for the same story by three friends, each from further back than the last. The first made me happy, th...
Saturday, June 07, 2014
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Good Friday
This isn't really about the Christian events of Good Friday, but about how this Friday was a Good Friday for me.
My last class of the week is a night class on Friday night, meets from 8:40 until 10:20. The students are English Tourism majors, and you can tell this is a frighteningly popular time for class, because I usually have five out of the six students enrolled. The class is supposed to be an extra conversation class, in addition to their regular conversation class, so these students have two-hour classes twice a week, with a different foreign teacher each time.
The third week of class I had a student show up for the first time. This is not at all unusual for my university, though this class was regular enough that we had gotten into a rhythm, in which the students were comfortable with my speaking speed, and I felt like they were understanding a reasonable amount of what I was saying.
But this new student, I will use her initials: EK, was working at a different level. A much lower level. Much. Lower.
She was the kind of low that required translation. I couldn't speak English slowly, simply or clearly enough for her to understand it. And if you've never met me, please believe that I can do slow and simple, though the jury is still out on clear.
She was literally afraid of me; she said so. (In Korean, of course.) I tried to gear the class down to her level, but it was like hitting the interstate in 1st gear, including the loud whining sound and the smell of burning oil. (That smell may have been in my imagination.)
I did find out about her situation: like the other students, she is in her sophomore year. However, she was a freshman six years ago, so it's safe to say she didn't remember much from her previous English classes. Frankly, I wonder how she passed back then. Probably a combination of cuteness and persistence. Currently she is not working, just taking some night classes to finish her degree.
I told her the painful truth: I'm a pretty decent teacher, but my class and one other two-hour class per week just aren't going to boost her (or anyone else's) English level significantly. Not without some significant participation from the student, anyway. I suggested that she should enroll in an English conversation institute (hagwon) that has classes every day for an hour, maybe even two. I guaranteed that if she did so the improvements would be quick and noticeable.
She has been in class since then, but I've mostly left her to her own devices, occasionally startling her with a "Boo!" because how awesome is it that someone in the world is actually afraid of me?
This past week was my midterm. One other student was absent, but EK showed up. I was feeling pretty pessimistic, and so was she. She finished last, and I tried to reassure her that just glancing over it, it seemed very likely that she passed. I offered to grade it on the spot, and she stayed.
She got an 89, which surprised the heck out of me. And her! (It turns out she had the lowest grade in the class, though the absent student may give her some competition in that respect. I believe the others scored 93, 96, 99 and 100. But there is no student I am more proud of this semester than EK.)
She told me she had taken my advice, and was attending a 3-month course at a popular English conversation institute. (Jeong-Cheol, if you are interested.) She had also spent the past week preparing for my exam. So far it is working.
This made me (perhaps) unreasonably happy. Seeing someone improve at my direction, even if I am not the main tool to evoke that change made me happy, almost giddy.
When she left, I stayed to grade the rest of the papers. After she closed the door behind her I heard her footsteps as she ran down the hall. I imagine she was proud, perhaps still a bit nervous, and maybe as giddy as I was.
That was my Good Friday. I got one of those rare moments in teaching: evidence that I am effective.
Happy Easter to you all. American culture has it all wrong: Christmas is not really about giving, it's about hope. The biggest gift ever was given on the cross, and Christians are called to give of their own lives, (though seldom in as dramatically) as Jesus did. I could have encouraged EK to go home, settle for a C. I could have even promised her a B if I never had to see her again, and believe me, the thought did cross my mind. Instead, I went past the easy way out, the cruel and simple option of telling her to give up. I gave her my attention. I gave her the best advice I could. I gave her encouragement whenever she came to class. So even though this story came to fruition on Good Friday, it's appropriate that I am posting it on Easter, a day of new life and some serious giving.
My last class of the week is a night class on Friday night, meets from 8:40 until 10:20. The students are English Tourism majors, and you can tell this is a frighteningly popular time for class, because I usually have five out of the six students enrolled. The class is supposed to be an extra conversation class, in addition to their regular conversation class, so these students have two-hour classes twice a week, with a different foreign teacher each time.
The third week of class I had a student show up for the first time. This is not at all unusual for my university, though this class was regular enough that we had gotten into a rhythm, in which the students were comfortable with my speaking speed, and I felt like they were understanding a reasonable amount of what I was saying.
But this new student, I will use her initials: EK, was working at a different level. A much lower level. Much. Lower.
She was the kind of low that required translation. I couldn't speak English slowly, simply or clearly enough for her to understand it. And if you've never met me, please believe that I can do slow and simple, though the jury is still out on clear.
She was literally afraid of me; she said so. (In Korean, of course.) I tried to gear the class down to her level, but it was like hitting the interstate in 1st gear, including the loud whining sound and the smell of burning oil. (That smell may have been in my imagination.)
I did find out about her situation: like the other students, she is in her sophomore year. However, she was a freshman six years ago, so it's safe to say she didn't remember much from her previous English classes. Frankly, I wonder how she passed back then. Probably a combination of cuteness and persistence. Currently she is not working, just taking some night classes to finish her degree.
I told her the painful truth: I'm a pretty decent teacher, but my class and one other two-hour class per week just aren't going to boost her (or anyone else's) English level significantly. Not without some significant participation from the student, anyway. I suggested that she should enroll in an English conversation institute (hagwon) that has classes every day for an hour, maybe even two. I guaranteed that if she did so the improvements would be quick and noticeable.
She has been in class since then, but I've mostly left her to her own devices, occasionally startling her with a "Boo!" because how awesome is it that someone in the world is actually afraid of me?
This past week was my midterm. One other student was absent, but EK showed up. I was feeling pretty pessimistic, and so was she. She finished last, and I tried to reassure her that just glancing over it, it seemed very likely that she passed. I offered to grade it on the spot, and she stayed.
She got an 89, which surprised the heck out of me. And her! (It turns out she had the lowest grade in the class, though the absent student may give her some competition in that respect. I believe the others scored 93, 96, 99 and 100. But there is no student I am more proud of this semester than EK.)
She told me she had taken my advice, and was attending a 3-month course at a popular English conversation institute. (Jeong-Cheol, if you are interested.) She had also spent the past week preparing for my exam. So far it is working.
This made me (perhaps) unreasonably happy. Seeing someone improve at my direction, even if I am not the main tool to evoke that change made me happy, almost giddy.
When she left, I stayed to grade the rest of the papers. After she closed the door behind her I heard her footsteps as she ran down the hall. I imagine she was proud, perhaps still a bit nervous, and maybe as giddy as I was.
That was my Good Friday. I got one of those rare moments in teaching: evidence that I am effective.
Happy Easter to you all. American culture has it all wrong: Christmas is not really about giving, it's about hope. The biggest gift ever was given on the cross, and Christians are called to give of their own lives, (though seldom in as dramatically) as Jesus did. I could have encouraged EK to go home, settle for a C. I could have even promised her a B if I never had to see her again, and believe me, the thought did cross my mind. Instead, I went past the easy way out, the cruel and simple option of telling her to give up. I gave her my attention. I gave her the best advice I could. I gave her encouragement whenever she came to class. So even though this story came to fruition on Good Friday, it's appropriate that I am posting it on Easter, a day of new life and some serious giving.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
My reaction to stress
I have decided that on this occasion of my 24th birthday, instead of spending the next 30 minutes doing the dishes before going to work, I will do the Roblog:
In times of trouble I tend to stop communicating with the people around me.
In times of trouble I tend to stop communicating with the people around me.
This is not because I don't need people in general, or want to keep my problems super-secret, but because I am more introverted than I usually show. Dealing with people is draining for me, though not as much as with the serious introverts. (They are the ones spread out over there not looking at each other.)
As much as I like writing, sometimes the idea of spreading my mind out on a board and pinning it up for display is not as attractive as it sounds. But I believe that doing so lightens the soul, and perhaps helps to lighten the burdens of others. So...
In October Horyon found out that her teaching contract would be renewed for at most one year, perhaps not even that. She also found out that there was another job opening at the school at which her father used to be the principal. Check my post from November for details.
From the time of that posting, the stress kept building. She passed the history test (short lived relief), and started prepping for the English and Teaching Pedagogy tests, which were scheduled for the same day and made the history test seem relatively simple.
When she came home from the big test, I thought it was behind us, but it clung to us like a vicious spider monkey, pulling our hair and snatching the food out of our hands. For starters, the online forum in which the people who took the tests discussed their answers, the grading, and all the other details of the test. The test-takers were allowed to keep the pages with the questions, but the grading of the test is a black box out of which comes only a score. If I hadn't been living in Korea for so long, I would have called it unbelievably unprofessional. So call it cungly unprofessional.
I felt like we had just finished a marathon, stopped for a breather, and heard the sound of hounds at our heels.
Eventually we found the the results were a typical mix of good news and bad news: the bad news was that her score was not good enough to be hired as a permanent teacher. The good news is that none of the candidates were good enough to be hired as permanent teachers. The resulting bad news was that three or four of them were hired, and the administration decided to make one or two of them permanent after a year of seeing how they work.
As a mother who wants to spend some time with her children during the week, Horyon is at a disadvantage. Some of those candidates are staying until 9 p.m. every day to show their dedication. Horyon has been put in charge of testing for freshmen, a data analysis and preparation job that will keep her busy this year. It seems that if she knocks this one out of the park she may be made permanent. She found a way for me to help her chances as well: twice a month I will be teaching a Saturday "club activity" class at her school. It will be students who signed up for it, but everyone has to sign up for some activity. I have no idea how this will be, other than busy.
My goal is to take this job as a blessing, and a chance to bless Horyon. If I am there, she can be home with the kids, and her school won't ask both mother and father to come on the same Saturday. I haven't had to wake up early on a Saturday for that yet, so it's still pretty easy to be positive about it.
Just stopping to breathe here. I hate going whiny on you like this, but I promise that there is a silver lining coming up.
In addition, God has taken an opportunity to teach me about what I should pray for, and which problems I should not worry so much about and trust to God's good will:
I am planning to take Maxine and Quinten to Kansas this summer. By myself. Horyon just can't get away for long enough during the summer to be worth an $1800 plane ticket. Even so, I had little idea how to pay for the tickets. We have money in the States from the sale of our former home, but spending a big chunk of it like that is tricky, and our credit card here was maxed out.
Did you catch that "was"? It's important.
So instead of praying about it, I decided to do something about it: I committed to teach at an elementary school this year, twice a week for four hours at a time. It would have enabled us to save enough money to pay off the card, freeing up the card to buy plane tickets, and pay off the plane tickets by mid fall.
One week into the semester and elementary school job, Horyon got her severance pay from the high school at which she just finished working. It was almost $9,000. Enough to pay off the card and pay for most of the plane tickets. It took a few days for it to sink in, but I eventually realized that God had answered the prayer that I was supposed to be praying, providing for a need that I took upon myself to take care of.
And now I am paying the price. The elementary job is not too hard, but eight hours of teaching each week, plus an extra hour or so of commuting by bike (doubled if it's raining and I have to take the subway) means that I have to teach two night classes at KIT, so Maxine and Quinten are spending more evening time at Horyon's parents home, not with me or Horyon. It's actually more accurate to say that my family is paying the price for my lack of faith.
Now for the silver lining:
The stress of the past six months was becoming unbearable. I have also been witness to two more couples, friends of mine, going through marital difficulties. I was crying out to God, gravitating to the Psalms about how much life sucks, but also how gracious God is through suckiness (my paraphrase), when a friend recommended a book called Sacred Marriage by Gary L. Thomas. (It's only $3 for the Kindle edition at Amazon right now! I paid $8 for it! If you are married, or think you may be married sometime, go get it!). It changed the way I viewed marriage in general and my marriage specifically.
I'm not sure if I ever thought of my marriage as a chance to be a servant. I considered serving my wife to be something done as a quid pro quo, part of "the deal" of marriage: I serve you, you serve me, we serve the kids, and hopefully they take care of us when we're old and even more feeble than we are now.
Just a contract, of sorts. And of course it was built on love, and in front of God, and all that, but those were just details. During the past few months I have come to learn that those details lead to the greater potential truth of marriage: it is a series of opportunities to better see myself and my sins, my selfishness, my pettiness. The way Horyon knows me is still just a shadow of the way God knows me, but it's closer than anyone else has known me since I was young and living with my parents.
Let me reassure my single friends that it is not my intention to say that you cannot reach spiritual maturity without marriage. But for me, living single was leading me down some self-destructive paths that I may never have left without Horyon.
I am having serious trouble putting this revelation into words, people: I am finding that stress on our marriage is breaking me to God's will, rather than just breaking me. I am turning to God, rather than my wife for basic sustenance. And I know, I knew that depending on people rather than God was a recipe for disaster, but there is knowing at an intellectual level, then there is knowing at the gut level, where you make the snap decisions.
Our life is not perfect, but God is good.
I still have no claim to understand God. Now we see God dimly, as in a dirty, scratched bare metal mirror. Then we shall see God face to face. But prayer, reading the Bible and taking counsel from those wiser than I helps me to polish the mirror, maybe bang a dent or two out.
I need to get going. I've gone well over my allotted 30 minutes, and will have to rush some food before starting class in 42 minutes, but my birthday feels more complete for taking the time to let you know how I am doing.
In October Horyon found out that her teaching contract would be renewed for at most one year, perhaps not even that. She also found out that there was another job opening at the school at which her father used to be the principal. Check my post from November for details.
From the time of that posting, the stress kept building. She passed the history test (short lived relief), and started prepping for the English and Teaching Pedagogy tests, which were scheduled for the same day and made the history test seem relatively simple.
When she came home from the big test, I thought it was behind us, but it clung to us like a vicious spider monkey, pulling our hair and snatching the food out of our hands. For starters, the online forum in which the people who took the tests discussed their answers, the grading, and all the other details of the test. The test-takers were allowed to keep the pages with the questions, but the grading of the test is a black box out of which comes only a score. If I hadn't been living in Korea for so long, I would have called it unbelievably unprofessional. So call it cungly unprofessional.
I felt like we had just finished a marathon, stopped for a breather, and heard the sound of hounds at our heels.
Eventually we found the the results were a typical mix of good news and bad news: the bad news was that her score was not good enough to be hired as a permanent teacher. The good news is that none of the candidates were good enough to be hired as permanent teachers. The resulting bad news was that three or four of them were hired, and the administration decided to make one or two of them permanent after a year of seeing how they work.
As a mother who wants to spend some time with her children during the week, Horyon is at a disadvantage. Some of those candidates are staying until 9 p.m. every day to show their dedication. Horyon has been put in charge of testing for freshmen, a data analysis and preparation job that will keep her busy this year. It seems that if she knocks this one out of the park she may be made permanent. She found a way for me to help her chances as well: twice a month I will be teaching a Saturday "club activity" class at her school. It will be students who signed up for it, but everyone has to sign up for some activity. I have no idea how this will be, other than busy.
My goal is to take this job as a blessing, and a chance to bless Horyon. If I am there, she can be home with the kids, and her school won't ask both mother and father to come on the same Saturday. I haven't had to wake up early on a Saturday for that yet, so it's still pretty easy to be positive about it.
Just stopping to breathe here. I hate going whiny on you like this, but I promise that there is a silver lining coming up.
In addition, God has taken an opportunity to teach me about what I should pray for, and which problems I should not worry so much about and trust to God's good will:
I am planning to take Maxine and Quinten to Kansas this summer. By myself. Horyon just can't get away for long enough during the summer to be worth an $1800 plane ticket. Even so, I had little idea how to pay for the tickets. We have money in the States from the sale of our former home, but spending a big chunk of it like that is tricky, and our credit card here was maxed out.
Did you catch that "was"? It's important.
So instead of praying about it, I decided to do something about it: I committed to teach at an elementary school this year, twice a week for four hours at a time. It would have enabled us to save enough money to pay off the card, freeing up the card to buy plane tickets, and pay off the plane tickets by mid fall.
One week into the semester and elementary school job, Horyon got her severance pay from the high school at which she just finished working. It was almost $9,000. Enough to pay off the card and pay for most of the plane tickets. It took a few days for it to sink in, but I eventually realized that God had answered the prayer that I was supposed to be praying, providing for a need that I took upon myself to take care of.
And now I am paying the price. The elementary job is not too hard, but eight hours of teaching each week, plus an extra hour or so of commuting by bike (doubled if it's raining and I have to take the subway) means that I have to teach two night classes at KIT, so Maxine and Quinten are spending more evening time at Horyon's parents home, not with me or Horyon. It's actually more accurate to say that my family is paying the price for my lack of faith.
Now for the silver lining:
The stress of the past six months was becoming unbearable. I have also been witness to two more couples, friends of mine, going through marital difficulties. I was crying out to God, gravitating to the Psalms about how much life sucks, but also how gracious God is through suckiness (my paraphrase), when a friend recommended a book called Sacred Marriage by Gary L. Thomas. (It's only $3 for the Kindle edition at Amazon right now! I paid $8 for it! If you are married, or think you may be married sometime, go get it!). It changed the way I viewed marriage in general and my marriage specifically.
I'm not sure if I ever thought of my marriage as a chance to be a servant. I considered serving my wife to be something done as a quid pro quo, part of "the deal" of marriage: I serve you, you serve me, we serve the kids, and hopefully they take care of us when we're old and even more feeble than we are now.
Just a contract, of sorts. And of course it was built on love, and in front of God, and all that, but those were just details. During the past few months I have come to learn that those details lead to the greater potential truth of marriage: it is a series of opportunities to better see myself and my sins, my selfishness, my pettiness. The way Horyon knows me is still just a shadow of the way God knows me, but it's closer than anyone else has known me since I was young and living with my parents.
Let me reassure my single friends that it is not my intention to say that you cannot reach spiritual maturity without marriage. But for me, living single was leading me down some self-destructive paths that I may never have left without Horyon.
I am having serious trouble putting this revelation into words, people: I am finding that stress on our marriage is breaking me to God's will, rather than just breaking me. I am turning to God, rather than my wife for basic sustenance. And I know, I knew that depending on people rather than God was a recipe for disaster, but there is knowing at an intellectual level, then there is knowing at the gut level, where you make the snap decisions.
Our life is not perfect, but God is good.
I still have no claim to understand God. Now we see God dimly, as in a dirty, scratched bare metal mirror. Then we shall see God face to face. But prayer, reading the Bible and taking counsel from those wiser than I helps me to polish the mirror, maybe bang a dent or two out.
I need to get going. I've gone well over my allotted 30 minutes, and will have to rush some food before starting class in 42 minutes, but my birthday feels more complete for taking the time to let you know how I am doing.
Saturday, March 01, 2014
Random Pictures
This is not my usual style, but from time to time I feel inclined to throw Uncle Bob a bone. In spite of being on vacation, I have not felt one bit inclined to write. But if a picture is worth a thousand words, I've just racked up 20,000 right here.
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| Quinten enjoys chocolate. |
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| I enjoy a burger so large I had to use a fork and knife to eat it. Yes, there is an over-easy fried egg embedded in that awesome burger. |
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| Maxine enjoys (?) a boa constrictor. Horyon didn't enjoy this very much either. |
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| Not sure how this summer pic got in here, but doesn't it warm your heart? |
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| Maxine's teacher for the past two years, Aran. |
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| Chinese candy: better for photos than eating. |
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| Souvenir of our vacation, enjoying cho-bap with Maxine. |
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| Outfit by Horyon. Yes, she spent an evening sewing! |
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| Not as charming at this scale, though Quinten is willing to give a high-five. |
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| I can't believe my little boy is already driving! |
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| I love horses. |
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| Riding the train. |
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| Just plain cute. |
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| Giddap. |
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| Love those giant teddy bears. Really. |
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| End of the day at the water park. Anyone look tired? |
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| The view from our hotel room. |
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| Our hotel lobby. |
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| Last day of vacation. |
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| Couldn't quite get Quinten to buy into this one. |
Wednesday, February 05, 2014
Sunday School Lesson
Sorry, this isn't a real update on our lives. It's a piece of my latest Sunday School lesson, based on 1 Corinthians 13:4. The kids cut out the pieces (after coloring the pictures) and put them together in their workbooks. I was pretty happy with the way it turned out, but didn't take any pictures.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Just the Facts, Ma'am, Just the Facts.
It is testing time again, but this time it is my test. I have time to write because my students are spread out, well behaved, and still right in front of me if I just look over the computer monitor.
My Uncle Bob complimented me on my last post, but asked for pictures of the kids. Though I am writing this in the afternoon at school, I will post it later tonight from my home PC and tack on some pictures. They will not match up with much of what I am posting, but that's OK.
No deep thoughts today. My brain is not working in deep levels right now. As Friday says, "Just the facts, Ma'am, just the facts."
Right. As if any human being were capable of delivering facts completely divorced from emotion and interpretation. Even spreadsheets reveal the expectations of their creators, how much more so our words?
Fact: Horyon is taking a big, important test on December 8th. This test is on education in general, and English specifically. Not the fun kind of English where you communicate ideas and understand the viewpoints of those who have passed before, but phonology, the esoteric specifics of grammar, and the intricacies of translating complicated, stand-alone sentences from English into Korean. And spelling, I think.
Fact: Horyon took a big, important test on October 26th, just three weeks ago. This test was on Korean history, covering... I don't know. I assume it goes all the way back to when Koreans invented the knife, fire and kimchi.
Fact: These tests are necessary for her to change positions from a temporary teacher to a permanent teacher. In Korean schools, temporary teachers can be released from their contracts at the end of the school year for no reason. Permanent teachers have the metaphorical brass ring, and may continue the ride until they turn 65. Firing them is difficult unless they have done something very foolish. Permanent teachers pay into a pension fund that is quite generous, while temporary teachers pay into a giant envelope under a giant mattress, I believe. (I am willing to concede that this may not be an actual, true fact.) Permanent teachers get to rock around the clock, shake their booty, feel the noize, get jiggy with it, and produce milkshakes which are indubitably better than yours. Temporary teachers are low-quality Kenny G. covers. In other words, these tests are Important with a capital I.
Fact: Horyon does not take any tests lightly. She's like the academic equivalent of a hard-boiled detective with brass knuckles in one pocket and a snub-nosed pistol in the other. She figures out what she needs to know, then grabs its throat like a bull dog, never letting go until it is either limp in her grasp or she is called back by her master, Time: the master of us all. For these Important tests, she is dialing it up to 11.
Fact: Studying in the Sack Family home is difficult, due to the affections and needs for affection from the two shortest members of the family. (Though Maxine may be looking to move up in the height rankings within the next couple of years.) Our kids play well together for stretches of time, sometimes upwards of ten minutes without yelling, hitting or crying. However, they frequently do things which seem to require the attention of a parent. Sometimes this requirement is of an urgent nature, to avoid serious bodily harm or rifts in time and space, and sometimes it is more of an emotional requirement. There are even occasional nutritional and medical requirements (e.g. snacks and owies). These requirements can sometimes be stalled by allowing them to view a DVD, but inevitably the period following that viewing is used to make up for the previous 90 minutes without interruption.
Fact: Horyon's parents' home has a computer room that does not get used much. It has a big desk. It is a good place to study. Horyon has been going to her parents home after work and staying there until 10 or 11 p.m. Sometimes later. Since they take care of the kids for some time every day, and feed them dinner three or four times a week, they get to see their mother during dinner time. Maybe even a little time before and after.
Fact: By the time Horyon comes home from studying, I have put the kids in bed and tried to get some housework done. Horyon has been awake for about 45 minutes longer than I have, but I am usually more tired.
Fact: I am carrying around decidedly more weight than Horyon is, while she is carrying around more cuteness than I am. I am also trying to do all of the dishes so that she does not have to. By itself, washing dishes is a soul-draining exercise for me, but listening to podcasts while doing it keeps me entertained enough to not mind the work and dishpan hands.
Fact: A normal day for us includes about 15 minutes of conversation, most of it just after or before one of is sleeping. We send a couple of text messages if needed, and talk on the phone if it is urgent. On a good day we will sit and talk after she gets home, adding another 15 minutes.
Fact: I miss my wife.
Well, there you go. How facty was that last one? Not very. But my last student is almost finished with her test, and I need to wrap this up.
I'll tack some pictures on before I post this. Horyon twisted or sprained her ankle on a school field trip, and she took a great picture of her foot while getting acupuncture treatment. Enjoy.
My Uncle Bob complimented me on my last post, but asked for pictures of the kids. Though I am writing this in the afternoon at school, I will post it later tonight from my home PC and tack on some pictures. They will not match up with much of what I am posting, but that's OK.
No deep thoughts today. My brain is not working in deep levels right now. As Friday says, "Just the facts, Ma'am, just the facts."
Right. As if any human being were capable of delivering facts completely divorced from emotion and interpretation. Even spreadsheets reveal the expectations of their creators, how much more so our words?
Fact: Horyon is taking a big, important test on December 8th. This test is on education in general, and English specifically. Not the fun kind of English where you communicate ideas and understand the viewpoints of those who have passed before, but phonology, the esoteric specifics of grammar, and the intricacies of translating complicated, stand-alone sentences from English into Korean. And spelling, I think.
Fact: Horyon took a big, important test on October 26th, just three weeks ago. This test was on Korean history, covering... I don't know. I assume it goes all the way back to when Koreans invented the knife, fire and kimchi.
Fact: These tests are necessary for her to change positions from a temporary teacher to a permanent teacher. In Korean schools, temporary teachers can be released from their contracts at the end of the school year for no reason. Permanent teachers have the metaphorical brass ring, and may continue the ride until they turn 65. Firing them is difficult unless they have done something very foolish. Permanent teachers pay into a pension fund that is quite generous, while temporary teachers pay into a giant envelope under a giant mattress, I believe. (I am willing to concede that this may not be an actual, true fact.) Permanent teachers get to rock around the clock, shake their booty, feel the noize, get jiggy with it, and produce milkshakes which are indubitably better than yours. Temporary teachers are low-quality Kenny G. covers. In other words, these tests are Important with a capital I.
Fact: Horyon does not take any tests lightly. She's like the academic equivalent of a hard-boiled detective with brass knuckles in one pocket and a snub-nosed pistol in the other. She figures out what she needs to know, then grabs its throat like a bull dog, never letting go until it is either limp in her grasp or she is called back by her master, Time: the master of us all. For these Important tests, she is dialing it up to 11.
Fact: Studying in the Sack Family home is difficult, due to the affections and needs for affection from the two shortest members of the family. (Though Maxine may be looking to move up in the height rankings within the next couple of years.) Our kids play well together for stretches of time, sometimes upwards of ten minutes without yelling, hitting or crying. However, they frequently do things which seem to require the attention of a parent. Sometimes this requirement is of an urgent nature, to avoid serious bodily harm or rifts in time and space, and sometimes it is more of an emotional requirement. There are even occasional nutritional and medical requirements (e.g. snacks and owies). These requirements can sometimes be stalled by allowing them to view a DVD, but inevitably the period following that viewing is used to make up for the previous 90 minutes without interruption.
Fact: Horyon's parents' home has a computer room that does not get used much. It has a big desk. It is a good place to study. Horyon has been going to her parents home after work and staying there until 10 or 11 p.m. Sometimes later. Since they take care of the kids for some time every day, and feed them dinner three or four times a week, they get to see their mother during dinner time. Maybe even a little time before and after.
Fact: By the time Horyon comes home from studying, I have put the kids in bed and tried to get some housework done. Horyon has been awake for about 45 minutes longer than I have, but I am usually more tired.
Fact: I am carrying around decidedly more weight than Horyon is, while she is carrying around more cuteness than I am. I am also trying to do all of the dishes so that she does not have to. By itself, washing dishes is a soul-draining exercise for me, but listening to podcasts while doing it keeps me entertained enough to not mind the work and dishpan hands.
Fact: A normal day for us includes about 15 minutes of conversation, most of it just after or before one of is sleeping. We send a couple of text messages if needed, and talk on the phone if it is urgent. On a good day we will sit and talk after she gets home, adding another 15 minutes.
Fact: I miss my wife.
Well, there you go. How facty was that last one? Not very. But my last student is almost finished with her test, and I need to wrap this up.
I'll tack some pictures on before I post this. Horyon twisted or sprained her ankle on a school field trip, and she took a great picture of her foot while getting acupuncture treatment. Enjoy.
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| Quinten's new favorite game: Pregnancy. |
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| Horyon's new favorite game: Needlework. |
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| Maxine's new favorite game: Spying. |
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| She has a combination of Rob and Horyon's teeth. |
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| Scary Monster! Quinten-made Mask! |
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| We scored us a Christmas tree! |
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| Maxine eating Japanese noodles that SHE MADE! IN JAPAN! She was so good they offered her a job! |
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| Sleeping for two. Don't worry, I took the pillow out after taking the picture. |
Friday, November 01, 2013
Where are you from? Really?
This week four of my classes have had to take mock TOEIC tests. The TOEIC (Test Of English for International Communication) is a 200 multiple-guess test with a 45 minute listening section and 45 minutes of reading questions. I don't know about the real deal, but our mock version's listening section is crazy difficult, and the reading comprehension part is riddled with mistakes.
My school sets the value of this test at 10% of the grade I give to my students. So I do. I tell them that if they put their name and student number on their paper I will give them 8 out of those 10 points. I then give 9 points to the students who score in the top 20% of each class and 10 points to those who score in the top 10%.
It is an embarrassing waste of time. I could be doing so much with this time, when the semester total is only 15 class sessions. Seems like a lot of time, but then you have to subtract this TOEIC test, the first day of classes with abysmal attendance, the midterm, the week off while the Korean professors give midterms, the final, festival, national holidays, and student field trips. This leaves some classes with a total of six teaching days, though some have as many as nine.
My favorite listening question so far: "What will kids receive when they sit on Santa's lap?" I'm sure it made sense in the context of the story, but I had to cover my laugh with a small cough.
Yes, I am writing this post in the middle of administering this mocked test.
I decided that it is a better use of my time than just reading on my Kindle, which I've done for the previous three classes. And so I am writing about Maxine's week off from school. (Her school has fall break this week.)
Maxine's friend at school is Japanese, and her visa was about to expire, so she had to renew it. Due to extremely clever planning by Korean Immigration, many foreigners living in Korea can only renew their visas at a Korean embassy or consulate. Since the definitions of embassy and consulate include being in another country, this means spending the money for a plane or boat ticket and accommodations as well as the visa fee itself. How is that for friendly and welcoming?
Anyway, Maxine's friend, Macheeyae (not sure of the spelling) has to renew her visa. She is travelling with her mother, Maxine and Macheeyae's teacher, and her son and mother. Since three adults were going, the ferry tickets are not expensive, and they are staying with relatives, they invited Maxine to come along. Horyon was not thrilled with the idea, wondering if the radiation could cause long-term health problems, but they are not going North, and are staying for just 3 days and 2 nights. I thought it sounded like a fantastic experience, and was actually kind of jealous: I didn't leave America until I was 24 years old, and now Maxine is taking in her third country.
They left Wednesday morning and should be back in Korea just about now (5:00 on Friday). I am excited to hear about her experience, though the 8-year-old point of view on these things is quite different from a more adult perspective. She was very excited about going, though she said she would miss us. I think it was probably more like an extended sleepover, with late nights and giggling and junk food. Maybe she will have some new favorite snacks from Japan?
Maxine already has some basic ideas about how Korea and America are different. While I was growing up, the idea of cultural differences was like knowing the difference between conditions on Earth and Mars: all theoretical. As I got older, the ideas grew as well, but I did not and could not really understand what culture was about until I left my own to live in another. Likewise, I did not really learn another language until I was in my 20's. (I don't count the 8 weeks of Spanish I took in jr. high. Lo siento Senora Elmer! Thank you Google Translate!) I consider myself to be more aware of the world at large than most people I grew up with, but Maxine and Quinten are growing up to be seriously international, citizens of the world! How can that not be exciting?
I imagine that when she grows up and people ask her "Where are you from?" she will either say, "I was just at the store." or, "When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much..." Because a straight answer to the intention of the question could get pretty complicated. And what sort of answer will her children give?
It makes me happy to realize that there are more and more people with complicated answers to this question. It takes me back to my Peace Corps days.
When I joined the Peace Corps in 1993 (20 years ago this month!) I learned that the Peace Corps was established with three goals (if you don't count siphoning off young dissidents): 1) training people to help themselves 2) teaching those people about Americans, and 3) teaching Americans about people in other countries. Though I haven't been in Nepal for many years, I feel like these goals have woven themselves into my life. I believe that this blog helps some of you to better understand Korea (3rd goal), my daily interactions help Koreans better understand Americans (1st goal), and one goal of my teaching is to help my students to know how to learn English, so that they can improve on their own.
In the end, the world will be a better place if more people better understand the world outside of their country's borders, because the better you understand someone, the harder it is to hate them and the easier it is to cooperate with them. That's my dream for my kids.
I believe that they will be attracted to the different because wherever they go they will be the different. When they see conflict their first reaction is to build bridges, not walls.
My intention is that they will seek out new life and new civilizations, boldly going where no one has gone before. Mostly with their tricorders out rather than their phasers, of course.
And now, the last student has turned in his test, so the essay writing portion of today is finished.
Peace,
Rob
My school sets the value of this test at 10% of the grade I give to my students. So I do. I tell them that if they put their name and student number on their paper I will give them 8 out of those 10 points. I then give 9 points to the students who score in the top 20% of each class and 10 points to those who score in the top 10%.
It is an embarrassing waste of time. I could be doing so much with this time, when the semester total is only 15 class sessions. Seems like a lot of time, but then you have to subtract this TOEIC test, the first day of classes with abysmal attendance, the midterm, the week off while the Korean professors give midterms, the final, festival, national holidays, and student field trips. This leaves some classes with a total of six teaching days, though some have as many as nine.
My favorite listening question so far: "What will kids receive when they sit on Santa's lap?" I'm sure it made sense in the context of the story, but I had to cover my laugh with a small cough.
Yes, I am writing this post in the middle of administering this mocked test.
I decided that it is a better use of my time than just reading on my Kindle, which I've done for the previous three classes. And so I am writing about Maxine's week off from school. (Her school has fall break this week.)
Maxine's friend at school is Japanese, and her visa was about to expire, so she had to renew it. Due to extremely clever planning by Korean Immigration, many foreigners living in Korea can only renew their visas at a Korean embassy or consulate. Since the definitions of embassy and consulate include being in another country, this means spending the money for a plane or boat ticket and accommodations as well as the visa fee itself. How is that for friendly and welcoming?
Anyway, Maxine's friend, Macheeyae (not sure of the spelling) has to renew her visa. She is travelling with her mother, Maxine and Macheeyae's teacher, and her son and mother. Since three adults were going, the ferry tickets are not expensive, and they are staying with relatives, they invited Maxine to come along. Horyon was not thrilled with the idea, wondering if the radiation could cause long-term health problems, but they are not going North, and are staying for just 3 days and 2 nights. I thought it sounded like a fantastic experience, and was actually kind of jealous: I didn't leave America until I was 24 years old, and now Maxine is taking in her third country.
They left Wednesday morning and should be back in Korea just about now (5:00 on Friday). I am excited to hear about her experience, though the 8-year-old point of view on these things is quite different from a more adult perspective. She was very excited about going, though she said she would miss us. I think it was probably more like an extended sleepover, with late nights and giggling and junk food. Maybe she will have some new favorite snacks from Japan?
Maxine already has some basic ideas about how Korea and America are different. While I was growing up, the idea of cultural differences was like knowing the difference between conditions on Earth and Mars: all theoretical. As I got older, the ideas grew as well, but I did not and could not really understand what culture was about until I left my own to live in another. Likewise, I did not really learn another language until I was in my 20's. (I don't count the 8 weeks of Spanish I took in jr. high. Lo siento Senora Elmer! Thank you Google Translate!) I consider myself to be more aware of the world at large than most people I grew up with, but Maxine and Quinten are growing up to be seriously international, citizens of the world! How can that not be exciting?
I imagine that when she grows up and people ask her "Where are you from?" she will either say, "I was just at the store." or, "When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much..." Because a straight answer to the intention of the question could get pretty complicated. And what sort of answer will her children give?
It makes me happy to realize that there are more and more people with complicated answers to this question. It takes me back to my Peace Corps days.
When I joined the Peace Corps in 1993 (20 years ago this month!) I learned that the Peace Corps was established with three goals (if you don't count siphoning off young dissidents): 1) training people to help themselves 2) teaching those people about Americans, and 3) teaching Americans about people in other countries. Though I haven't been in Nepal for many years, I feel like these goals have woven themselves into my life. I believe that this blog helps some of you to better understand Korea (3rd goal), my daily interactions help Koreans better understand Americans (1st goal), and one goal of my teaching is to help my students to know how to learn English, so that they can improve on their own.
In the end, the world will be a better place if more people better understand the world outside of their country's borders, because the better you understand someone, the harder it is to hate them and the easier it is to cooperate with them. That's my dream for my kids.
I believe that they will be attracted to the different because wherever they go they will be the different. When they see conflict their first reaction is to build bridges, not walls.
My intention is that they will seek out new life and new civilizations, boldly going where no one has gone before. Mostly with their tricorders out rather than their phasers, of course.
And now, the last student has turned in his test, so the essay writing portion of today is finished.
Peace,
Rob
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