Down With School

This week has been a unique one, but (for once) not because of any wild adventures. This weekend was the first Saturday that I spent at home, since my school was hosting a school fair. Our coordinators requested a repeat performance of the highly esteemed “traditional” line dance, “Cotton Eyed Joe,” and this time one of our students did a little solo.

(photo by Timothy McLaughlin)

Once again, we were asked to stand behind a booth and be the token farangs when the dean of the school walked by. I have begun to realize that that part of the reason our school brought us here is as western trophies; our coordinator has already admitted that she hired us because we were young, beautiful American women. Our school is very concerned about exuding an air of prestige, and having young Western teachers is a status symbol for Thai schools. Most of the time, the manner in which they put us on display is absurd but amusing. Earlier this week were asked to record a video for a karaoke version of school anthem (even though we butchered it because we can’t speak Thai), several weeks ago we were asked to help host a World Quiz competition even though the teachers hosting it didn’t need our help (the school wanted us to sit there and look nice for the pictures), and they always send us on school field trips even though we can never help with the planning or discipline (they want other schools to note the farang teachers our school has). I definitely don’t mind when they show us off, as long as I can still get my job done, but I’m starting to experience a disparity between appearance and substance that occasionally turns from amusing to annoying.

The school fair this weekend was a perfect example of my façade vs. fact concern. The kids, teachers, and coordinators have been frantically preparing for this festival for weeks, and almost all else was sacrificed in its name. Tons of my English classes were cancelled for “dance practice” or “fair decorating,” often without any warning to me (I can’t count how many times this week I walked into an empty classroom).

Why was this festival so much more important than class? Because the wealthy parents of our students would be there. It was more important for the school to seem put together through tight-nit dance routines and impeccable school ceremonies, than for the students to actually be in class during the week. I’m not saying it wasn’t worth the effort; The parents were proudly snapping hundreds of pictures on their digital SLRs, and the children looked painfully adorable in their Thai garb, sparkly dresses and princess up-dos hairsprayed to perfection. But this is a school, shouldn’t academia come first?

Sometimes I feel like my legs are cut out from under me as a teacher because of my inability to discipline, let alone see my children on a regular basis. My school name is fairly renowned, and we are a language academy, but a fair percentage of my students have little to no grasp of English. When I first arrived here it perplexed me, considering my school’s funding and status, but I’ve begun to realize that all the resources in the world don’t necessarily make a fine school. I really don’t want to be any harsher on my school than I need to, I wouldn’t work here for another semester if I felt like I was wasting my time, but it’s definitely something that needs to be addressed on a larger scale.

On Friday we had a reunion dinner in Bangkok hosted by my teaching program, and we discussed how to discipline students when there is no substance behind our requests. My main example: I cannot fail my students. If they don’t pass a test, I need to re-test them. If they don’t show up for the re-test… well, I need to return to rule number 1: I cannot fail my students. It goes against every grain in my body to pass students who didn’t earn it it, especially after I gave up my lunch period waiting for 18 different students to never show up for a re-test. Cheating is also acceptable here. Kids cheat all the time, on everything, and teachers always look the other way. As long as they pass, their parents are happy, and the school is happy.

I don’t blame the students. Any normal teenager would slack off if they knew it was impossible to fail. I know I’m betraying young people around the world when I say things like this, but students need some sort of discipline and boundaries. If they can slip by, they will. It’s just the nature of being a kid. The responsibility for the mixed messages kids receive lies in the system, which doesn’t inspire personal motivation. I truly believe all of my coordinators care about the students and want the best for our school, but they are stuck in this appearances over reality mentality that I acknowledge is partially cultural, but really damages things internally.

That being said, I don’t claim to have all the solutions. I also don’t want to dwell on cynicism; I still think I’m making a difference simply by being here, speaking English to my students, repeating things so many times that something is bound to stick. And all this being said, I had a damn fine weekend. I caught up on a lot of sleep, and really assessed where I am at this point in Thailand. The things I’m finding significant here are completely unexpected. Ain’t that the greatest?