My Struggles With Teaching

I’ve decided to do something entirely different for this week’s report. Now, as to whether this is a product of genius inspiration or a sudden manic episode, your guess is as good as mine. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this deeper glimpse into my thoughts and adventures this week.

I gladly accepted the scythe from the farmer’s hand and followed the lead of those around me in cutting the rice straw. This was part of a special activity that marked the start of the rice harvest season at Nong Bua Ku school. In addition to the ceremonial rice cutting, there were opportunities to speak with and take photos with some monks and government representatives. There were also some rice-centric games like trying to throw and stick a rice bundle on the end of a human yoke (the stick used to carry rice bundles). During the celebration, I was stopped multiple times for handshakes and photographs. For a moment, I was beginning to think I had run for office and forgotten about it.

This undeserved fame continued after the school event as well. Pa Lam and I had just finished shopping. On our way out of the store, we met a school director that TBA apparently works with. They started talking, and the next thing I know, I’m being told that the director wants me to teach at her school. Obviously, I was flattered (especially considering this same thing happened with other directors at the harvest celebration), but I couldn’t just outright agree. I’d already committed to teaching at six schools a week, so it would be a bit difficult to squeeze a seventh in without adjusting my schedule. After talking things over with Pa Lam, we decided to cut all my classes down to once a week in order to allow me to teach up to eight schools at my current schedule (two schools a day, four days a week). The director was ecstatic and informed me how important this opportunity is for her kids. We then exchanged contact information, worked out some preliminary logistics, and went on our way. As we were walking to the car, Pa Lam told me that I’d reached “superstar status.” I’ve yet to determine if that’s for better or for worse.

Since these two incidents, I’ve been putting a lot of thought into my role here at TBA and in Thailand as a whole. Clearly, my presence here is greatly appreciated, as many schools are leaping at the opportunity for me to teach English there. I imagine many people would attribute this as a testament to my success and impact here. However, I think that fails to consider all the little nuances at play. For starters, I haven’t really done anything to earn this newly acclaimed “fame.” Instead, this “fame” is largely just the product of being a foreigner in a rural area that doesn’t see a lot of outsiders. After all, for many, I’m the first foreigner they’ve ever seen. There’s definitely an implicit assumption that just because I speak English well, I’ll naturally be a good English teacher who’s able to improve the language skills of my students. Obviously, that logic is a little flawed.

When she notices my reservations, Pa Lam often tells me that just spending time with the kids is an experience that they’ll never forget. Generally, this makes me feel better about the whole situation, but it still doesn’t satisfy the relentless moral philosopher within me. The two justifications for me being a teacher are that I’m a native English speaker and that I have a desire to help. I recognize that the acceptable quality of a product or service diminishes with scarcity, but at the same time, there still has to be some performance threshold. Even if there’s no contractor available, it’d be unwise to allow a construction worker to give instructions on building a house. In the same way, I question why I’m allowed to stand in front of the class when I struggle to spell basic words.

Regardless of how underqualified I am to be in this position, the reality is that I have an obligation to uphold the responsibility that has been thrust upon me. Despite the occasional failures (like spending way too much time trying to force learning in front of a board or trying to explain the rules to a game, just to be met by laughs and blank stares), I’ve tried to keep the perspective that even if my students learn just one word a lesson, that’s one more word than they would’ve gotten without me. However, it is crucial that I don’t become complacent and let my hubris get the best of me. Even on good days when class is filled with fun and learning, it’s crucial that I always examine myself and focus on ways to improve. In the grand scheme of things, I know nothing, which is problematic for the well-being of my kids. The least I can do is push through the self-doubt, focus on improving, and remember that everything I do should be for the benefit of the students. It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s a step in the right direction to ensure that my efforts are more than just self-righteous theater.

Harvesting Rice

Harvesting rice was my big adventure for the week. Even with all my teaching struggles, I have to say that I’m glad I didn’t volunteer to be a Thai farmer. When manually harvesting rice, you have to use a small scythe to cut the stalks. It is very important that the cut stalks are cut at the same length so they can be bundled together. I doubt anyone will be surprised to learn that I was extremely bad at doing this. I’m clinically uncoordinated, which doesn’t lend itself well to cutting rice with stalks in one hand and a scythe in the other.

My favorite part of the rice harvest was when I learned how to make a whistle out of a rice stalk. It took me a couple of tries to master it, but once I did, I couldn’t stop making them. Basically, you cut the stalk into a roughly 10-cm section. Then, on the closed end, you carve a makeshift reed. Lastly, using a piece of straw, you make sure there are no obstructions in the tube. After that, it’s playing time. I eventually decided to spice up the whistle and turn it into a flute. I used my knife to cut some holes along the body of the stalk. This allowed me to change the pitch by covering up the holes. I would definitely subject myself to the labor of harvesting rice if it meant I got to play with the stalks.