Weariness

Ever since my pneuomina-kidney infection combo a month ago, I find that I get tired a lot more easily than usual. That's been especially true this week. It's the end of the month again, so in addition to my usual 12-hour school day, I've been working on monthly progress reports and lesson plans. Toward the end of the day, I can actually start to feel my brain start to shut itself down. I remember learning about different types of brain waves in a psychology class in high school. Is it possible actually to feel your brain waves change? I think I can.

When I get home at night, I'm tired. I'm not able to think clearly enough to read or write or study, so I'm not making anywhere near enough progress on my geology and math courses or my Korean, and my journal entries and email messages go unwritten. Honestly, at the end of the day, I no longer want to communicate. It's almost as if after a full day of trying to communicate, I have no more words left to exchange--none to say, none to hear--in English or Korean. I don't even turn the television on. I just want to sit in quiet.

My brain feels a little more fried than usuaul today. In my morning classes at the preschool, I have no control over the curriculum. I am simply given a lesson and am expected to teach it. However, the lessons are frequently inadequate--insufficient material or an inappropriate level or simply a poor quality. Today I was given a science lesson that was designed for 2nd graders in the United States, and I was expected to teach it to 5- and 6-year-olds whose English is so limited that they sometimes still have trouble answering the question "How are you?" with the pat response "I'm fine, thank you." At the preschool, I'm supposed to have a Korean coteacher in the class with me. Some are very sweet and helpful, but others surf the internet with complete disregard to the fact that the kids don't have any idea what I'm saying and chaos is beginning to ensue.

Today the lesson was obviously too difficult for the kids, but I had to teach it anyway. In one class, this resulted in 12 children holding up papers and screaming "MS EMH, 어똫게?????????????" ("WHAT DO I DO???") With no common language, I had no real way to explain to them what they were supposed to do, and even if I could have explained it, the lesson would have been too difficult for them anyway. The Korean coteacher, completely oblivious to the deafening noise level, didn't try to help with the explanation. She was too busy keeping a child, whom I suspect to be autistic, from wandering out of the classroom (why his assigned seat is closest to the door is beyond me), and no matter how may times I said, "Raise your hand!" or "Don't yell!" the screaming persisted.

I don't blame the kids. They're just little and asking for help in the way they know how--repeating themselves with increased volume when they don't get a sufficient answer to their question. I don't blame the teacher. She's usually helpful and was obviously busy assisting the special needs child. I do, however, blame--or at least question--this culture of ultra competitiveness that makes people believe that it's somehow beneficial to their very small children to push them past their ability to comprehend--to give beginning English students materials designed for native English-speakers who are several years older than they are. The sad thing is that this completely wasted valuable class time during which real progress could have been made in their English education. It's even sadder that this isn't the first class we've had like this.