Breakthrough Performance

From my little experience in the field, I've derived a tested hypothesis on teaching: methodology is a sham, teaching is perfected through a case-by-case basis. Attitude, demeanor, an elevated confidence- these are characteristics all teachers would own, but they will only get you through the door, or, into the country. Connecting with the students is achieved through individual techniques. With the little children, I follow a simple philosophy: Come to class looking to learn and have fun. At such an impressionable age, these children associate through imitation mostly. I am eager to hear all they can say and am never too set in my curriculum to pause for fun. To many educators, I believe the word "fun" causes alarm and contempt. They think enjoyment detours the learning process. I've found this to be true in certain cases (the middle school children) but only when they begin to expect entertainment. It's contagious; I laugh, they laugh, I stop and they go right ahead laughing. This is particularly dangerous in my situation where the students can carry on jokes far above my head and clear of my wrath. I very rarely know what they're talking about. I've become attuned to certain bad words. The most often used is "pabu" which translates to stupid or, more accurately, a fool. My kindergarten class called me "pabu teacher" quite frequently early on but I didn't' let it anger or discourage me. I have a theory on that. With every new class, there is always a turning point, the moment of truth when they realize you cannot speak, nor understand their native tongue. For the youngest students, this shocks them. Not only am I weird looking (bigger nose, non-black hair, wide-eyed) but they've probably never seen or met a person who didn't speak Korean. Believe me, in this place, it is unthinkable that someone can't speak Korean. The children laugh and call you a fool but it's alright; they'll learn eventually. For now, they're young and I'll let them play in the sun. I think it's most important to instill some sort of rewarding joy in learning English. It is their second language, afterall.
With the elementary children, their outlook on learning English (young guk) is already established; some enjoy it, some loathe it and others are indifferent- viewing it as another chore demanded by their parents, much like brushing their teeth before bed. The elementary kids range from ages 9-14 and also differ in skill levels. Some are exceptional students placed in the advanced classes because they always do their homework but can barely speak. Other times, I'll teach a beginner class and have a student that fails the vocab, never does his/her homework but is so outgoing that, through necessity to speak to the teacher, has developed an advanced ability to speak English. I try not to be biased in these opposite cases (we're supposed to stress a diligent work ethic), but I can't help but enjoy my conversations with the children most. You must remember that, outside of the school, it's nearly impossible to converse with a Korean.
Today I had a breakthrough with one of my better students. She's a nice girl (I think), cute, always prepares and hardly misses a vocab question but , in the month and a half I've been teaching her, she's only spoken a handful of times. And, when she does, she speaks so quietly that I have to run up to her, put my ear right in front of her face to make the words out. I'm always surprised and quick to get her to repeat it so I don't waste this monumental effort. Before the vocab quizzes, I normally make some outrageous threat like, if you get one wrong, I'll "bite your ear off, or throw you out the window, etc." Just something to get them laughing. Today I told Julie, the smart shy little girl, that I was going to take her yellow rain coat if she didn't get a 10 out of 10. She missed one and, with little resistance, I stole the coat. I tried to put it on, but could only fit my forearms in. I then paraded around the class doing Chris Farley's "Fat man in a little coat" song. Eureka!! She loved it. The girl was beside herself, yelling, having a laughing fit. I couldn't believe it. I'd cracked the case. Truthfully, the parallels between standup comedy and teaching are striking. In fact, I would recommend that anyone thinking of teaching a foreign language to children should watch Mr. Bean's every show. The silent comedy works best when dealing with a lack of communication. There I was, parading around the room with an ill-fitting, pint-sized jacket and discovering a teaching breakthrough at the same time. She was vocal the rest of the class, joining the other children in chiding me at all costs. I enjoyed every humiliating moment of it.