I recently came across this nugget of
wisdom on an online JET Programme Forum. In this age of tweets and twitters and
Facebook photos, it’s so easy to create the appearance of a life that
is significantly more attractive and appealing than it may actually be.
As my days in Japan are increasingly
numbered, I find myself jogging down memory lane more regularly than usual.
While most of the memories I’ll take home will be positive ones, it would be
dishonest (and, let’s face it, much less interesting) not to make mention of those less enjoyable experiences.
And, so, without further ado, I give you my blooper
reel:*
Walking into one of your favorite elementary schools at the start of a new school year to find that nearly every English-eager teacher, administrator, and office person has been transferred elsewhere.
When a wonderful staffroom conversation
about South Africa turns sour due to one unfortunate word (“volunteer”) on your part, resulting in a pair of grown men harassing you in several languages about
how much ALTs earn.
Mysterious bruises and swollen baby toes
after “non-contact” Frisbee practices.
The demoralizing exasperation during a
poorly planned, mind-numbingly dull, supposedly “team-taught” class, followed
by further frustration knowing that, despite your best efforts, you are
powerless to do much more about it. This inner rage is only compounded when you
reason with yourself that trying to fix what is most
definitely broken (or, at least, ridiculously rusty) might damage relations and, thus, actually make the situation worse.
Those rare occasions where you have to step back and convince yourself
that these aren’t your kids, these aren’t your classes, and that you are not
solely responsible for their education or interest in English. Those rare occasions where you have to remind yourself not to take your job so seriously, if only
for the sake of your own sanity.
The unsolicited attention – suspicious by day, salacious by night – of middle-aged salarymen.
The absurd assumption that because you are a native English
speaker, you are a living, breathing grammar book ready to explain and defend each
and every exception of your mother tongue at any and all times.
The icky, overwhelming feeling threatening to swallow you whole in late April as the carefully-laid plans for your dwindling time in Japan, your journey to Canada, and your return to school in September slowly tear, twist, and tangle, demanding undivided time and attention you simply do not have.
*The list is short, and I like it that way!
