The biggest problem I have with teaching children is that I identify too much with the silly, rambunctious ones that just wanna doodle and play with their pencils and have trouble concentrating on any one given thing. I was like that when I was a kid. Hell, I’m still like that now. Sometimes it’s really difficult for me to get the kids to focus on English when half the time I just want to play with them. A few weeks ago, I was teaching a two-student class and one of them started making that farting noise by squeaking his hands together. The second kid was thoroughly impressed, especially when the first kid made the same noise, only louder, with his armpit. The second kid, with awe in his eyes like he had just seen the heavens part during a thunderstorm, asked, “how do you do that? I don't even understand what you’re doing to make that noise!?!” Before I could think to bring the class back to studying English, I was actually reaching for my own armpit to explain. Fortunately, before I got the first button undone on my shirt I realized that this probably wouldn't be considered a meaningful cultural exchange expected by my English school, so I corralled the kids’ attention and got back to the textbook. Last week, one of my students in a class of four kids aged six and seven asked me シシとウンチは英語で何て言う？ (“How do you say poop and pee in English?”) Even though I inhaled and my mouth prepared contort itself into the basic shapes used to make speech, I decided against it at the last second because I knew that if MY students started using those ENGLISH words in front of the other teachers, it wouldn't be difficult to figure out where they got it. Its hard for me to suppress these urges cause that's the kind of child to help them learn silly things cause what I wanted to know the most when I was a kid. When I was in high school my friends in Japanese class and I used to have strange word contests. Every week we would look up words and at the end of the week, we would judge who found the strangest word or words. I still remember most of these words that I learned at this time like 蛆虫 (ujimushi-maggot), 性転換 (seitenkan-sex change) and 精神分裂症 (seishin-bun-retsu-shou, which of course means schizophrenia). Some of the really mean things I did as a kid though involve my Japanese high school teacher. I like to say that I inadvertently learned Japanese in high school, because the first year was so difficult that a group of us, well maybe the whole damn class, would pass our exams by making cheat sheets to use during the tests (sorry mom). Because of the three different writing systems involved in the visuals of the language it was can be very tough to start learning, especially when you are in school and have other classes etc, so to start “learning” the language we just started cheating. The weird part was, it took so much time to make these little bitty cheat sheets to hold between our legs that we all accidentally learned it by preparing to cheat. The Chinese characters had to be so painstakingly written with such a fine tipped pen (waterproof ink to make sure sweat didn't wipe out your vocabulary) that only practicing formal calligraphy with a brush could have required more attention to detail. None of us had to cheat the second year of Japanese study cause we all accidentally learned it after the first year. It's the only class I have ever cheated in, and its kind of strange considering Japanese study has become one of the most important parts of my life. The other bad thing I did was, since everyone kind of thought the Japanese teacher was laughable, with her funny accent, the moon boots she wore and her taste in basically everything from clothing to teaching methods to humor (“Did you see the Presidential Erection?” - true quote, but we were laughing AT her, not with her), I made some t-shirts of her and sold them to the other students that thought she was goofy. I hand painted some silk screens that made fun of her likeness and mannerisms (such as her ever powerful threat, “You justa FRUNK!”) and sold them for $10 a pop. I even sold one to an in-law of hers that was a student at the school. Kinda crappy. It was funny, but in a mean, crappy way that only a real smart-ass can enjoy.
Well, I decided to try and make some amends for the trouble I called her when I was in Oklahoma last year. After leaving Denver I went to Tulsa for a few weeks before going to Japan. While there, I looked up Nobu Farrill (her Japanese last name was Ikeda before she married an American a few decades ago) and I went to visit her. A couple of my best friends from Denver, Masa and Masato, went with me and they were stunned at her brilliance when we left. As part of her introduction she showed us books and magazine articles that she has published, photos of her and in-laws of the royal family of Japan, and the most impressive thing was an EXTREMELY rare MEDAL from the EMPEROR of JAPAN awarded to her for teaching Japanese to brats like me.
I knew I would appreciate her more as an adult than I did as a kid, but I had no idea that she was such a spirited, creative saint. Two very different views of the same person about fifteen years apart. Fortunately she didn't seem to remember my name so she didn't have any bad memories of me or any t-shirts. Because of this, I was able to avoid the very necessary apologies and just stare at her in awe and be amazed that such an innovative intellectual could end up teaching a bunch of silly kids. I am going to write her a letter soon to tell her how much I appreciate her service as a mentor, and as someone that just put up with all of my crap when I was younger. I sent her an email, but she apparently hasn't received it, so I am going to practice some formal Japanese and tell her thank you again via hand written letter.
Whenever I teach the aggressive, spitting, ball punching, butt poking bastard children that are mixed in with all of the wonderful ones, I think I know how she must have felt teaching me and the other mean kids in my class. I also hope that in fifteen years or so, my current students will come visit me wherever I am so that they can fully appreciate the genius, immaculate, artistic talent that I am (that is, if they have grown wise enough to appreciate such majesty).
Ta-ta!
Erich von Meatleg
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