The Birth of sChool: My end with (Shanghai) Jazz

I get that the title is a bit misleading because its about the end of my semester, but this was the catchiest thing I could come up with so cut me some slack…

My ninja intuition tells me that a lot of people are interested in how I finished out my semester in Shanghai before relocating to Beijing.  While my experience was genuinely life changing, it was not all sunshine and butterflies.  Despite all I learned, I would definitely classify my closing weeks working for Shanghai Jazz English Training Institute as tumultuous.  Relations between my boss/Chinese coworkers and I had become somewhat strained, which, regretfully, was manifested in my going through the motions, eager to finish my present venture and move on to brighter pastures.

~*(Disclaimer: This post contains a letter I wrote to the new teachers/my previous employer (but never sent), and it is long as.  It is a detailed account of everything that I despised about my job and I wrote it when I was furious with my boss.  As a result, it is not very fluid and often a little hard to follow, especially because I’m pretty sure I forgot who I intended to read it.  I go in and out of tenses often and do other shiz that will drive English majors crazy, but deal, it was written with passion.  While it was a brilliant way to vent, I eventually got what I was after ($$$) and decided not to send it to anyone.  In retrospect, it is a great read for anyone who is remotely interested in working in China or just curious about some of the stuff I dealt with. Phew.)*~

Most of this discomfort stemmed from a lack of communication, but after 5 months of this I had become pretty jaded.  Jazz felt that it fell on my shoulders to adjust my demeanor to that of a Chinese person- not question anything and simply go along with everything regardless of my own thoughts, beliefs and past experiences (such is the Chinese way).  While I am all for cultural immersion, I felt that a company who dealt specifically with westerners for the last 15 years should at least acknowledge our differences and try to be more understanding, especially when it pertained to my students’ education.

I had initially written a long winded lead-in for this story but deleted it in the interest of brevity.  To make a long story short, my boss withheld my final paycheck from me for two days while I completed menial tasks that she claimed were necessary.  After completing these tasks, my boss informed me that the travel stipend I had been promised (but stupidly enough, not gotten in writing) would be withheld.  It was only the equivalent of about $150, but I was irate at this sheisty maneuver after all I had put up with.

One of the final “projects” that I was supposed to complete in order to receive my last paycheck was a letter to the incoming teachers, offering advice and sharing my experience.  As soon as I got the news that I would not be receiving my stipend, I proceeded to sit down and hammer out the following passage (i.e. bitter tirade).

Before you move on to the letter I really have to stress what an unbelievably positive experience this was overall (hence my return to China).  Throughout the term I was able to learn the basics of teaching (i.e. how to write lesson plans and entertain children in an educational way for up to 90 minutes), got experience working with a Chinese company, lived and operated alone and on my own terms (a.k.a. begrudgingly paid my own bills), and the whole shebang culminated in my developing a fondness for not only my rittle dumprings, but also children in general.  My most significant takeaway over the 5+ months, however, was the insight I gained into the upbringing of Chinese children and therefore into Chinese culture in general.  I had a unique perspective that could only have been achieved as a teacher.

Here goes:

There is too much to say about my experience teaching for NewBeat Jazz English Training Institute and not enough time to properly articulate myself.  If I could offer one piece of advice to any brave soul embarking on the same journey that I have just completed, it would sound something like “Be more flexible than Gumby and never wear your shoes in the house.”  That was pretty corny but cut me some slack, I just made it up (don’t worry if the shoe reference went over your head; it’ll make sense soon enough.)

What I’m trying to express is that you will undoubtedly be faced with moments that make you want to scream until every capillary in your face explodes or punch an airplane hangar full of babies, and it is best to embrace this notion before you even open a book on China.  Everything is done completely different here. Accept it now.  No matter how absurd it seems, or how bent out of shape you get, no amount of whining or complaining will affect the Chinese system.  By the end of the semester I was just chalking up these instances as GDCMs: “Goddamn China Moments.”  It’s when one of these situations arises that you must use more restraint than you ever have before and refrain from going berserk.  Writing off these daft scenarios as GDCMs was a way for me to cope with the absurdity of the situation without completely losing my mind, a la “serenity now,” for all you Seinfeld fans (we all know how that ends- *gulp*).  Towards the end of my stay, when something unpleasant happened to me out of the blue, I would chuckle to myself and think “Nowhere else in the world…”

Teaching kindergarten was a complex task for me to adjust to, as initially I was told that I would be teaching middle school.  It was not until the weekend preceding my job that I found out that I would be mentoring children mostly between the ages of two and six years old, a fact that perturbed me to say the least.  My initial reaction was frustration with the company I trusted to place me (CIEE), as well as anger at myself for having done so little research into a venture that I had thrust myself into, unbeknownst to the consequences.  I approached my boss, Touba, only one month in and informed her that I intended to quit.  After a brief discussion, it was agreed that I would stay on for the semester, rather than the full year that I had initially signed up for.  Looking back on it, I am absolutely resolute that I made the right decision.  I simply do not have the patience to be a kindergarten teacher, but I digress.

For the most part, your job here is very easy.  The NewBeat content is simple enough to follow and there is a certain amount of “customization” available if you choose to make the lessons your own.  I know I had to, or else the monotony of my day would’ve caused me to choke on my tongue and suffocate.  The saving graces for me were my mornings at Yi Shu, which thankfully I had every day.  I was able to really get to know these kids and develop strong relationships with the majority.  One comment I will make on this is to let yourself fall in love with these kids- it will make your job infinitely easier and very rewarding.  Despite any issues I had with my living and working situation in China, these kids made it all worthwhile.  I will even admit to getting choked up today when one of my six year olds, Debbie, upon realizing that she would never see me again, ran over to embrace me and cover my jacket with tears.

The Chinese facilitators are very understanding and friendly, as well as an indispensable resource.  Stephanie (in the beginning), Cissy, and Angela all were great helps throughout the semester.  Their vast knowledge of the curriculum as well as ability to communicate (and discipline) will surely come in handy.

This has truly been an unbelievable experience and I will cherish the memories forever.  That being said, there were a number of issues with Jazz specifically that could have made my stay more comfortable.

Organization:

My chief concerns are communication and organization.  I rarely felt fully informed and was often thrown into situations in which I had to figure things out by myself.  One example that comes to mind took place about two weeks back.  I was covering a former colleague’s class (she couldn’t handle the job and quit a month early) and needed to know what classes I would be teaching.  I called a facilitator, who promptly informed me which classrooms the classes would take place in.  When I asked which floors the classes were on (there were 3 floors in this particular school), she told me that she did not know.  I proceeded to call another facilitator, who told me which floors she believed they were on, but was not positive.  Feeling anxious, I called Touba and asked if she could contact someone at the school to guide me, which she did pleasantly.  I waited for a time in the lobby, but as my class drew near and my patience thin I decided to take matters into my own hands.  I wandered around the floors, peering into windows for about 10 minutes until a Chinese teacher noticed the lost wai guo ren (a.k.a. random white dude) and directed me to where I should be.  I strolled into class 5 minutes late only to discover that I had been given the wrong time, and was actually 20 minutes early.  Another GDCM.

Transportation:

My taking issue with the organizational deficiencies of the, er- Jazz organization, was a running theme throughout my stay here.  Another strong issue was transportation.  Jazz provided a van to take me to school each morning, which was fairly convenient.  I would walk about 15 minutes each morning to the corner of PuBei lu and GuiLin lu, where I convened with my fellow Yi Shu teachers and was whisked away by James (who is the MAN by the way).  The problem lied in what happened afterward.  The van would pick us up after school and take us to Jazz, where we could have lunch and relax until 2 pm, at which point James and his magic bus would take us to our afternoon classes.  The issue was that it wasted a huge amount of time throughout the day.  I finished class at 10:45 and waited until 11 or so to be picked up.  We arrived at Jazz around 11:20 and waited until 12 for lunch.  After lunch ended, we sat around and waited until 2 before we left for afternoon classes that didn’t start until 2:40.  It was about 3 hours per day that was just wasted on the internet.  Many days I did indeed use my office hours productively, but as we were not being paid for this time in the office, I felt it was a grave injustice.  The options were submit to wasting this valuable personal time, or spend over 50 kuai a day on 45 minutes taxi rides.

Curriculum:

While the unstructured office atmosphere was bothersome, it did not come close to the sheer anger and disbelief I sometimes felt in regard to the NewBeat Jazz curriculum.  To put it simply, it needs a vast overhaul for many reasons.  While there is some continuity between the books, it doesn’t focus on aspects of the English language that promote communication, and often times the content was flat out bizarre or wrong.

The fundamental issue is that Jazz puts so much weight on developing EQ that it forgets that these children are TWO TO SIX YEAR OLDS.  These kids barely understand every 10^th word I say- how in God’s name am I supposed to convey the sentiment that all countries need to work together and collaborate in order to preserve this green earth?  Should I dumb it down and start by explaining how according to Thomas Friedman we now belong to a global community, chiefly due to globalization, and the world is flattening in a way that could not have been achieved only 10 years ago because of a lack of technology?  Should I touch on the basics of foreign policy or delve into how much the USA is in debt to China?  We are told in the beginning of the semester that along with the English lessons, we should be absolutely sure to include this peripheral learning, which is designed to mold these students into model world citizens, not just fluent English speakers.  I end up wasting an exorbitant amount of time explaining this concept. First to the children, which obviously falls on deaf ears, and then to their teachers, who often have just as much trouble understanding what I’m trying to say.  The kicker is that even if the teachers eventually understand the point I’m trying to get across, they explain everything in Chinese!  This entire circus act not only wastes time, but is completely counterproductive, all because this outlook is “indispensable to the NewBeat curriculum.”

While this in and of itself was enough to drive me crazy, I was often able to spice up my lessons as I saw fit.  I desperately tried to include exercises that would focus solely on these kids’ oral competency, using the NewBeat curriculum as scaffolding rather than brick and mortar.  This was met with opposition and fierce resistance by my Jazz facilitators and would end up causing the most trials and tribulations for me.  As far as I’m concerned, I am an expert at speaking English.  I was brought in as an “English Speaking Specialist,” and while I enjoyed my time in Shanghai, I took this role very seriously.  When I have people who do not speak English as a first language tweaking my lesson because it “doesn’t fit the prototype,” I go bonkers.

During class a few weeks ago, I was told that I should stop teaching “unit 11” because this week I was supposed to teach “unit 12.”  It was a Monday.  The following scene took place (this dialogue is paraphrased):

Facilitator: “Um, Jake, you are teaching unit 11. This week is unit 12.  Please teach unit 12.”

Me: “My kids don’t really know unit 11 yet, so I thought I would make sure they have a good grasp before we continue.”

Facilitator: “Ok, but it’s not unit 12.  You must teach unit 12.”

Me: “I think it would be better for my kids to know all of unit 11 as opposed to half of unit 11 and half of unit 12.  Don’t you agree?  I have 4 more days to teach unit 12 anyway.”

Facilitator: “Yes. But you must teach unit 12 now, so maybe teach that instead.”

(This went back and forth for what seemed like an eternity unitl…)

Me: “You really want these kids to learn unit 12? (I proceed to sit down). Go.  Teach unit 12.”

Facilitator: “Gah! But it’s your class!”

Me: “Then sit down, shut up, and let me teach my class as I see fit!”

Keep in mind that all this happened while class was going on.  The kids were 3 years old and couldn’t possibly grasp what was going on, but it was still an experience that shocks me to this day.  My facilitator could not stop for one second to process what I was trying to accomplish.  All she understood was that I was drawing outside of the lines and as far as she was concerned it was unacceptable.

The company’s unwillingness to diverge from the curriculum even a smidge was disheartening.  This was compounded by the fact that the facilitators were often contradictory by straying from the books themselves.  One example was how much of an emphasis they placed on dance moves.  Writing it now seems ridiculous, but I was stopped on several occasions (DURING a class, not before or after) and told by a facilitator that my dance moves weren’t correct.  Despite this unwelcome intrusion, these same facilitators often demonstrated completely different dance moves when showing us how to perform them at group meetings.  The mere fact that a few facilitators interrupted my classes on multiple occasions rather than wait until they commenced is bafflingly unprofessional.

Money:

I assume that money is a problem everywhere for everyone, but it was routinely an issue for most employees here.  We were supposed to receive a 150 kuai stipend to pay our bills (which was not nearly enough- my internet alone was 160 kuai per month, but that’s a different issue entirely), but rather than just give us the money, we had to pay our bills, turn them in, and then receive the money.  This seems like a simple enough task, except for the fact that bills here come whenever they feel like it.  Additionally, Jazz wouldn’t pay out the bill stipend until every single employee had turned in their bills.  This resulted in some peeved Jazzers waiting patiently for their coworkers, who had not paid due to their blasé life style (guilty) or just had not received their bills yet.

I know what I’m about to talk about is a touchy subject, but I cannot help but go into it.  We did not get paid nearly enough.  To provide full disclosure, I will admit that I knew exactly how much money I would be making when I signed up with CIEE.  Regardless of this, I had no idea how that money would translate to the cost of living here.  I don’t know if CIEE got a cut or if we were just slighted because we didn’t know any better, but I know for a fact that the employees who didn’t come through CIEE got substantially more than those who did.  I talked to numerous contacts in CIEE that were placed in tier 2 or 3 cities in China who got paid more than we did, and their daily cost of life was a fraction of what ours was.  What was most infuriating, though, was that I met so many English teachers during my stay in Shanghai and every single one made at least double what I did.  I was even offered a job as a private tutor very early in the semester that would have paid substantially more than what I had received, but I did not have the heart to stab neither Jazz nor my newly inherited children in the backs.

This started off as advice and quickly turned into a rant, and for that I apologize.  I have thought about all of these things for so long, and while I have talked about them with my colleagues on numerous occasions, it feels good to get it down in writing.  My basic issue was acclimating to the “intricacies” of Chinese office conduct, which was not nearly as structured as I am used to.  As such, I conducted myself accordingly.  The lack of professionalism on one side caused me to shirk some responsibilities, and looking back I regret not being the bigger man in most of these situations and just letting it slide.  Perhaps if I had been more understanding and less pugnacious my time teaching would have gone more smoothly.

Despite these issues, however, I heard not a single complaint concerning my teaching from the schools I worked for, and if they said anything negative it was kept from me.  The only feedback I received from Touba was overwhelmingly positive, and I asked her on numerous occasions whether anything had changed.  The lovely Natalie Levy often critiqued my teaching methods, and I happily accepted her criticisms and attempted to improve.  The Chinese teachers who worked by my side (not to be confused with the facilitators) all seemed very pleased with me when I entered and exited my classes, and my kids loved when I showed up.  I even taught a few classes to start slow clap chants for me when I entered the room, “jake. Jake. Jake! JAKE! JAKE! JAKE!”  I legitimately have developed a fondness for young children that I did not possess 6 months ago, and I really did shed a tear when Debbie told me in Chinese that she would miss me.

As I have stated, there have been many peaks and valleys throughout this semester. While it may seem like I walked along a craggy path, the majority of my tenure in China has been overwhelmingly positive.  Most of the people I work with are kind, loving and light-hearted people.  It is the end of an era here and I will always look back on my time here fondly.