We're sitting at the Crescent and Vine on Ditmars Boulevard taking our time on some beers and discussing the art of diplomacy. We have been friends since my first week as an international student in New Zealand, and now we live in the same city. In fact, my friend now lives in my old neighborhood, Astoria, and we're five minutes from where I used to live years ago. An ironic way to celebrate my first month of residence in Manhattan.
This friend is an environmental lawyer. He's doing well for himself now. He wasn't two years ago. He understands what it's like to be scrambling for work and barely getting by. He knows that your character isn't determined by outward circumstances, and that the roller coaster goes up and down for everyone. He just finished explaining to me this game he loves to play called "Diplomacy." Apparently he's a regional master or something like that. It's just a game, but it's based on the real world idea of diplomacy between nations. You make alliances, people betray each other, etc. However, the one golden rule that continually leads to success and all of the best players admit to adhering to is that honesty is the best policy. Be truthful, even when you're going to do something the others don't like. Then they at least respect you and don't feel cheated. I explained it as Chung Fu earlier. He found it in his own way.
He talked a little about learning the art of politics in a governmental organization. Who to side with and whether or not they will be around long enough for it to matter, or not pissing off people who are leaving but might come back, and so forth. I've been watching The Wire a lot lately, so that's what I've been thinking about. It's a sickening reality that so much of the world is run by egos manipulating outcomes with no regard for justice or the best quality for the most people simply because they have the power and they want to prop up their own careers so they can get the money and accolades that go with the territory. Of course, the money and accolades are based on hollow accomplishments. As Mark Twain said, "It is better to deserve honors and not have them than it is to have honors and not deserve them."
Speaking of which, at a much lower but more personal level, I felt it again at work yesterday. I finally finished teaching a five week course to a level 5 class with, let's say a level 7 text book and therefore level 7 material. It was not an easy class to teach. Most of the students were nice, but half of them were the shyest class I've ever had (probably because they were afraid of the advanced material) and one section was the most absurdly talkative group I've ever had in my life. I would literally tell them to stop talking, and then a different one would start talking, and I'd say that I meant them too, and then another one would start talking and I would have to say, "As in you, stop talking, right now, you are disrespecting all of your classmates who are trying to learn." Adults, supposedly. Of course, most of the students did not do well on the test, even though we spent three days reviewing exactly what the test would be.
At least the students who were doing well in class did well on the test, so I did not fail them as a teacher. The others simply couldn't handle it. I've had this woman from Togo for 15 weeks now, in three different classes, and she complained after the test that, "My teacher wouldn't help me on the test!" Everyone kept asking me how to do questions. Not clarification of instructions, but basically what the answers were. Luckily, the tests don't really matter, because I'm the only one who sees them. Eventually I didn't even grade them, partially because they were so bad and mostly because I had only 20 minutes to grade 20 tests, and the tests were written sentences, not multiple choice. I looked at each one to see how each student did, and none of them surprised me, and I graded them based on how they had done the whole course, as I'd given plenty of sample questions and looked at each one's notebook and corrected and explained each question to each student. I thought it was more important to use the last ten minutes of class to go over the test and explain the answers as opposed to marking everything in red and giving them low numbers so they would feel bad about themselves. I told them they were all going to do excellently in the next level because they'd already seen the material, and not to worry about not getting it immediately. Then I said good bye to them. I was excited to move on because they were going to mix the classes up into three advanced sections, so I would probably have a diverse class with an interesting new book the next five weeks. Not my life goal, but something interesting to sustain me while I did what I have to do.
After teaching my next class, which unfortunately is a Level IV class that uses the same simple book with no room for creativity that I've had to use with my Level IV class on Sunday's, my supervisor called me in to give me my new assignment for my 10:00 class that begins on Monday. Level IV. Same text book. New Beginnings. Irony. Same material. Back to back classes. One week of separation between material. I couldn't believe it. Not only did that go against the agreement when I was hired that I would be teaching advanced level classes, but I am teaching the exact same material for all three of my classes, including the Sunday one. I could barely handle it once a week because it was so dull and the student abilities to communicate were so limited. I don't blame the students. They're usually nice. But I can feel my brain cells going to waste each day I spend once again explaining the difference between much and many, few and a little, less and fewer (a mistake native speakers make all the time, so it's not important anyway).
I expressed my disappointment to my boss as sweetly as possible. She tried to sugarcoat it by using the same explanation she gave when she assigned me a Level IV class last week: retention of students seems to drop off sharply after Level IV, and because all of my Sunday students signed up for Level V, my name came up as a good way to keep the Level IV students interested in coming back. One class is hardly a good sample size on which to base such a decision. All of my level V students want to continue also, but they don't care about that, because once they're that far they usually continue anyway. They want me in Level IV because they think the students will like me and get the impression they will get to continue to study with me, when in reality they won't, but the school will make more money by keeping students in the program. So supposedly (who knows if this is true) because I did well (or more likely simply because the students' personal lives and schedules permitted it) I got the shaft by having to teach lower levels.
Words are my life. I feel like they've been going to waste at this job, but at least there was some diversity and I could bring a little something extra to the students who were capable of understanding. It seems as though despite the supposed admiration and appreciation of my work, lately they've been inadvertently doing everything they can to make me unenthusiastic and longing for a change.
After I received the news I still felt very good because it was Friday, warmer than it has been lately, and I've been feeling physically primed. Even as she told me the disappointing assignment that certainly represented a victory for the pink robots in my personal battle against the tyranny of the dull mind, it seemed to make sense because it will be for February and early March, and things always seem to get tougher before they get better. It only seemed natural that I should be tested this way. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise. Maybe I will have to work extra to generate excitement in myself and my students while I am there but have less energy drawn from me because I will be explaining simpler concepts, and I will have more energy after hours for writing and tutoring (still waiting on training to start).
Later, as I talked with this wise friend, I remembered that not only are challenges inherent in life, but most people have dreams of focusing on what they love and find much bigger obstacles than I have. For so long I felt like master of my own destiny while I was on the road, and it's really bothered my psyche to be beholden to bosses. I find myself fantasizing about having enough money to move to something new. But it's better than not having a job while the debts accrue further.
Gotta love Ganesha and those obstacles. They will move soon enough.
Futurama:
This friend is an environmental lawyer. He's doing well for himself now. He wasn't two years ago. He understands what it's like to be scrambling for work and barely getting by. He knows that your character isn't determined by outward circumstances, and that the roller coaster goes up and down for everyone. He just finished explaining to me this game he loves to play called "Diplomacy." Apparently he's a regional master or something like that. It's just a game, but it's based on the real world idea of diplomacy between nations. You make alliances, people betray each other, etc. However, the one golden rule that continually leads to success and all of the best players admit to adhering to is that honesty is the best policy. Be truthful, even when you're going to do something the others don't like. Then they at least respect you and don't feel cheated. I explained it as Chung Fu earlier. He found it in his own way.
He talked a little about learning the art of politics in a governmental organization. Who to side with and whether or not they will be around long enough for it to matter, or not pissing off people who are leaving but might come back, and so forth. I've been watching The Wire a lot lately, so that's what I've been thinking about. It's a sickening reality that so much of the world is run by egos manipulating outcomes with no regard for justice or the best quality for the most people simply because they have the power and they want to prop up their own careers so they can get the money and accolades that go with the territory. Of course, the money and accolades are based on hollow accomplishments. As Mark Twain said, "It is better to deserve honors and not have them than it is to have honors and not deserve them."
Speaking of which, at a much lower but more personal level, I felt it again at work yesterday. I finally finished teaching a five week course to a level 5 class with, let's say a level 7 text book and therefore level 7 material. It was not an easy class to teach. Most of the students were nice, but half of them were the shyest class I've ever had (probably because they were afraid of the advanced material) and one section was the most absurdly talkative group I've ever had in my life. I would literally tell them to stop talking, and then a different one would start talking, and I'd say that I meant them too, and then another one would start talking and I would have to say, "As in you, stop talking, right now, you are disrespecting all of your classmates who are trying to learn." Adults, supposedly. Of course, most of the students did not do well on the test, even though we spent three days reviewing exactly what the test would be.
At least the students who were doing well in class did well on the test, so I did not fail them as a teacher. The others simply couldn't handle it. I've had this woman from Togo for 15 weeks now, in three different classes, and she complained after the test that, "My teacher wouldn't help me on the test!" Everyone kept asking me how to do questions. Not clarification of instructions, but basically what the answers were. Luckily, the tests don't really matter, because I'm the only one who sees them. Eventually I didn't even grade them, partially because they were so bad and mostly because I had only 20 minutes to grade 20 tests, and the tests were written sentences, not multiple choice. I looked at each one to see how each student did, and none of them surprised me, and I graded them based on how they had done the whole course, as I'd given plenty of sample questions and looked at each one's notebook and corrected and explained each question to each student. I thought it was more important to use the last ten minutes of class to go over the test and explain the answers as opposed to marking everything in red and giving them low numbers so they would feel bad about themselves. I told them they were all going to do excellently in the next level because they'd already seen the material, and not to worry about not getting it immediately. Then I said good bye to them. I was excited to move on because they were going to mix the classes up into three advanced sections, so I would probably have a diverse class with an interesting new book the next five weeks. Not my life goal, but something interesting to sustain me while I did what I have to do.
After teaching my next class, which unfortunately is a Level IV class that uses the same simple book with no room for creativity that I've had to use with my Level IV class on Sunday's, my supervisor called me in to give me my new assignment for my 10:00 class that begins on Monday. Level IV. Same text book. New Beginnings. Irony. Same material. Back to back classes. One week of separation between material. I couldn't believe it. Not only did that go against the agreement when I was hired that I would be teaching advanced level classes, but I am teaching the exact same material for all three of my classes, including the Sunday one. I could barely handle it once a week because it was so dull and the student abilities to communicate were so limited. I don't blame the students. They're usually nice. But I can feel my brain cells going to waste each day I spend once again explaining the difference between much and many, few and a little, less and fewer (a mistake native speakers make all the time, so it's not important anyway).
I expressed my disappointment to my boss as sweetly as possible. She tried to sugarcoat it by using the same explanation she gave when she assigned me a Level IV class last week: retention of students seems to drop off sharply after Level IV, and because all of my Sunday students signed up for Level V, my name came up as a good way to keep the Level IV students interested in coming back. One class is hardly a good sample size on which to base such a decision. All of my level V students want to continue also, but they don't care about that, because once they're that far they usually continue anyway. They want me in Level IV because they think the students will like me and get the impression they will get to continue to study with me, when in reality they won't, but the school will make more money by keeping students in the program. So supposedly (who knows if this is true) because I did well (or more likely simply because the students' personal lives and schedules permitted it) I got the shaft by having to teach lower levels.
Words are my life. I feel like they've been going to waste at this job, but at least there was some diversity and I could bring a little something extra to the students who were capable of understanding. It seems as though despite the supposed admiration and appreciation of my work, lately they've been inadvertently doing everything they can to make me unenthusiastic and longing for a change.
After I received the news I still felt very good because it was Friday, warmer than it has been lately, and I've been feeling physically primed. Even as she told me the disappointing assignment that certainly represented a victory for the pink robots in my personal battle against the tyranny of the dull mind, it seemed to make sense because it will be for February and early March, and things always seem to get tougher before they get better. It only seemed natural that I should be tested this way. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise. Maybe I will have to work extra to generate excitement in myself and my students while I am there but have less energy drawn from me because I will be explaining simpler concepts, and I will have more energy after hours for writing and tutoring (still waiting on training to start).
Later, as I talked with this wise friend, I remembered that not only are challenges inherent in life, but most people have dreams of focusing on what they love and find much bigger obstacles than I have. For so long I felt like master of my own destiny while I was on the road, and it's really bothered my psyche to be beholden to bosses. I find myself fantasizing about having enough money to move to something new. But it's better than not having a job while the debts accrue further.
Gotta love Ganesha and those obstacles. They will move soon enough.
Futurama:
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