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Tom Tuohy

EFL teaching in Thailand

What’s the best and the worst class you’ve ever taught?

1st July 2009

Go on admit it - we've all, at some point or other, been in situations in a classroom environment when we were close to losing it. I don't just mean having an off day when everything you did went pear-shaped, and try as you may, you just couldn't make any activity work.

No, I'm talking about times when you were within a hair's breath of strangling one or many of your charges: when acts of violence seemed only moments away and you had to pull every fibre of your being together in order to restrain yourself from doing something that would stop you from teaching ever again.

Equally, there have no doubt been times when you have actually looked forward to going to teach because the students were all a paragon of virtue, bringing you fruit and cakes, and other assorted gifts, and being as mellow as a deer. Such students are rare, but I have been fairly fortunate to have many classes where I can say, hand on heart, they were a joy to teach! This month I'm going to share a few of my horror moments, and next month a few of the lighter ones as well.

The horror, the horror

Having been teaching for more than twelve years in places like Japan, the UK, West Africa, Thailand and the Kingdom of Saudia Arabia, I guess you could say that I would have inevitably had a few moments when I was far from in control.
I remember once when I hadn't been teaching long, I was about to go home when the Burmese manager of my school at ECC came up to me and asked if I could fill in for a colleague who'd just been told that his sister had been fatally injured, and that he had to return to Ireland for the funeral.

Thrusting a copy of Headway into my chest and a class register, he promptly started to march off somewhere else. Trying to seize the initiative, I had the presence of mind to ask him, "what time does the class start?" to which he replied, after checking his watch, "ten minutes ago". Up I hurried mentally trying to come up with a plan, what is often called in this business "door handle" planning.

When I arrived, I was greeted by about eight students who all looked at me with a mixture of dread and disgust. Still somewhat of a greenhorn, I should have seized the moment and exerted my authority right there and then, but didn't and was about to learn a very good lesson in classroom management.

Little did I know that these students worshipped the ground that my Irish colleague walked on, and that when I walked in, I could have been Mother Theresa, and it would not have mattered a jot. Also, I was not to know that this was the last class of a 40-hour course where the end-of-course test had been already completed, and the students were only there to have a party for the aforementioned teacher. This I should have guessed when I saw a few plastic cups and bottles of pop partially hidden under some of the chairs.

"Good afternoon" I said, "I'm your teacher for today", trying to sound authoritative. I didn't work. "Who can tell me where you all are in the book?" Silence. I looked around the room. "Ok, let's take the register" I said, trying to rescue things. More silence. When names were called, answers were offered somewhat begrudgingly, and soon the register was complete.
I decided to bite the bullet. "Ok, turn to chapter twelve. We are going to look at the present perfect continuous". More silence. This really was new territory for me, and I started to realise that every time I gave instructions, the other students' eyes would all gravitate to an older Poo Yai lady in the corner with expensive looking Rayban sunglasses.

Writing on the whiteboard the form of the present perfect continuous, I tried to elicit some examples from the students, but again nothing was offered. Remembering what I was once told by my PE teacher at school in London, namely that if I was in a difficult situation, perhaps cornered by a group, "always go for the biggest and strongest first" he had told me.

With that in mind, I turned to Mrs. Raybans and asked her to give me an example of the present perfect continuous, but she just sighed and shook here head. More silence. "Can anybody else help Jim?" (Mrs. Raybans). More silence. Not to be outdone, I wrote some examples on the whiteboard and again elicited some use for the present perfect continuous. More silence.
Finally, when the silence had become deafening, I decided to find out what the problem was. "Do you want to study today?" All eyes turn to Mrs. Raybans. The heads go down in a semi huddle, and some whispering in Thai ensues like those contestants from the University Challenge quiz show.

"No" says Mrs. Raybans quite pointedly.
"Ok, would you like another teacher?" More discussions.
"No" says Mrs. Raybans.
With little dignity left, all I could do was pick up my things and politely leave.
The following morning, I bump into the Burmese manager again and he has a big smile on his face.
"How was your fill-in class yesterday?" he asks.
"Not so good" I reply. "They didn't seem to want to study".
The Burmese manager laughs.
"You know the older lady? With the sunglasses?" he asks.
"Yes?"
"She says you ‘shamed her with your eyes!'"

More like space cadets

On another occasion, I was in Saudia Arabia teaching a bunch of Royal Saudia Arabian Air Force cadets. As usual, they were completely knackered having run around the parade ground in the day, and from being woken up at all hours of the night to be brutalized by the Saudia officers.

In fact the hardest part about teaching these cadets was not that they were lacking in any discernible language skills, but in trying to get their attention when all they wanted to do was sleep. However, with officers walking past the classrooms every few minutes or so, they knew that this was not a viable option, and it was my job to give them a chit for punishment if they were disruptive or fell asleep.

On one occasion, two cadets fell asleep. I asked the cadets next to them to wake them up, but they wouldn't budge. I tried again, but anything I said fell on deaf ears, so having no choice, I went over to my desk and began to write out their names on the punishment chit.

Suddenly, one student wakes up, sees what I am doing and walks over to my desk in a threatening manner.
"What you do teacher?"
"I'm writing out a chit. You have been warned three times and now you will have to go and explain to the officers why you were sleeping."
Then the other cadet wakes up and walks over to my desk.
"Why you give me chit teacher?"
"Because you were sleeping."
"Yes, but why teacher?"
I explain again.
"Yes, but why teacher?" repeats the first cadet.

This goes on for another minute, like a Laurel and Hardy skit, and then feeling I have no other option or I'll lose control of the entire class, I give them an ultimatum.

"Either you both go to see the officer, or I will go there myself and explain that you refused to go!"
Some Arabic is exchanged and I can see that the first cadet is visibly angry. His face looks like Mt. Krakatoa before an eruption.
"Ok, I go to officer and tell him you said f**k **f".

Initially, I am shocked and am not sure that this is what he has actually said, so I ask him to repeat it. He does although it comes out as fack up (or something like it). A few gasps are evident from the less troublesome cadets and I now know for sure that this linguistically challenged cadet really has said what I thought he said. With little choice I pick up my things and go to see the officer. Half an hour later, I look out of the window and see both cadets standing alone in the parade ground, the temperature probably around 45 degrees C, and all I can see are two bodies swaying rhythmically in the Arabian sun.

Book him Danno, murder one...

On another occasion in the same classroom in Saudia Arabia, it was break time, and I was reading some course material. As usual, cadets were mingling in and out of the classrooms, as was their habit. One cadet came in and sat down in a cadet's chair adjacent to my desk. Largely ignoring him when he kept asking me my name and such like (a common occurrence), I carry on reading.

Next thing I know I feel a thud on the side of my face. The cadet has picked up one of my student's books and hurled it at me before fleeing from the classroom. Again the officer comes to the class, I explain, and that cadet is seen in the parade ground doing one-handed press ups in the hot sun.

During my time there, I had various items stolen including an expensive pen, had my teacher's bag rifled through many times, and witnessed a cadet deliberately sneeze all over a new teacher with the result that green snot was seen trickling down his shirt!

Boys will be boys

Once in Japan, I was required to teach a 7-year old called Keko who hated English almost as much as I hate those slimy, green things they put in Big Macs. The lesson always followed the same dynamic. In would walk the little monster, usually 5-10 minutes late, dragging his satchel on the floor, and a look on his face that would make a recent widow look happy.

When I asked him to get out his books and his pencil case, he would do so, but with the speed of a wounded sloth or some other incredibly slow-moving animal e.g. a panda bear. There were times when I thought he was in slow motion so slow were his movements. Then came the coup de grace: always the same without any deviation in timing or character.

Somehow, mysteriously, his pencil case would fall on the floor as if by magic, and he would get down on his knees to pick all the contents up. It didn't matter what I said or how I entreated him to pick them up quickly and put them on the desk, for he would sit there and, one by one, put each pencil, pen, crayon etc., into exactly the place designated for it in his pencil case! Then about ten minutes later, he would emerge from under the desk, a big smile beaming on his face, and the lesson proper would begin.

When I told the Japanese owner of the school, Mayumi, what happened, she quoted an English idiom back to me - "Boys will be boys. Isn't that what you say in your country?"

Tom Tuohy is a teacher and writer. His book - ‘Watching the Thais: From the Outside Looking in' - is published by Legend Press, the UK. Versions in both Thai and English will soon be published in Thailand. You can access Tom's blog here.

Tags: teacher problems teaching in asia teaching experience student discipline student problems student behavior teaching adults