Don't read this post. Seriously, just don't. Go right back to facebook and keep surfing. Or watch this video and make that song your ringtone.
I warned you. Go. Back.
I hate teaching fives. Hate it. The kids are so adorable, but only in a "I'd look at a picture of that kid" kind of way. I don't want to be in charge of their education. This is just like when I taught at the preschool, except at least then I signed up for it. This time, I was told I was teaching kindergarten, and three-year-olds are not kindergarten.
Thus far today, June has sneezed six times. Why do I know that number exactly? Because every time he sneezes, he blows snot all over his face. Seriously, I wiped snot off his ear. His freaking ear. The disgustingness of this is only rivaled by the fact that every time he sneezes, he stares at me with a look that clearly conveys that I am the only person in the world who could possibly be responsible for what has happened. He doesn't even attempt to get a tissue himself; that's my job, and my job alone. I've never wanted so badly to tell a three-year-old that he's a pretentious asshole.
On top of that, the kids don't listen to me. At all. My other kids spoke really good English, and they used their English all day long. The rule at GATE is "No Korean in the classroom," but that apparently doesn't fly in my class. They speak Korean all day. They talk to each other in Korean, they talk to my co-teacher in Korean, they talk to me in Korean. When I tell them to speak English, they just repeat back "English, English, English" in a high-pitched voice, then go on babbling in Korean. Basically, they spend the whole day mocking me.
Additionally, I'm expected to do activities that are significantly outside these kids' ability levels. We had to fill out a time capsule book today, and the kids had to write their names on the first page. I wrote my own name on the board and said a DOZEN times that they needed to write their names in the blank on their paper. What name did they write? I don't think I need to tell you. As we went through the rest of the book, my morale steadily fell through the floor, until I finally just collected their books and sang the Days of the Week song until lunch.
Speaking of songs, I have to sing a song for everything we do. A song for sitting down, a song for lining up, a song for cleaning toys, a song for eating snack, a song for eating lunch, a song for the days of the week, a song for the months of the year, a song for everything. Do you remember at the top when I said the kids don't listen to me? Okay, well that still applies. So I feel like a giant tool while I stand at the front of the room singing songs to a bunch of kids who think the only reason I was born was to wipe the snot off their ears.
I'm gonna go hang out with Brian.