The Classroom

Classrooms at my school are simple; rows of bolted-down desks face a blackboard to the front. The teacher’s 6-inch raised stage and podium face the students. An additional blackboard is in the back of the room, usually covered in the week’s message.

It took me some time to adjust to standing above my students. I’d put my laptop, clipboard, and teaching supplies on the podium at the beginning of class while all my students were watching. I was quite literally a performer on a stage, for hours at a time. When I drank from my bottle, my students would stare, “he’s drinking so much water,” “is the water hot?” “his bottle is so big!” It was a Nalgene, and the water was room temperature, and, yes, I do drink an enormous amount of water. But I need to. I spend so much time repeating myself, my throat is bound to go dry.

I did, eventually, get used to my new position up high, and I did, eventually, come to find its uses. From up high I could see which student’s heads were looking down (cell phones), where were taking notes, which were sleeping, and which were confused. It has its limits, though, and I still find myself more comfortable roaming the rows while I talk. Being face to face with my students makes it easier to read how well they follow me so that I know how many times I need to repeat myself.

The students all sit in blue, plywood chairs. The chairs mostly slant downward, not because they are old, but because it seems they were never designed for sitting in. The hinges are all wearing down and the bolts that hold down the entire row often come up. In one humorous moment, a whole row fell backward with the desk on the lap of those behind them. The next week, no one sat in that row. It’s always frustrating to see something break in the classroom, because nothing is ever repaired, not the blackboards that are peeling from the walls, the outlets that have long stopped working, nor the desks and chairs that can barely hold up a 5’ petite Chinese women.

And yet, to my amazement, my students work with and/or around all these problems. They function in the classroom without pause. When one thing breaks, they all laugh, and simply move onto the next desk. When we form groups, they find new postures to accommodate their immobile seats. When the chalkboard doesn’t hold the chalk well or they simply forgot their glasses, they take pictures with their phone and use the zoom function to get a better look.

This attitude of accommodating one’s surroundings extends beyond the classroom. With infrastructure always in one of two places, under construction, or in disrepair, all my Chinese friends seem to have developed an amazing ability to do what they need to do despite their surroundings. In this regard, I’ve learned a lot from my friends, students, and environment. Coming from a mindset of crafting an environment most conducive to my goals, I’ve had to reverse my thinking and change my ways to find whatever path can be afforded. As a result, I feel more comfortable in strange environments with the confidence that I can get done what I want to, even if the chairs only move when they’re broken.