Blood in the Boardroom

I told the kid that if he kept running, he would hurt himself.

He stuck his tongue out and kept running.

What do you know, he tripped and bumped his face and his nose started gushing blood!

Despite tissue packets being even more rampant than swine flu in Tokyo, guess what ended up staunching his sanguinous nostril waterfall?

If you guessed "GTA's nice sweater from Zara that was soooo not on sale," you're right.

I guess I'm actually the pervert

In my 11/12-year olds class:

GIRL 1: NIPPLE!
GTA: What did you say?
GIRL 1: *points*
GTA: Oh...hippo. Not nippo, honey.

Two minutes later...

GIRL2: FUCK!!!!!!!!!
GTA: WHAT?!
GIRL2: Fokk?
GTA: Young lady--
GL2: *points*
GT: Oh. Fox. FOX.

I am mad, bad, and dangerous to know.

SeXXXy

One of my four-year-olds is very taken with me. She always crawls into my lap and, when we play Color Touch, likes to stroke my hair and cry, "Yellow!"

(Maybe I should get a new colorist...)

Today, I learned just HOW taken she is with me. She slid on the floor into my lap and wrapped her arms around me with a giggle. "Awwww," I crooned, "I love you, too!"

As she looked into my face and smiled, she started patting my breasts.

"No, honey."

Thoughtfully, as I disengaged her little hands, she snaked her arm out suddenly, grabbed my left nipple, and yanked it.

That's right, a four-year-old Japanese girl gave me a titty twister.

She did not get any points.

Prepositions

I taught prepositions to SmartEvil Class last Saturday. They were far too easy- in, on, under- whereas my kids rolled their eyes and screamed, "IT'S TO LEFT OF WINDOW!" which I did my bets to correct. That's difficult, considering how advanced the little weirdos are.

I tried to play it up by placing our cushions in weird places. I plopped one on my head and asked, "Where's the cushion?"

My quietest student piped up with, "It's on the Anna-teacher!"

I gave her ten points for that. She responded by hopping around in a delighted circle.

My next rundown of prepositions involved the students, and shoving the cushion in their arms or under their butts. At one point, I shoved it onto Little H's head and asked him, "Hey, H----, where's the cushion?"

He proudly answered, "It's on the H----!"

Even though the grammar wasn't perfect, I went to give him extra points, but he stopped me by tugging on my skirt.

Screwing up his eyes in determination, he said, "Chigao...it's on the ME!"

He got extra stickers.

Noun + Color

My smartest kids- who are, for the record, so wild that fellow teachers I've never met know who I am because my kids are a cautionary tale- had to learn color adjectives in conjunction with classroom nouns. I actually taught this lesson a week early because they are too fucking smart for the material I have to teach them, so last class I snuck in an extra review of previous material. Naturally, they blazed through it in a matter of seconds and then, as usual, demanded we play hangman. I allowed this because my company- and this is just my opinion- does not bother emphasizing spelling to the extent that I believe is necessary. And I am a fucking hardass. Especially with smart kids.

So, here we were:

"Blue crayon!"
"Green paper!"
"Yellow pencil!"

My kids being smarter than me, they came up with the following:

"Light orange and black eraser!"
"Chartreuse basket!"
"Black and white soccer ball!"
(after being shown a picture of a school building) "American school?" *raspberry*

The best, however, was yet to come.

One of my students in SmartEvil Class is not Japanese. I'm fairly certain that he has a Cambodian name, but I'm not positive. The kid and his parents speak fluent Japanese, so I never really thought about the issue. Sometimes the other kids give him minor amounts of shit- for example, screaming "KURO!!!!!!!!!!!!!" at him, or scrubbing his hands for him during cleanup time while everyone laugh hysterically as "H"'s hands don't get any less brown.

I love this kid because he is brilliant and because he is a spastic little weirdo. He likes to teach me karate moves and scream "NINJA TEACHAAAAAH!" He also likes it when I clock him in the head with my shoe.

Anyways, during the color + noun lesson, he skipped ahead of the others and identified me.

Pointing, Little H said, "WHITE TEACHER!"

I was laughing so hard, Little H's mother got worried.

Dear god.

White teacher.

I gave him five extra points for that.

Hell, he got the structure, didn't he?

Si Se Puede

Today, one of my four-year-olds followed me around chanting "BLACK MAN! BLACK MAN! BLACK MAN!" and smacking my ass.

I am a white woman.

Yaaaay

Kid grabbed my tit today. Guess it was just a matter of time.

Hey-ho, let's go.

Tales of Grossness

So, I learned something new last night.

When a nice young Japanese man shows you how to get on the absolute last train to take you home, it's apparently standard procedure for his friend to reach out and cup your right tit.

Golly, the culture here sure is fascinating!


My last kids' classes of the year went okay. My last group, which is the rowdiest, actually warmed my cold little heart. Favourite Student got so annoyed with his classmate's whining that he snagged the flashcards from me and started teaching the words to the bratty kid himself. I love that kid.

Racism is alive and well

Today's Thanksgiving activity included a colouring page. Along with TG standards such as turkey and sweet potatoes (which the kids, being Japanese, coloured purple), a family was depicted on the page. Your average nice, loving, non-denominational family.

I watched the kids carefully, doing my best to elicit some English words from them. ("What's this? A turkey? YEAH GOOD JOB DUDE HIGH FIVE YOU RULE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!")

One kid grabbed a crayon out of the box and started chuckling to himself. As I glanced at his colouring page, I saw that he'd coloured the family....BROWN. The horror!

As the other kids noticed, they, too, became mired in giggliness. Once the original li'l racist noticed, he switched from a brown to a black crayon, causing the other children to go into leg-kicking paroxysms on hysteria.

Finally, in an attempt to rectify what he clearly viewed as a perversion of reality, the kid started covering up the printed family's ochre/onyx taint with a white crayon.

All this time, I had to resist using a yellow crayon on my own Thanksgiving colouring.

This is why English teachers drink.

What I'm Thankful For

Reading a Thanksgiving story aloud to kids under the age of ten has a few unexpected bonuses. Names have been changed to protect the generally innocent.

GTA: *pointing to pictures in book* Where's the turkey?

GAGGLE OF CHILDREN (GAC): There! There! Turkey! *assorted turkey noises*

GT: Great job! Where's the...corn?

GAC: CORNCORNCORNCORNCORN!!!!
Japanese children love corn. Actually, all of Japan loves corn to a frightening degree, but let's not get into that right now.

GTA: Wow, good job, everyone! Okay...Ken, can you find another food in this picture?

Ken studies the picture solemnly for a minute, before breaking out into a wicked grin. He points to something on the page.

KEN: BABY!

Sure enough, he's touching a smiling baby, who was sitting innocently at the table and totally unaware that it was on the menu.

GTA: What? Babies aren't food!

KEN: Haha, baby!

GTA: Okay, everyone, repeat after me: babies aren't food.

GAC: BABIES AREN'T FOOD!!!!

I'm a good influence, after all.