I went back to CA alone last winter, and during the 2 weeks that Anna and Nico-chan were alone here they had the good fortune of discovering a new, spacious dog park along our normal commute, complete with lots of friendly dogs and a few that are basically Nico’s besties.
After I came back and we started working again we became regulars there, going pretty much every day we could – Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and sometimes on the weekend (our weekend is Sun-Mon) as well.
As it happens, just as we’re closing our school at the end of May (today is our last day, and as I write we’re getting ready to move everything out), this place that has become a regular part of our lives is closing too. Something involving an evil landlord.
So however long we stay in Japan this summer we will be homeless as far as dog parks go. This distresses me more than losing our school – because we planned that – and makes our idyllic last month or so here feel rather empty. I use this blog to complain a lot, but even pessimists have to understand that a glass half empty is better than no glass at all.
I thought I would devote a little space here to expressing Thanksgiving-like tokens of gratitude for random things that made my life here better.
I’ve finished putting almost all our relevant information in spreadsheets, and have some statistics to share about the school we’ve owned and operated for the past 11 years and 9 months.
Number of students: 276
Number of regular students: 217
Number of business students: 59
Number private: 34 (among regular students)
42 students took more than one class type
As I said before, we had a small school. Some others in our industry have this many students at any given time. Read on for more, and if you’re curious read more about how I feel about leaving here, here, and here.
We’re in the final week of school here. Parents are taking books from our library home for the last time and we’re separating other stuff into “worth making room for at our house”, “worth keeping but no place to keep”, and “burnables”. Actually, those last 2 groups are the same. The most unexpectedly difficult adjustment is remembering not to say “see you next week” at the end of classes.
I’m also knee-deep in Orange County English School nostalgia, looking back on 11 years of determining curricula and choosing materials and the memories that those created.
I wrote a semi-academic article in the School Owners SIG Newsletter about how Dogme-style lessons didn’t exactly catch on like wildfire at my school, which I chalk up to students basically not trusting themselves to provide content. There have been other instances where something I tried didn’t work, and times too of course where something worked brilliantly. Here’s one story of success and failure in what will probably become a short series.
I’m going to start introducing some of my favorite class activities on this blog, both so other people can use them if they want to and so that I can remember how I used to work with small groups of kids.
First up: Apples 2 Apples, customized. For 3-30 players aged 6 and up.
There are other English schools in town. We’ve gone through stages of ignoring them, competing with them, and looking down on them; and now we have no choice but to entrust them with the students we’re leaving behind.
Some of our remaining students have come to us asking for recommendations of where to go after we close. A few of these have already taken trial lessons at the other places in town and reported to us their experiences. There is surely an element of flattery to their descriptions, and as much as I want to feel irreplaceable, I also want to encourage them to continue learning English under whatever circumstances they find themselves in, so I hesitate to take the same dismissive attitude that I’ve taken before.
We’ve believed for most of our tenure here that the other schools in town are more focused on making a living than pedagogy, for some observable reasons and some we just assumed. Therefore, hearing that a trial lesson with one of them is full of
Disembodied grammar and vocabulary
Almost no interaction that could be called authentic even with the teacher, let alone with classmates, and
Rushing from activity to activity with little downtime or back-and-forth
is gratifying – until I remember that we put our students in a position where they’re going to have to rely on one of those schools for English education from June onward. Suddenly there’s no joy in being better than them.
It’s always a frisson-inducing reminder of the length of your career when your first generation of students approach the age that you were when you were teaching them. Anyway here’s a story about our relationship with one of them that has a pretty pleasant beginning and middle. You’ll see the ending when you get to it and then you can decide if the entire episode deserves to be called positive or negative.
The canonical grammatical roles we all learned in JHS and high school don’t capture all the relationships that people can have to events. “The blob ate Jim” has a clear subject and object with an obvious relationship, but “Jim died on me” is a bit muddier. “On” in this case marks me as somehow a victim of Jim’s dying, and represents a usage of “on” that is rather opaque to learners in that it has no clear metaphorical relationship to the usual meanings of “on” and also depends on a lot of contextual knowledge to make sense. “Jim died on me” implies that Jim’s death negatively affected me in (to my ears) a vaguer way than “Jim died for me” implies that I benefited – “died for me” implies that he knew I would benefit, where as “died on me” doesn’t imply any intention on Jim’s part.
The online magazine that explores linguistic studies throughout history and boils them down to the good bits. Here you will find stories about inter-species adoption, the famous Olympian who helped Nazis found Adidas, and why you can raed tihs wthiuot a porbelm.