I blame my behavior on Dead Poets Society

I just added a Media Gallery link at the top of the page that has a large collection of photographs all in one place from my time in Thailand. Enjoy.

A long lost (well maybe not exactly lost, knowing him he was probably waiting for me) good friend of my mine kindly and gently informed me that my movie knowledge was totally f@!@#$ up. Instead of Good Will Hunting I meant to say Dead Poets Society! I love being wrong but you know what-I get to talk to this friend who created a memory years ago with my son that has lasted for decades and he has always been there for me! Thanks Mike.

I have been actively pursuing different avenues to teach my Thai students English skills that are useful, applicable, and adaptable to their immediate environment. They are a diverse collection of M1 and M2 (7th and 8th grade) students who fluctuate between fluent English to “I have no idea how they are in my class”. For the past week they have had midterms which has left me ample time to lesson plan and figure out how to improve upon a preset curriculum.

The great news is I finished grading all their midterms and they all passed. Further, they exhibited considerable improvement in reading and writing comprehension. On the other hand, their speaking skills are a work in progress. Over the weekend, I came up with what I thought was a great idea to introduce movie clips from Good Will Hunting (update: actually its Dead Poets Society) beginning with the time when the students stood on their desks and said, “Oh captain, my captain”. The past several months has taught me my students watch American movies all the time on YouTube and I assumed this was probably a movie most of them had watched. I remember the first time I watched the movie, tears rolled down my face as Robin Williams walked out of the classroom for the last time.

I set to work weaving the Good Will Hunting (update: actually its Dead Poets Society) clip in with a foundational principle of introducing prepositions. Soon, I had a living breathing lesson plan that I was proud to carry into the next several days. It seemed bulletproof. At night, I imagined the students would be inspired, thoughtful, and engaged by the activities, quotes, movie clips, instructional videos, powerpoint presentation, and games. I wanted to hit them from every angle and leave them breathless at the end of class as though they had been in a heavyweight fight. Additionally, I decided to perform acting, skits, and challenge many of their cultural norms such as: standing on desks, proximity to persons, movement around the classroom, tone, vocal intonations, speech patterns, and use of props. All of this, I wanted to try and fit into 50 minutes of class time.

A little background might help set the stage for what I was about to try and do. Thai teachers are very traditional. Students must approach their teachers with the utmost respect. For example, if a teacher is sitting down then the students must be on their knees below the teacher. Wai’ing the teachers in the hallway in between class is mandatory and students stand at the beginning of class at which point they thank us for teaching and then say good-bye when I leave. Further, teachers never exit or enter the classroom via the back door; always the front door (I’ve made this mistake several times and the students always say something). Teachers rarely move from the elevated platform at the front of the class, teachers seldom if never sit down or lean on their desk, students are definitely not allowed to stand on any object(s), and students clean the room after class with brooms because there are no vacuums. There are more customs but that provides you with a general idea of what’s happening. If that was not enough, it is still common for students to get a rap on the knuckles from a thin wooden stick if they severely misbehave. I personally haven’t seen this happen but there are plenty of stories circulating around amongst the English teachers in all parts of Thailand to believe this is 100% true.

At 08:20am I started with my first M2 class (8th graders). I noticed they were rowdy and their energy level was focused on talking with their friends or testing whether I was going to enforce the no cell phone rule. I introduced the lesson plan, reviewed our goals for the class period, and asked everyone if they had seen or heard of the movie “Good Will Hunting” ((I should have said Dead Poets Society, fortunately my Thai students didn’t know the movie so they couldn’t correct me). I heard crickets. No-one knew what the hell I was talking about. Thirty-six deer in headlights looked back at me and the mini voice in the back of my head said, “You’re in trouble.” I played the clip and received a nominal acknowledgment that they kind of understood what was happening. I then played a short prepositions video clip and began acting out the various movements. I crouched “under” desks, jumped “over” chairs, ran “into” and “out of” the classroom, stood “near” students, ran “around” the classroom, stood “next to” students and so on.

They laughed uncontrollably, it was great, but as soon as I stood “on” the desk everything stopped. I looked down on them and they looked up at me. I could hear a pin drop. In fact, I think a black hole opened up in the back of the classroom and I hoped it had come for me. It seemed to me like I was stuck in the Twilight Zone and there was no return. I had crossed the imaginary cultural line and there was no going back. I gingerly stepped down from my perch high above the students trying to gain back control of the classroom. All thirty-six students continued to stare at me until one (I’ll never forget this) said, “Teacher. Teacher’s do not stand on desks.” Clear as day she admonished me in front of everyone. She was firm, direct, looked me square in the eyes, and made sure that I understood. I quickly shifted direction and had them work individually on their workbook for the last 10 minutes of class while I decided what to do about my next class which were M1’s.

I decided to throw caution to the wind. I figured they would never forget what I did plus the fact they were learning prepositions. Therefore, I decided to do it again but in a different way.

I walked into my M1’s classroom (7th grade) and went through the introduction process again. I arrived at the Good Will Hunting (update: actually Dead Poets Society) clip and like in the previous class-Crickets. The phrase “O captain, my captain” went flying over their heads and they had no idea what to think of the students in the movie standing on the desks. The preposition video clip was next and I decided instead to jump on “top” of a desk to visually show the preposition in action. I went through all the various actions and movements like I did in the prior class while sweat soaked my shirt. I noticed the students were reacting much better to my goofiness so I figured this was as good a time as any to perform my grand finale. I made my move to a students desk that was in front of and below the elevated platform. She looked at me and I looked back. I didn’t say anything but she cleared her desk for some reason while I crouched down ready to jump. I thought to myself that I could pull off the jump onto the desk based on the height ratio and the student for some reason had cleared her desk leaving me a clean flat surface. The video came to the part of explaining “jump onto” something at which point I leapt into the air. I landed with both feet on her desk when all of a sudden the desk slid back on the concrete floors and I went crashing backwards simultaneously pushing the desk into the student. I laid on my back dazed, confused, feeling a slight bit of pain in my back, thighs, calves, hamstrings, glutes, arms, and hands. What I’m trying to say is that I bit the dust-Hard!

I tried to recover quickly knowing I had not only broken a cultural taboo and fallen on my ass in front of thirty-six 7th grade students, but I might have hurt a student. I rolled over onto my knees and to my relief; I saw her laughing. She was wide-eyed, maybe in a little bit of shock but she and the rest of the class were laughing hysterically. I brushed myself off and continued the lesson knowing full well they would never forget the prepositional phrase, “The teacher jumps on top of the desk”.