Birthday Surprises!
Birthday surprises?!?
It's not only a "The State" reference, it's a fact of my life these days thanks to those crazy bastards I call my students.
I was going to write about something else this week, but after what happened this week, I've decided that a change of topic is most certainly called for.
Observe:
It's difficult being away from home during the major holidays. Why, what's Thanksgiving Day without your family and a turkey? Hardly worth giving thanks for, I say. And Christmas without presents and a tree? Hardly Christ-like. And what of the most important holiday of them all - My Birthday? Being unable to bask in the adulation and adoration of friends and family makes it seem hardly birthly or even day-like.
And so I wasn't particularly looking forward to my birthday this year. After all, it fell on a Monday, and I had classes to teach. Just another day. Nothing special. Or so I thought.
Or so I thought.
Incorrectly, as it turns out. My kids had other plans.
My Monday morning class is Group 2. As I walked down the hallway to my classroom, I noticed a lone student standing beside the doorway. This was odd, because on a typical day every last one of my students is huddled in the classroom, desperately trying to stay warm (there are no heaters in the classrooms). And yet this lone waif was shivering, alone, out in the hallway.
As I approached, she turned to me.
"Oh . . . Snow. Please wait."
She clearly meant to bar my entry. Any good teacher knows that an instructor must have a proprietary command of the classroom - after all, it is the educator's domain and teacher is lord over all who dwell within. I, however, am precisely the kind of teacher who can be barred from the classroom without explanation, so I went to take a piss.
When I returned, there was no sentry present, so I promptly entered the classroom. As soon as I opened the door, my students started clapping and cheering. The room was dark, but by the light of two candles I could read the blackboard: "Happy Birthday, Devin!". The candles, of course, were perched on the top of my birthday cake. Candles shaped like the numbers 2 and 7.
At the end of every class I hold a five minute Q and A session. During this time, the students can ask me any question they want, and I will answer them truthfully. These kids asked me once, two months ago, when my birthday was. Apparently they were listening.
"Make a wish!" they shouted. I made the same wish I've made every year since I turned seventeen and blew the candles out, to great applause. I then politely suggested that we begin class. "Noooooo", they shouted, and one student stood up and walked to the front of the room with a box in her hands. Apparently they had also brought presents.
My kids in Group 2 gave me a birthday card, a box full of candy, and a little plush dolphin. See them:
Very few candies left. I am getting fat.
Fortunately, I had a pretty decent class planned for the kids - because how much would it have sucked if I had proceeded to bore them all to death? Anyway, at the end of class I shared the birthday cake with them. This event rocked pretty hard and I figured that I had received my birthday miracle for the day (all of my birthdays are marked by a miracle of some kind). I assumed that the remainder of the day would proceed as usual.
Wrong again, Devin Snow!
Group 3, later that day, had no intention of being upstaged. Another blackboard message, another birthday cake (these cakes were meant to serve eight people, by the way), and another helping of birthday swag. Group 3 tends to worry that I'm going to freeze to death because I wear so little clothing all of the time (I'm a metabolic furnace). As such - BAM! They hit me with the pig's head hand-warmer:
The face of digital comfort.
In case you're unfamiliar with this essential piece of equipment, you warm your hands by putting them inside the pig. Please don't quote that sentence out of context.
I guess they imagine that I'm going to carry this around with me.
Happy birthday, indeed! Now I can have warm hands, a warm heart, and diabetes! I tried to unload most of the cakes on my students, but they kept insisting I take the lion's share home with me. I did, however, manage to unload one of my cakes onto my fellow foreign teachers. Problem solved!
Or so I thought.
Or so I thought.
The very next day, on my way to teach Group 4, I met with the same sentry-style tactics. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't even my birthday anymore. But Group 4 wasn't having any of that - what they were having was a heaping helping of "Happy Birthday, Devin!" (according to the blackboard). They also gave me this:
I am afraid to touch this.
Okay, this pendant - it's not colored class. It is, in fact, a kind of lead crystal. This type of artwork is called Liu-Li, and it's a traditional Chinese handicraft that dates back over 1000 years. The colors that you see are not in the glass - they're a refraction of light due to the extremely high lead oxide content (upwards of 24%). As you twist and turn the pendant in the light, the colors slowly change. Holy crap, what am I supposed to do with this thing?
In case you didn't understand my explanation of Liu-Li, perhaps my students' explanation will assist you in understanding:
I . . . see . . .
An image of a dragon is carved into the rear surface of the pendant. See him:
What is your wish?
Okay, seriously. What am I going to do with this? Wear it? I don't even like to take it out of the box. Before I took it home, the students warned me that if it ever got dirty, I must clean it with "pure water only". Those were their words, "pure water only". Trust me, this thing is getting framed or something. No way I'm wearing this.
No cake from Group 4, but the very next period I had Group 1 and POW! Cake.
Not the be outdone on the present front, Group 1 had brought more than cake. They decided to up the ante considerably with this offering:
HELL YES!
That's right, a complete set of the most successful and popular Olympic Mascots of all time - the Beijing Friendlies. All right, their English name is unbelievably stupid, let's agree to call them by their cool Chinese name - the Fuwa (福娃). I don't think you can even get these guys in the States. I've wanted a complete set of plushies from the first time I saw them. How did they know?
More wishes, more blowing, more cake. Throughout all of this, I'm overwhelmed by these genuine and clearly heartfelt displays of affection. All four of my classes showered me with cards and gifts, for reasons that are completely inscrutable to me.
But it didn't stop there. Two more of my students also gave me personal gifts, and here is where I run into a little difficulty. I have been mulling over the ethical problem of accepting these gifts. Groups gifts are all good - everyone chips in, no big whoop. But two girls gave me gifts on their own - gifts that they bought with their own money. This is causing me some consternation. Let me show you the gifts first:
The Jade Pig of Doubt
The Chopsticks of Self-recrimination
Okay, the pig I'm not so worried about (aside from the fact that my students clearly associate me with pigs). This girl has a boyfriend and I don't think the pig cost her all that much. She probably just saw it and thought of me. Still . . .
Anyway, the chopsticks are a much stickier wicket. I can assure you they weren't cheap. Not outrageous, but not cheap. I initially considered refusing this gift, but here's the thing - I know where this store is. It is not nearby. This girl had to ride the bus for two hours each way to get me this present. For my birthday. So what am I supposed to say to her? "Sorry, take it back."? I couldn't do it. Am I wrong? If she really wanted to give me this gift, am I to refuse her? This girl isn't an apple-polisher or anything - it's not about that. But the next most likely explanation is even worse, in oh so many ways.
Anyway, while you ponder that, birthday cards:
Note once again the appearance of the pig theme. They claim it has something to do with "the year of the pig", which is forthcoming. Truth, or convenient evasion?
So now I need your help. Obviously my kids are awesome beyond all reasonable explanation. Obviously this kind of generosity cannot go unreciprocated. I need to think of a way that I can make all of this up to them - because they so totally deserve it. Don't give me lame advice like, "play a fun game in class! Huurrrr!" because that is entirely insufficient. We need to throw the joy-jeep into overdrive.
The only thing I've thought of so far - their exams are coming up. I was thinking about making each and every one of them a little "exam time care package", with a little packet of tea, some candies, encouraging words, etc. Just different things to help them get through all of the studying. I know, needs some work. That's where you come in. Get to it.
You can consider it my birthday present.
It's not only a "The State" reference, it's a fact of my life these days thanks to those crazy bastards I call my students.
I was going to write about something else this week, but after what happened this week, I've decided that a change of topic is most certainly called for.
Observe:
It's difficult being away from home during the major holidays. Why, what's Thanksgiving Day without your family and a turkey? Hardly worth giving thanks for, I say. And Christmas without presents and a tree? Hardly Christ-like. And what of the most important holiday of them all - My Birthday? Being unable to bask in the adulation and adoration of friends and family makes it seem hardly birthly or even day-like.
And so I wasn't particularly looking forward to my birthday this year. After all, it fell on a Monday, and I had classes to teach. Just another day. Nothing special. Or so I thought.
Or so I thought.
Incorrectly, as it turns out. My kids had other plans.
My Monday morning class is Group 2. As I walked down the hallway to my classroom, I noticed a lone student standing beside the doorway. This was odd, because on a typical day every last one of my students is huddled in the classroom, desperately trying to stay warm (there are no heaters in the classrooms). And yet this lone waif was shivering, alone, out in the hallway.
As I approached, she turned to me.
"Oh . . . Snow. Please wait."
She clearly meant to bar my entry. Any good teacher knows that an instructor must have a proprietary command of the classroom - after all, it is the educator's domain and teacher is lord over all who dwell within. I, however, am precisely the kind of teacher who can be barred from the classroom without explanation, so I went to take a piss.
When I returned, there was no sentry present, so I promptly entered the classroom. As soon as I opened the door, my students started clapping and cheering. The room was dark, but by the light of two candles I could read the blackboard: "Happy Birthday, Devin!". The candles, of course, were perched on the top of my birthday cake. Candles shaped like the numbers 2 and 7.
At the end of every class I hold a five minute Q and A session. During this time, the students can ask me any question they want, and I will answer them truthfully. These kids asked me once, two months ago, when my birthday was. Apparently they were listening.
"Make a wish!" they shouted. I made the same wish I've made every year since I turned seventeen and blew the candles out, to great applause. I then politely suggested that we begin class. "Noooooo", they shouted, and one student stood up and walked to the front of the room with a box in her hands. Apparently they had also brought presents.
My kids in Group 2 gave me a birthday card, a box full of candy, and a little plush dolphin. See them:
Very few candies left. I am getting fat.Fortunately, I had a pretty decent class planned for the kids - because how much would it have sucked if I had proceeded to bore them all to death? Anyway, at the end of class I shared the birthday cake with them. This event rocked pretty hard and I figured that I had received my birthday miracle for the day (all of my birthdays are marked by a miracle of some kind). I assumed that the remainder of the day would proceed as usual.
Wrong again, Devin Snow!
Group 3, later that day, had no intention of being upstaged. Another blackboard message, another birthday cake (these cakes were meant to serve eight people, by the way), and another helping of birthday swag. Group 3 tends to worry that I'm going to freeze to death because I wear so little clothing all of the time (I'm a metabolic furnace). As such - BAM! They hit me with the pig's head hand-warmer:
The face of digital comfort.In case you're unfamiliar with this essential piece of equipment, you warm your hands by putting them inside the pig. Please don't quote that sentence out of context.
I guess they imagine that I'm going to carry this around with me.Happy birthday, indeed! Now I can have warm hands, a warm heart, and diabetes! I tried to unload most of the cakes on my students, but they kept insisting I take the lion's share home with me. I did, however, manage to unload one of my cakes onto my fellow foreign teachers. Problem solved!
Or so I thought.
Or so I thought.
The very next day, on my way to teach Group 4, I met with the same sentry-style tactics. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't even my birthday anymore. But Group 4 wasn't having any of that - what they were having was a heaping helping of "Happy Birthday, Devin!" (according to the blackboard). They also gave me this:
I am afraid to touch this.Okay, this pendant - it's not colored class. It is, in fact, a kind of lead crystal. This type of artwork is called Liu-Li, and it's a traditional Chinese handicraft that dates back over 1000 years. The colors that you see are not in the glass - they're a refraction of light due to the extremely high lead oxide content (upwards of 24%). As you twist and turn the pendant in the light, the colors slowly change. Holy crap, what am I supposed to do with this thing?
In case you didn't understand my explanation of Liu-Li, perhaps my students' explanation will assist you in understanding:
I . . . see . . .An image of a dragon is carved into the rear surface of the pendant. See him:
What is your wish?Okay, seriously. What am I going to do with this? Wear it? I don't even like to take it out of the box. Before I took it home, the students warned me that if it ever got dirty, I must clean it with "pure water only". Those were their words, "pure water only". Trust me, this thing is getting framed or something. No way I'm wearing this.
No cake from Group 4, but the very next period I had Group 1 and POW! Cake.
Not the be outdone on the present front, Group 1 had brought more than cake. They decided to up the ante considerably with this offering:
HELL YES!That's right, a complete set of the most successful and popular Olympic Mascots of all time - the Beijing Friendlies. All right, their English name is unbelievably stupid, let's agree to call them by their cool Chinese name - the Fuwa (福娃). I don't think you can even get these guys in the States. I've wanted a complete set of plushies from the first time I saw them. How did they know?
More wishes, more blowing, more cake. Throughout all of this, I'm overwhelmed by these genuine and clearly heartfelt displays of affection. All four of my classes showered me with cards and gifts, for reasons that are completely inscrutable to me.
But it didn't stop there. Two more of my students also gave me personal gifts, and here is where I run into a little difficulty. I have been mulling over the ethical problem of accepting these gifts. Groups gifts are all good - everyone chips in, no big whoop. But two girls gave me gifts on their own - gifts that they bought with their own money. This is causing me some consternation. Let me show you the gifts first:
The Jade Pig of Doubt
The Chopsticks of Self-recriminationOkay, the pig I'm not so worried about (aside from the fact that my students clearly associate me with pigs). This girl has a boyfriend and I don't think the pig cost her all that much. She probably just saw it and thought of me. Still . . .
Anyway, the chopsticks are a much stickier wicket. I can assure you they weren't cheap. Not outrageous, but not cheap. I initially considered refusing this gift, but here's the thing - I know where this store is. It is not nearby. This girl had to ride the bus for two hours each way to get me this present. For my birthday. So what am I supposed to say to her? "Sorry, take it back."? I couldn't do it. Am I wrong? If she really wanted to give me this gift, am I to refuse her? This girl isn't an apple-polisher or anything - it's not about that. But the next most likely explanation is even worse, in oh so many ways.
Anyway, while you ponder that, birthday cards:
Note once again the appearance of the pig theme. They claim it has something to do with "the year of the pig", which is forthcoming. Truth, or convenient evasion?So now I need your help. Obviously my kids are awesome beyond all reasonable explanation. Obviously this kind of generosity cannot go unreciprocated. I need to think of a way that I can make all of this up to them - because they so totally deserve it. Don't give me lame advice like, "play a fun game in class! Huurrrr!" because that is entirely insufficient. We need to throw the joy-jeep into overdrive.
The only thing I've thought of so far - their exams are coming up. I was thinking about making each and every one of them a little "exam time care package", with a little packet of tea, some candies, encouraging words, etc. Just different things to help them get through all of the studying. I know, needs some work. That's where you come in. Get to it.
You can consider it my birthday present.
posted by Devin Snow at 11:06 PM
3 Comments:
Not that I dont think that having two Nakano boys in China at one time this March isn't a significant enough blessing... hmm, I like your study week pack, but then again, giving tea to chinese people seems like giving a water fish, and I am pretty sure I am nearing a run-on sentence because I didn't put a capital H on 'hmm' after the ellipsis.
How about rather than helping them study (which if they are like Japanese kids requires some sort of strange ritual involving their towns local culture center) you hold some sort of post test "chat wth Devin" shindig. A shindig will suffice, you may want to go as far as a hoedown, though I think a hootenanny may be excessive and something they are entirely not ready for. It would be a celebration...bitches, an unwinding destressing post exam get together. You can find some sort of big room, get a bunch of junkfood, and a few nerf guns, or squishy balls, or any sort of mindless fun games. You can have all your classes come together and just eat, chat, play, whatever they want to destressify (it is a real word, your dictionary is just wrong.) Decorate the room, fill it with chips and chocolate and stuff of that ilk, go crazy.
Just an idea... well, to be fair, an excellent idea.
Man! They LOVE you, Devin! No, they WORSHIP YOU! Damnnnnnn!!! Well, if i were you, i'd have your mom fedex some popcorn and a film and watch it together! My kids love film and popcorn, and all of them are Somali! Listen, have your mom do that bro! They gave the staff each an LCD projector and i love the YOUTube.com site! lots of kickass films on it you can share with them, but i suggest you get a dvd player or something and watch a film and popcorn! movie day! They'll drool over Independence Day or something of that nature that their gov't censures...!
Oh, Happy B-day bro and may God bless you with many more! :-)
how many students do you have that you can make little exam care packages for each and every one of them?? I have 856, so I would run out of funds very quickly. my teacher used to give us pizza parties to reward us in the third grade... i suppose that doesnt help. hrm. i will think some more.
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