Open Lesson, OH MY!

     Any new Native English Teacher in Korea quickly learns to anticipate and dread the term, "Open Lesson." This means one must prepare the swankiest lesson one can imagine that incorporates all the available technology in the English classroom. Mind you, this technology is extensive. The Korean government recently dropped billions of Won updating English classrooms around the country with touch screen blackboards, sound systems, document cameras, microphones, the whole nine yards. It's incredible. But when asked to show it all off, it's intimidating. Some teachers avoid this blight, but for most it is inevitable.

     My lotto number was called in October and November 11th, after several weeks of preparation, we gave our lesson in front of teachers from nearby schools, the principle, vice principle and other people from the Metropolitan Office of Education. I'll spare you the description of the last few weeks of planning, revisions, cutting, laminating, dry runs, critiques from our consultant (yes, the MOE sent in a consultant) and skip to the big day. 

My Classroom and Co-teacher, Mrs. Park



      In the morning, my co-teacher and I ran through the whole lesson together one last time to rehearse our parts. All our materials were set up, the powerpoint files were open and ready, the CDrom was in the drive. Ok. What now? 10 people descended on our classroom bringing a few dozen folding chairs, a banner, a carved podium inlaid with mother of pearl, a velvetine flag and several potted plants. Pimp my classroom? Yes, please. Out in the hall, a table was covered with a real table cloth and spread out with 5 different kinds of cookies, tangerines, tea and coffee. Then more people arrived with wads of rainbow ribbons, which they festuned between two posts in front of the main door of the classroom. I couldn't believe the amount of swag. But I had been forewarned: Koreans love to put on a show.

Ribbon Cutting



The Suits. Not intimidating at all, right?



     Around 1:30pm people started making their way into the classroom. This was the time to schmooze and mingle: easier said than done with the language barrier. When in doubt, smile and bow. I did a LOT of smiling and bowing. After a ribbon cutting ceremony, everyone took a seat and the Principle gave a speech. Then two more men in suits gave speeches, I didn't understand a word. Smile and bow. Then the children marched into the room in a perfect, single file line, sat and bowed. Yeah right, you little fakers. I surpressed an eye roll.







  The lesson went off without a hitch. The children answered questions perfectly and followed directions to a T. Afterward, my co-teacher and I sat down with the other teachers and the MOE officials and received feedback about our lesson. They had only good things to say about it to my ENORMOUS relief.

I wouldn't call the experience "fun", but it certainly was memorable and, in the end, positive. The attention to detail and the effort that went into this elaborate production was a sharp contrast to the American public education system. This country really does think education is of the utmost importance and it shows. I might not agree with all of their methods, but I respect their attitude and think our country could learn something from them.