not in kansas anymore

You know that awkward, first day at a newschool feeling? In theory, you know what you’re in for: Being with a new group of students and teachers, a new schedule, and new environment. It’s all the same, but slightly different than before, so even though you’ve done this whole ‘school’ thing before, you still don’t quite know what to expect.

Turns out, even though my school days are well behind me, I still can’t shake that feeling. I’m sure it doesn’t really help either that my workplace also just happens to be a school.

After working at a handful of schools, I thought I had this English teaching thing down. Knowledge of what the present participle is? Check. Handful of games and lesson ideas that incorporate some form of grammar point? Check. Ability to deflect boys’ inappropriate questions (and also their anal-probing fingers)? Check.

What I forgot to prepare for though, wasthe fact that I’m now teaching in Osaka. I’m out of the quaint little town in Gifu and into one of the largest cities in Japan. Despite living in Melbourne, I feel like a country bumpkin who has moved to the big smoke. I’m absolutely swamped with students – 13 classes of 40 students as opposed to 6 classes of 35– and feel it’s even more impossible now to remember the sheer number of students' names. As a result of more classes, it also means I see each class only once aweek, some every fortnight, which also has resulted in me taking charge of the whole lesson to compensate. I know I can do the assisting part of the Assistant Language Teacher thing, but teaching? For a whole lesson? In my old school, sure I took charge of classes, but it was more like elective classes and when the English teacher was away – I was responsible, but at the same time, I wasn’t completely responsible in the event that no work was actually done.

Everything I did learn about Japanese schools may have also been only applicable to my schools in Gifu, too. I got the weirdest looks after asking what junior high school festival was, since it never really happened in Gifu. Chalk it up to paranoia, maybe, but I swear there was a slight condescending tone when I asked if the students ate kyushoku, or the school lunch. “Oh, how quaint. You had kyushoku at junior high in Gifu. We only have that in preschools and primary schools. You know, just for the little kids.” 


Okay, maybe they didn't say that, but I knew they were thinking it. I could tell by their looks.