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Starting a lesson

Nervously, she scanned the sea of faces before her. More girls than boys, a few wearing glasses, one or two with dyed hair, but otherwise a uniform black. The almond-olive eyes peered at her. Thirty-five young students, sitting in neat rows, were waiting for her to speak. The silence was tangible, and seemed eternal, but then the students rose, as if one.

‘Good Morning, White Teacher’, they uttered.

‘Good Morning, class’, she replied.

This was 23 year-old Rebecca White’s second lesson with the first years, and they had not remembered her request to call her Rebecca, nor had she forgotten the painful effect on her ears of the chairs scraping along the floor as they stood up and sat down.

Indeed, much of Rebecca’s first week was marked by the variety and intensity of the different noises she experienced. Every morning, there was the monotony of the muzak that accompanied the callisthenics. This was followed by the sporadic, but insistent chants of the first years as they practised their military drills, and even the catcalls of the second years as they observed in apathy and laughter. None of this, however, compared to the hubbub of the chatter and slurping in the canteen, and the surprisingly loud clanging of the chopsticks against the students’ metal trays.

The daytime noise was not assuaged by the volume of her neighbour’s TV every evening, and the construction works on the road outside the window, which seemed to continue 24/7.

As Rebecca observed her class, she mentally shrugged her shoulders. She had not come to China for a quiet life. She had come to serve her students. Reflecting on her stated aims for today’s lessons, she noticed how they were a pretty fair summary of her reasons for being in China – to give her students confidence in speaking English, to improve relations between China and the West, to build relationship between herself and the students, and, whenever possible, to introduce her students to Jesus.

She looked around her class – there was Lily, whose mother was a policeman, Jack, the class monitor, Peter who had said in the first class that he didn’t want a foreign teacher. Right now, Mary, a shy girl with big round spectacles, was fixing her with an anguished stare. Rebecca wondered who God had sent her to China to serve. Until she found it, she would simply do her best by all of them.

She turned around and began drawing on the board. Silence and patience, she decided, may be the best way to begin this particular lesson.

There are literally thousands of opportunities for English teachers in China, and the request for teachers seems to continue growing. Some of these placements require experience and qualifications, but other schools and universities are happy to accept teachers with a degree and a TEFL qualification (which can be obtained in five weeks).

OMF can facilitate teachers in China, offering emotional and spiritual support, and in some locations professional advice from more experienced teachers. We are always on the look out for graduates and others who have a heart for China, but no particular skill as yet. Go for a summer team, one year or more. Write to Andy at china@omf.org.uk to find out a little more and enter into a dialogue.