My Afterschool Job is off to a Great Start (not really)

December 1:  After school ‘John’ told me that my role is to be the fun teacher. I play games.   He teaches straight out of the book. Thanks for letting me know in advance, pal.  That would’ve been good info to have last Friday when the parents came to observe my class or, you know, before I started teaching at all. 

December 10:  ‘John’ criticized the telephone game I lead out in class.  It would’ve gone better if he had cared to help translate the instructions.  Instead, he sat there scrolling on his phone.  Not only that, I got the game from the book he gave me. 

December 16:  As my co-teacher, ‘John’ is supposed to remain in the classroom during the lesson in case students need a concept explained or instructions translated.  But this lout regularly sneaks out the back door 15 minutes into the lesson and doesn’t return until the period is almost over.  Today, two boys got into a fight while he was AWOL.  I asked him to please stay in the classroom during lessons.  If he had been there when the argument had begun, it would not have escalated to a fistfight.  This jerk had the nerve to blame me for not controlling the class.  Umm, discipline is not my duty, feckless oaf.  I’m the fun teacher, remember?  Besides, if students are fussing back and forth, they need someone to shut it down in their own language. 

A couple weeks ago something he did and said made me think that he’d had a crush (if not a full-on affair) with the white South African teacher who preceded me.  If my suspicion is correct, then I cannot compete.  I will never be her.  Is he angry that she left mid-contract?  The story they fed me is that she left because her mother had a heart attack, but now I wonder.  Is he trying to set me up to fail? 

At my interview the manager told me that my co-teacher spoke excellent English because he had lived in Los Angeles for 10 years.  When I met him for the first time, I thought to myself, either he lied or he spent his entire time in a basement in Koreatown. I know people who speak much better English after only one year abroad.  I almost feel sorry for his wife and three kids for having such a loser as a father and husband.

You know what else sucks?  He’s the intermediary between me and the company’s manager and director.  Ugh!

    

2015