Wow, it has been so long since I've updated my blog that I'm sure it looked abandoned. The reason, quite simply, was that I had run out of things to write about, or at least things that I could put a positive spin on.
Life got a bit hectic in May when one of my British coworkers decided that he couldn't stomach life in Ankara, but eschewed resignation for the easier method of moving out of his school-owned apartment in the middle of the night and never showing his face again. Other teachers, including myself, were forced to take on lots of extra work to cover the classes he left behind. This tactic, sadly, is far from abnormal in the world of English teaching, and is part of a sad cycle. In many parts of the world, teaching English is sort of a backpacker job, seasonal work that you can pick up to make some cash while traveling. Schools invite this mentality by hiring any white face with a passport from an English-speaking country, with the misguided assumption that if you can speak English, you can teach it.
Meanwhile, these unqualified persons get into a classroom where students eager to become proficient in English start asking questions like, "What's the difference between 'a lot' and 'much'?" and then realize that their knowledge of English is so innate that they have no ability to explain it to others. For example, the words "right," "correct," and "true" in Turkish are all covered by the same word (doğru) and so it's common for a student to say, for instance, "Teacher, Americans eat hamburgers for every meal. Is it true?" The teacher will then reply, "Of course it is not true!" The student is asking for feedback on his grammar, while the teacher is refuting the stereotype expressed in the sentence. Try explaining to the student the difference in meaning between these words, especially for a new teacher with know knowledge of the Turkish language and why this particular distinction is incomprehensible to a native Turkish speaker. Yep, it takes a bit of effort, and a lot of backpackers find themselves overwhelmed in a pre-intermediate classroom where the students know only basic vocabulary and can't follow regular English.
In addition, some of these hippie backpackers find themselves unable to cope with such professional requirements as showing up on time to class, preparing for lessons, wearing pants without holes, and grading homework. Eventually, some of the less competent individuals decide to remedy their situation by escaping. The schools are left in a lurch, and develop an attitude that foreign English teachers are a crowd of shiftless bums who cannot be trusted with any sort of responsibility.
This justifiable suspicion makes life more difficult for those of us who take our jobs seriously. Schools are reluctant to go through the hassle of a work permit for someone who might take flight mid-semester, to say nothing of making other investments such as professional development or even basics like allowing access to the office photocopier. Foreign teachers are watched closely, and you get the impression that the administration fears you won't do your job if not hounded about it constantly.
With schools treating teachers this way, those of us leaning toward the more professional side are easily frustrated with the system. I would love nothing more than to be at a school where I could stay for a long time and get involved in helping the school to develop, to collaborate with other teachers, to organize outside activities for students looking for further opportunities to improve their English. But instead I notice that foreign teachers become inward-focused and defensive, avoiding the office as much as possible and never trusting anyone. "They just want to screw you over," a coworker advised me on the first day. "Make sure you get everything they promised in the contract, and don't do anything for them unless they're paying you for it!" Goodhearted teachers quickly lose hope and become cynical. They're quick to distrust schools, and when negotiation fails, they hop on a midnight flight back home without so much as a note to explain their disappearance. And the cycle begins again.
In such an environment, my daily struggle is to look past whatever the job is doing and focus on the students. Regardless of the administration, these good people are paying a lot of money to be in my classes and deserve to have the best lessons that I can provide them.
Working in a school that opens classes on-demand, whatever levels and courses have the number of students, exhausts the teachers. I find myself teaching the same lessons over and over again, but try to use the opportunity to go back and improve them each time. It's a call to constant humility, realizing that in a private school the will of the students triumphs over all and that I can never make everyone happy. It's an exercise in turning the other cheek, recognizing that sometimes a school's mistreatment of me is due to hurt from past teachers, and using my position to do the best job possible, hoping that my diligence can build a small amount of trust. It's a daily challenge to overcome the negativity that surrounds and desires to infest me, and to choose to be the ray of light rather than letting myself slip into cynicism. If any of these small acts makes a difference to my students or to my coworkers, then I'm not wearing myself out in vain.
Teaching English in Ankara is not an easy proposition for anyone, especially qualified teachers from Western countries who come bearing certain expectations for job contracts and work environments. But that's not to say it can't be rewarding. It is, if for no other reason than that once in a while you really help a student, and before you know it that person is off in Germany or Russia, sending you emails in ecstasy that they can be part of the international community and connect with other people thanks to their English lessons. That is what makes it worth it.
But I can only say this with certainty after some distance from a long, hectic summer. To escape, I spent three weeks in France and Croatia, an adventure which I plan to blog about before long. Stay tuned...
