I could feel beads of sweat beginning to drip down my back as I stood over the Xerox machine in the teacher’s workroom waiting for it to spit out the worksheets I needed for my next class. The little air conditioning unit mounted on the wall struggled to keep up with the afternoon heat. Just then, the door opened, and the school’s office manager, Ming, poked her head in.
“Teacher Jared, you have another student waiting in your office for a speaking interview.”
“Thank you, I’ll be right there.”
It was a busy Sunday afternoon at the Ubon SDA Language School. I had already interviewed several new students and placed them in classes. I was rushing to get ready for teaching, and there were still more parents waiting to talk with me. Things were a little hectic to say the least.
I quickly scooped up the warm stack of photocopies and headed for my office. Through the window I could see a girl sitting by my desk waiting for me. She was alone, looking down at the floor.
“Ming, is the girl here by herself?”
“No, her mother is over there.” Ming motioned to where the girl’s mother was sitting on the red vinyl sofa in the lobby. It was a hot afternoon, and I wondered why the girl’s mother wasn’t waiting in my office with her daughter where the air conditioner was running. I could feel my shirt sticking to my back now.
As I opened the door to my office, the girl looked up at me. When I saw her face I immediately sensed that she wasn’t happy to be there.
“Teacher Jared, here is her placement test.” Ming handed me the girl’s test paper. My eyes widened in surprise. It was a perfect score. In the two years since I took over as director of the language school, I had interviewed hundreds of students. This was the first time any prospective student had gotten a perfect score on the placement test.
“Good afternoon,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Fon.”
It’s hard to describe, but in that moment I felt like the Spirit gave me a flash of insight into this girl’s story. I usually have a fixed set of questions I ask in English when I interview new students. Each question builds on the last, and the grammar and vocabulary steadily increases in difficulty. I’m trying to quickly ascertain how much the student knows and what class level they should be in. But this time I didn’t follow my normal routine.
“You know a lot of English already, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You don’t really want to study English, do you?”
“No, not really.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think my English is already pretty good.”
I continued talking with Fon in English, our dialogue flowing easily. I learned that she was 12 years old and an only child. She had just started junior high at one of the highest ranked schools in Thailand. She told me her father was a soldier, and her mother was a businesswoman.
“Your parents don’t speak English very much, do they?”
“No, they don’t.”
“They put a lot of pressure on you to do well, don’t they?”
“Yes.”
As we talked, I could see the fatigue in Fon’s eyes. I could see that, at 12 years old, she was already burned out on school. The pressure to succeed put on her by her parents and her society had eclipsed any real love for learning. Her curiosity about the world had been crushed by the need to compete. I felt sad for Fon.
“Do your parents want you to study English here every day after school?”
“Yes, they do.”
“But you don’t want to, do you? You’re already very busy with school and after-school tutoring, aren’t you?”
“Yes ,Teacher, very busy.”
“I’m sorry. That must be really tough for you. May I make a suggestion? What if I tell your mother that I don’t think you should study every day after school? What if I recommend that you just do a private class with one of our teachers for an hour on Sundays? You can just come and relax and practice conversation with them. No pressure. No tests. Does that sound good to you?”
Fon looked up at me. A smile began to spread across her face, and her eyes lit up. I could see how much she appreciated that somebody understood her situation and wanted to help her.
“Yes, Teacher, that sounds really good. Thank you.”
In Asia, young children are increasingly being pushed into rigorous academic programs at an alarmingly young age. Competition between students is fierce, and the stress is high. Please pray that our language school will be a place where students can come and enjoy learning, a place where they find peace in the midst of life’s pressures. “Come and rest for a while . . .” (Mark 6:31).
