Thank you, teacher!

Thank You, Teacher!

This is what every class at my school ends with.  The class leader says, “Stand up, please!” and everyone dutifully gets to their feet and says, “Thank you, teacher.  See you again tomorrow (or “next time,” as the case may be; I have not yet had the heart to explain that we don’t say “see you again next time” in ordinary conversation)”.  The manner with which this sentiment is expressed varies from enthusiastic to perfunctory depending on the student, the time of day, and how the lesson went, which seems only natural.  And I would hazard to say that the students do actually understand what they’re saying, which is not equally true of the ritual exchange that begins every class:

“Good morning, teacher!”

“Good morning! How are you?”

“I’m fine thank you, and you?”

I know that they don’t all always understand what they’re saying in this case because: 1) they often say “Good morning, teacher” regardless of the time of day; and 2) if I throw a wrench in the works by not asking how they are, or if when asked how I am, I say something other than “I’m fine,” even if I follow it with “How are you?” I am often met with stares of incomprehension.  There is also the fact that when asked “How are you?” outside the context of the classroom ritual, students (at least at the beginning) were often unable to respond with anything other than a shy smile or pretended not to hear, until I repeated the question, which I invariably did.

In any event, what I am curious about and still working towards an understanding of is if and how the general appreciation of teachers and education (which numerous people have told me is central to Thai culture) takes shape in the concrete conditions of learning for both students and teachers, and in the conditions of labor for the latter.  At my school, which I take to be relatively average, there are three grades of kindergarden and grades 1-9.  The classes range in size from around 20 to 40 students.  The classrooms are crowded (and usually hot, given the climate and the lack of AC), which makes any activity that requires moving around on the part of the students challenging.  There is a chalkboard made from cheap materials, so it’s difficult to write on (and that’s about the extent of AV equipment).  The students stay in the same room, and the teachers move from room to room, so teachers do not really have their own space.  But there is one teachers’ room for each group of 3 elementary and secondary grades.

I haven’t figured out how access to teaching materials works and whether I am given a special budget because I’m ‘the American’ or not, but there seems to be enough to buy whatever paper, cardboard, markers, tape, laminate, etc. that I need.  I also have access to a color printer and copier.  I have no idea what materials the other teachers use or how they teach for that matter since I have never observed any classes other than my own, and even observing my co-teachers never really panned out, as detailed in the previous post.

My host mom, who is the equivalent of a vice principal, told me that all public schools are funded federally on a per student basis.   So a school like mine receives an average of $57 per kindergardener, $65 per elementary student (grades 1-6), and $117 per secondary student (grades 7-9) annually from the Thai government.  This money goes towards paying basic teaching materials (pens, paper, chalk), equipment (AV, sports, extracurriculars, etc.), and infrastructural maintenance costs (electricity, water, phone).  (Teachers’ salaries are paid from a separate fund, also federal.)  Apparently, there can also be supplements to the school budget from the local community or from local businesses.  It’s kind of hard to work out comparisons because I have no idea how much things like utilities cost here, and only a minimal understanding of how much pens and paper cost.  That being said, it’s probably a fair bet that the amount spent on education per student, relatively speaking, is far below that in the U.S.  What that money gets you is an open question, which I will try to explore in future posts.

In any case, teaching is not a thankless profession in Thailand (one aspect of which I’ll discuss in the next post).  Even in the relatively brief time that I’ve been here, I’ve seen the respect paid to teachers by students and in the general community alike.  It’s clear that the title “teacher” carries weight in terms of your social status, and although it’s actually embarrassing to me, I’m always introduced as Dr. Chris Luebbe.  (I don’t have the heart to tell people that in the States this title is of dubious social value at best.)  So, however mechanical some of the “Thank you, teacher”s at the end of class might be, I know that the general educational endeavor in which I’m engaged is valued here.  My only hope is that I can make concrete improvements in how it’s carried out, at the very least at my school and for my students, which if accomplished is more than thanks enough.