Chris In China

My main reason for being here is not to learn Mandarin Chinese. It is one of my reasons, but primarily, I am here to teach Chinese students how to speak and write English more proficiently. With this in mind, I’d like to reveal a few observations that I’ve made with regard to the difficulties, differences and similarities that have arisen.
To begin with, these students’ English ability far surpasses my Chinese; the main reason is the amount of time they have devoted to learning a foreign language. Officially, all schools are now required to begin teaching the language when students reach the third grade, but in some schools, students can begin learning English in kindergarten.
There are many immersion schools in America, but foreign language as required by the government is unheard of. What the government does require under current policy (No Child Left Behind) forces teachers to decipher cryptic state-issued lesson plans with unrealistic and opaque objectives. They need a translator to teach English.
When I walk into the classroom, I do not have to worry about translating the lesson into Chinese: half of their learning experience is being immersed in the speech of a native English speaker. I can teach like any college-level English teacher would back home, using formal words and elevated speech in a way that makes my points more precise. Often I have to repeat or define some unfamiliar words, but I can always do it in English, and usually, the majority of the class understands in less than a moment.
Although my Chinese language class was, in the same way, taught by immersion, I had nobody there to hold my hand. From the very first class, billed as “A First class in Chinese for beginners,” I was lost amidst “ni haos,” “xie xies” and a flurry of “wo shis” — all without English translation — making my head spin and saturating it with the seemingly insane repetition of indistinguishable new sounds. I felt like saying, “If I didn’t get it the first time, I certainly won’t get it the 40th time, either.”
Our teachers taught using Chinese characters and Pinyin but only spoke Chinese and only spoke at one pace: fast. It served as a valuable lesson, because the pace and constant Chinese forced me to take on the challenge of learning the language with a more diligent approach.
Pinyin was developed in the 1950s under Chairman Mao. Mao envisioned it as a system give Chinese words a Romanized spelling so it would help foreigners with the sounds of Chinese language. But it hardly makes things easy. One word can have many meanings, and each word can have up to five different tones associated with it. Western languages are structured and spoken in a completely different way.
But my students cannot get enough of my attempts to throw in a Chinese word or two into my lectures, and whenever I give them praise in Chinese by saying, “right” or “very good,” they giggle with delight. I take that as encouragement and give them the same. From my (American) perspective, they deserve it.
Education the Chinese way typically involves excessive repetition followed by admonishment for mistakes and no praise for success. I have learned this by observing other classes and reading about the Chinese education system. Students are expected to know the correct answer, regardless of how it was reached. This is very different from the American style, where a student’s ego is constantly stroked and report cards track the student’s effort. You would never hear a Chinese teacher saying, “Nice try!” when a student got it wrong.
This fundamental difference in style between American teachers and Chinese teachers highlights a significant difference in the psychology of teaching between the two nations. It is true, both countries have an inherent entrepreneurial spirit, and both value hard work. But Americans are quick to praise, believing positive reinforcement garners positive results; whereas the Chinese are quick to rebuke, believing negative reinforcement is the most effective way to get the right answer.
Much to my dismay, this emphasis on being correct leads to constant cheating on quizzes and compositions. On the first day of class for each of my four classes (with whom I only meet once a week, each), the head of the English department came into the classroom to discuss plagiarism with the students. But because she said it in Chinese, I can only assume she told them how the West views this offense, and that the students should be on guard against it. Although I have yet to notice any flagrant violations, it is evident that some students take the easier path to success than others.
I cannot put the fault entirely on them. In reality, the system and society has taught them, over many generations, that there is nothing wrong with cheating, as long as the answer is correct. In fact, a student does not even have to be taking the examination in order to pass. There are students willing to take tests for them, charging anywhere between $50 and $3,000 to take English finals, nursing certifications and even college entrance examinations. To them, there is nothing wrong with skipping the studying and hard work.
When I asked a friend of mine who does this often about what happens if she gets caught, she said, “I took a test in human resource management on Saturday. I got caught and they told me to leave.”
“What happened to the person you were taking the test for?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she replied. “She paid me half, and I’m taking the test for her again in a month.”
It’s almost too simple and pragmatic for me to comprehend.
But learning to understand the Chinese way is the biggest difficulty of them all.

Chris Gauthier is a recent Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts graduate who is spending a year in China teaching English at Hebei University. He will be writing regular columns for The Advocate during his stay in China. To read all of his Advocate columns, visit blogtheberkshires.com. Readers can also read more about his experiences on his own blog at chrisinchina.wordpress.com.