英語で笑う！ 教室爆笑スキット / Laughing in English! Explosive Laughter Skits for the Classroom / Anti-jokes

I originally wrote this on Facebook but am posting it here for your enjoyment.

I'm at school trying to avoid writing essays and have found this book of English language skits for Japanese elementary and junior high school students. I have a suspicion that these were written by non-native English speakers. Or the Excite.co.jp Japanese translator.

I hope you like anti-jokes.

'I Like What I Like!'

Teacher: Do you like steak, Toshio?

Toshio: No, I don't. I don't like steak.

Teacher: Why?

Toshio: Because it isn't good for our health.

Teacher: I see. Then how about fruit?

Toshio: I love all of the fruit. Especially I like melons, apples and oranges. Fruit is good for our health.

Teacher: How about vegetables?

Toshio: I don't like vegetables.

Teacher: But vegetables are also very good for our health. Why don't you like vegetables? Do you have a special reason?

Toshio: No. I have no speacial [sic] reasons. I just like what I like.

Teacher: Mmmmm...

...

'In the Classroom'

Nicchoku: Stand up!

Teacher: Good morning, class.

Class: Good morning.

Nicchoku: Sit down!

Teacher: Now I'm going to take attendance. Andou?

Andou: Yes, sir.

Teacher: Inoue?

Inoue: I'm present.

Teacher: Okada?

Okada: Here, sir.

Teacher: Katou?...Katou? Is he absent?

Okada: Yes, he is absent.

Teacher: OK...next. Suzuki?...Suzuki? Is she absent, too?

Inoue: No, she isn't...she is sleeping.

Teacher: Oh, no!

...

'I Cleaned!'

Teacher: Where is Hiroshi?

Shizuko: I don't know. He often escapes.

- Hiroshi enters -

Teacher: Where were you?

Hiroshi: In the toilet.

Teacher: Why? Today's cleaning is your turn.

Hiroshi: I know.

Teacher: You know? So why didn't you clean?

Hiroshi: I did, sir/madam. I cleaned.

Teacher: But you were in the toilet.

Hiroshi: Yes. I was in the toilet. But I cleaned.

Teacher: You cleaned? What did you clean?

Hiroshi: I often say bad words. So I washed my mouth.

Teacher: Mmmmm...

...

I am continuing my foray into the mind of Japan translated to English translated to child translated to Japanese translated to English.

'I Have a Pet!'

Teacher: Do you have any pets, Takeshi?

Takeshi: Yes, I do.

Teacher: What do you have?

Takeshi: I have a dog. It is white. It is very big. And it is very smart.

Teacher: How about you, Yoko?

Yoko: I have a cat. It is black. It is small. It is very cute.

Teacher: How about you, Yusuke?

Yusuke: My pet is black. And it is very small.

Teacher: Is your pet a cat, too?

Yusuke: No. My pet is not smart or cute. But I don't have to give food to my pet every day.

Teacher: What is your pet?

Yusuke: It's a cockroach!

Teacher: You are kidding, aren't you?

Yusuke: No kidding!

...

'In the Homeroom Meeting'

Teacher: By the way, Hiroshi, can I ask you some questions?

Hiroshi: Sure.

Teacher: Do you eat breakfast every day?

Hiroshi: Yes, I do.

Teacher: That's good. Does your mother cook breakfast?

Hiroshi: No, she doesn't.

Teacher: Do you cook?

Hiroshi: No, I don't.

Teacher: No? Then who cooks?

Hiroshi: My father.

Teacher: Oh, I see. Your father is a good husband. How about dinner?

Hiroshi: My father cooks.

Teacher: How about cleaning the house?

Hiroshi: My father does.

Teacher: Then, what does your mother do at home?

Hiroshi: Nothing.

Teacher: Nothing?

Hiroshi: But she works outside to make money!

Teacher: Oh, I see!

-_-

'I Got Dad's Punch!'

Teacher: A happy new year, class!

Class: A happy new year, sir/madam.

Teacher: Did you help your family during winter holidays? And did you get anything good as Christmas presents or New Year's presents?

Koiko: I helped my mother on New Year's eve. So I got nice gloves.

Teacher: Sounds great! How about you, Hideki?

Hideki: I cleaned my room every day. So I got a new family computer game.

Teacher: That's good. How about you, Tetsuko?

Tetsuko: I studied hard. So I got a new mechanical pencil from my grandmother.

Teacher: You are lucky. And Takuro?

Takuro: I didn't help my family. I did not clean my room. I did not study, either. I played every day. At last I got Dad's punch!

Teacher: Oh, poor boy!

Oh, poor boy! ;_;

You really have to love how the punchline is usually in the title.

'I Can't Read!'

Akiko: What's wrong, Takeshi?

Takeshi: Nothing.

Akiko: Who wrote the letter?

Takeshi: My girlfriend wrote.

Akiko: You look angry. Why are you angry?

Takeshi: No, I'm not angry.

Akiko: The letter has a bad news [sic]?

Takeshi: No.

Akiko: Please be honest. We are friends. I can help you. I can do anything for you.

Takeshi: Really? Can you help me?

Akiko: Sure!

Takeshi: You are very kind! In fact, I...

Akiko: Did you quarrel with your girlfriend?

Takeshi: No, no. I just can't read several kanji of this letter!

Akiko: Oh, no!

Takeshi's antics don't stop there.

'In the Math Class'

Takeshi: Ken! Ken! Will you give me some paper?

Ken: Sure. Here you are.

Takeshi: May I borrow a pencil?

Ken: OK. Here it is.

Takeshi: Can I borrow your eraser?

Ken: Yeah. Here.

Takeshi: Hmmm...

Ken: What's the matter?

Takeshi: This is very difficult.

Ken: No. It's easy.

Takeshi: Really? You must have good brains. Can I borrow your brain?

Ken: Oh, no! You can't!

BRRRRRRAAINS

The next one is about cultural differences.

'I Did So-so'

Mary: How did you do on the math test?

Junko: I did so-so. How about you?

Mary: I did very well. Look at this. Can I see yours?

Junko: Well...

Mary: Hey. Come on. Wow! Yours is better than mine. You're a liar!

Junko: No, I'm not. That's the way we are.

Mary: Oh, no!

...

OK, I was paging through the book and found this one that is...well, I'll put it here.

'That's Cereal!'

Mom: Good morning, Hiromi. What do you want to eat for breakfast?

Hiromi: Anything.

Mom: No. Don't say 'anything.' You should have an opinion. How about bread and milk? This morning we have good roll [sic].

Hiromi: Let's see...Silica gel is better.

Mom: What? Silica gel? Are you serious?

Hiromi: This is my choice. Don't complain.

Mom: Stupid! If you eat it, you'll die.

Hiromi: No kidding! Bring it soon. Over there! Over there!

Mom: Oh! That's cereal!

...

Peace.

Cracking the whip

Cell phones aren't really a problem at most of my schools. The students aren't supposed to have them, and most abide. But, as you might expect, there is a direct relationship between the urbanity of a school's location and the visible prevalence of cell phone possession among students. I'm at my 'city school' this week. This isn't meant to imply that I'm teaching the worldly, urban street youth of Japan; no, these kids are, by any objective measure, parochial at their foundation. But they do like their cell phones.

The other ALT who works at this school (we sort of irregularly alternate weeks) has repeatedly found himself in situations where students openly (flauntingly?) operate their keitais during or between classes. Each teacher has her own approach (or lack of an approach) to discipline, and the students do take advantage of gaps in the armor. My friend has sufficient command of Japanese to address their behavior, and he does, but the situation brings up some issues regarding the role of ALTs in classroom discipline. What is the role of the ALT?

The responsibilities of an ALT are dictated by his individual situation. In junior high school, I work alongside other teachers. I view myself as support for the Japanese teacher of English, and that informs my level of involvement in classroom discipline. During my first year, I'd try to match the tone of the JTE. This meant that in less disciplined classes, I wouldn't try to single-handedly bring the class in line; I just accepted that that was the way the class was.

Chalk one up for cultural sensitivity. Hah. I'm too old for that now. This contract cycle, the Age of Intolerance resumes.

Recently I've been taking a more active, assertive role because I feel more knowledgeable and confident about Japanese and the behavior of my students. When I judge that the JTE doesn't have sufficient control of her class, I move about the room and attend to the problematic students while the JTE continues to teach.

ALTs in elementary schools often have to shoulder more of the classroom discipline burden as they don't work with JTEs as junior and senior high school ALTs do. A teacher who participates in the ALT's lesson can help to a certain extent, but one doesn't always have those teachers (some totally check out when the ALT takes over the class-- cookies and coffee in the break room). ALTs at the elementary level have to use more Japanese and be more assertive with discipline in order to be effective. Not to make them sound balanced or equivalent, but I actually have a hard time comparing JHS discipline with elementary discipline-- with the former, students are more recalcitrant but the JTE can help; with the latter, it's your own show but the students go nuts for inflatable hammers. Wait-- so do my JHS students...shit.

I think I've learned a few things while teaching in both situations. My Japanese isn't very imposing, and neither is my stature, so I rarely use the intimidation route to effect behavioral change. I find that just making the students uncomfortable with a conversation works best. I do this by merely directing my attention to that student (only that student). Most students don't want to be singled out against their will. The best thing about this approach is that it doesn't have to be negative at all; it's exactly not a confrontation. You can really just talk to the student about any dumb thing that comes to your mind; instead of saying, "Quit screwing around," I say, "Where's your notebook?" or things like that. Some kind of simple, simple English sentence works; a barrage of the Queen's doesn't. I don't speak Japanese at all in junior high school classes as a rule, and this approach to discipline allows me to be consistent. Anyway, at best, the student changes his behavior so he doesn't have to speak English with the ALT; at worst, he gets some English conversation practice in.

Back to the cell phones. Discussing the problem, my friend and I agreed that the teachers should be stricter with the students to show that they are serious about following the rules, but we also acknowledged that the teachers may simply be picking their battles. Still, we wondered about the role of the ALT here. Can you overlook a blatant infraction? In new ALT training, it was pounded into our heads that ALTs are supposed to be super-genki, creative, and fun. Finding students operating their cell phones put my friend in a tough position vis-a-vis the whole 'fun, friendly ALT' thing: he wondered whether he should tell the JTE, making her aware of the situation but likely alienating the students (who would find out that the ALT told her), or take it upon himself to square away the student. He chose the latter, and I think it was the right thing to do because it was the potentially constructive route. It gave the offending student an opportunity to change his behavior. Now, I say 'potentially constructive' because the students were back at it again the next time my friend visited the school, but you know...

Anyway, each ALT must communicate with her JTE in order to establish how to handle classroom discipline, and she must find out for herself what sort of approach will work best with her students. For example, my friend who teaches primary school in Cameroon says that students there are beaten daily.

Stuff

Howdy,

I've been here in Miyako for over a year now and the sheer amount of shit my students give each other still staggers me. Today one student approached the blackboard to throw a suction-cup ball at an English vocabulary word (it's part of a game) and the rest of the students in this 17-person class started screaming about how long this kid's legs are (he's comparatively tall).
Two things: (1) That this dude is tall is not new to the class. The composition of this group hasn't significantly changed in over 8 years of schooling. (2) The comments were actually neutral-sounding, but that's the way Japanese people tend to take the piss out of anyone who momentarily stands out. Again, it never fails to fascinate me.

In other news:

I typed up a review of Infinity Ward/Activision's November release, Modern Warfare 2, but it's on my other computer and I haven't posted it yet. In that review I don't go on about how awesome or crappy the game is-- instead I talk about a few of the changes IW made to the MW formula that make the new one more 'casual gamer'-oriented than the last. I'll finalize it and put it up this afternoon when I get back to the big machine.

However, I usually bring a laptop with me to schools (this is where I'm writing from right now). It's a Gateway MTxxxx purchased straight off the shelves of Office Depot in 2007 and is currently running Ubuntu Linux. I've been pretty happy with it as far as word processing and web browsing go. Video isn't really a problem, either, but it won't push anything that involves OpenGL or lightly intensive 3D graphics. Originally the machine had Vista, and it would run Aero without a hitch, but I've since moved Vista to the homebuilt machine and replaced it here with Ubuntu. Again, I use this only for wapuro and browsing, so Ubuntu is ideal. It boots up quickly, drivers haven't been a problem, and-- contrary to the daunting image of Linux-- I haven't had to use the command line terminal once since installation. I also like how each release is aesthetically better than the last. I think it's a pretty good deal.

A Whale-like Voice

So, they (members of the local board of education, my employer) thought it would be super kokusaiteki, or an otherwise good idea, to have me play banjo (very exotic) during the intermission at this term's junior high school English storytelling contest. 

Here's the thing: they wanted a complete show featuring me, a set of songs, and singing.  

I'm a terrible singer.  My Most Excellent Friend Eli describes my voice as 'cetaceous.'  Yes, I pulled a fast one on someone in the JET Programme selection process: I don't have "excellent intonation, rhythm, pronunciation, and volume", or whatever is called for.  I sound like a whale, and though whales sing in their way, it is a style that is fairly inaccessible.  Like enka.*

Perhaps it is best described as not being entirely unlike the sound of a shitty practice amp whose bass knob is cranked up as the remaining tonal knobs are turned extremely off.  That is, it can sound loud and deep, yet it is  somehow inherently muffled.  It's been a blessing and a curse since my youth.  No, I take that back-- it's given me an unbelievable amount of shit.  Mostly in the form of my dad yelling at me for mumbling all the time.  And I can't sing.

So,

Clearly they had no idea what they were getting into.  Sure, sure, I can play a few crappy songs on my crappy banjo with my crappy technique, but asking this guy to sing is agressively reckless.  One could really sour the mood of the event by doing this sort of thing.  And it's a day for the children, you know.

Still I reluctantly accepted the task because, well, I had already done this sort of thing for one of my schools.  They had a schoolwide musical presentation in which I was called up to play "Country Roads."

Little did you know, all Japanese people are familiar with "Country Roads"; that is, KANTORII ROUDO(ZU).  It was a safe choice.

Anyway, I did it.  It was fine because the audience simply consisted of my students (who already know how cool I fail to be) and grandparents of said students.  I could have gone on stage and hula-hooped for 3 minutes and been met with applause.  It wasn't fine because someone surreptitiously shot a video and committed it to Digital Versatile Disc (DVD).  Not that anyone has or will ever watch it-- it's probably sitting in a cabinet at the school.  I'm still uneasy.

The board of education was aware of this whole affair.  I decided it would be socially costly, if not rude, to decline their request for me to play, regardless of how much of an ass I anticipated making of myself.

With the actual contest weeks away, I had ample time to practice up and prepare a set list.  So I waited until the day before the show to do all of that.

I decided to break out the guitar for one of the songs, Old Crow Medicine Show's "Big Time in the Jungle."  No demanding singing there, and I like the song.  On the banjo front, I readied "Rocky Top" (feebly reppin' for TN) and KANTORII ROUDO (why waste time learning a new song?). 

Despite the changes and my newfound, cleaving decisiveness about what to play, I became extremely nervous as the performance approached.  Really nervous.  I made it a point to express my unease to every person I encountered regardless of whether the conversational context suited it.  I felt like hadn't prepared well enough.  Which I hadn't.

When I finished teaching that day, I decided to do what little practice I could manage.  Half-panicking, I went outside and proceeded to go through the material.

It didn't take long for students to start gathering around me to listen.  They emerged gradually, two or so at a time.  This was fantastic because it helped me get used to the idea of performing in front of lots of people.  Eventually the resident third year (our 9th grade) rockabilly guitar dude came up.  I gave him the guitar and asked him whether he knew KANTORII ROUDO.

As if there were any question about the matter. 

We jammed on that shit for 10 minutes.  Everyone joined in and sang Engrish on the chorus, and I held the verses together while turning out some decent banjo rolls.

Rocking out with the students really turned my world around.  I felt all genki and like myself again.  This isn't meant to imply that I thought I could play the songs better-- it was just that I cared less about whether I sounded good and cared more about rocking.  So, lots of positive energy was received at that moment, and it got me psyched up for the performance.  As for the performance itself, I don't know how good it sounded, but at least I didn't forget any lyrics.  One of my teachers stepped up and played guitar on KANTORII ROUDO (because everyone knows...) as I did my thing.  I even did an extra song when the intermission ended up running longer than expected.  Anyway, I'm not sure that I could have done it without kicking it with the students first.  

Thanks.

* ZING, JAPAN!  Or not.

A principal gets the students jazzed up for an ekiden.

Non-sequiturs and 28 JAN 2009

The other day we were visited by a pair of pianists from Okinawa.  Actually, they are sisters and are originally from Miyako, and while back on the island they decided to drop in at a few schools and play some piano for the students. 

Anyway, after several songs they called up volunteers one at a time to play alongside them at the piano.  The collective mind of the auditorium's occupants (except that of myself-- the slot in my brain for the Nippon Mental Net Transponder is greedily occupied by an All-American Rugged Individuality Unit) pushed a certain sannensei to the front as the first victim.  He played a single repeating, droning note for a bit as one of the professional pianists played a complex pattern.  He soon returned to his seat and the show went on.

After the recital, I asked the student (in Japanese) what he thought about the experience.  He turned and said "Florida, yes, and California."

Sorry.  What?

I stumbled away in hopeless confusion.  

Actually, I'm really not confused about this.  Many students don't actually listen to what I am asking (whether it is Japanese or English) and simply respond with whatever English words pop into their heads at the moment.  Don't get me wrong-- they have absolutely zero regard for meaning, so whatever shit they come up with usually makes me laugh.  But it's kind of frustrating too.  So, as for me, hopeless, yes, but not confused.  It's another reason to never put any effort into connecting with the kids at this school.  

But I have to.

-=-=-=-=- For those who are interested, asking 'Was it fun?' (TANOSHIKATTA? 楽しかった？) in Japanese sounds nothing like any English phrase I am aware of, much less any phrase referencing coastal states.

Rowdy English Gaming

I'm not talking about football/soccer.  Nay, I'd like to share my experience with a certain clever ESL game called 'Eigomon.'  Here is the source.

It is a pretty great game, I have to say.  It is great for teaching comparatives and superlatives to students of, in my opinion, any age.  You can read the description on the MES English website for more detailed information.  I'm not here to explain the game--I'm going to talk about how this game sets a particular group of sullen eighth graders on fire.

I lie; these kids aren't properly described as sullen.  They've just had it with school.  That's all. We all know (or have been) the type.  However, given that getting kids jazzed up for learning English is one of the few specifics in the JET ALT job description, these students are a particular challenge for the ALT who is determined to fulfull the role.  They are the sort of students who just make you want to give up and do worksheets for the rest of the year.  However, I resist that for three reasons:

(1) There are a few students stuck in the class who are highly motivated, talented, and attentive.  They deserve a great classroom experience even though they will do whatever dumb work that is assigned to them.

(2) I hate worksheets and have sworn to never make them unless instructed to do so by the JTE, in which case I frown a lot and slouch unprofessionally at my desk.  I like talking/listening activities because I figure they can do reading and writing without a native English speaker.

(3) The 'bad kids' are usually barrels of gunpowder.  If you find something that catches their attention, you've got a better party on your hands than you could ever have with the attentive students.  How could one pass this up?

So, on to the beginning of this week's tale:

ALT stands for Assistant Language Teacher.  Typically, you play a support role for the JTE (Japanese Teacher of English) by coming up with games and activities, speaking like an instructional recording, and being unqualified yet authoritative about matters of English.  Usually you adhere to the plan established by the JTE and fill in where you are asked to.  However, every once in a while I am asked to run classes alone.  The first time I did this was with the particular class of students I am talking about today.  It was some time ago.

In short, that class didn't go so well.  The students weren't out of control, but many of them simply didn't even look at the worksheet that the teacher had instructed me to give them.  Instead they just talked the whole time.  Then, when I collected the worksheets at the end of class, many of the moderately good students (who would normally have done the worksheet in the presence of the JTE) started scrambling to finish what they could before I took up the papers.  The tough guys/comedians in their corner still didn't move much-- no loss there, really.  Anyway, the class wasn't horrific, but it did seem like a waste of time for everyone.

This week, I once again had to teach that class (and several others) solo.  I was determined (well, as determined as I get...) to do things differently-- that is, not use a worksheet-- and make that particular class a success.  Fortunately, when I arrived at the school on the first day of the week, I found that the JTE was out and had left me NO PLAN-- no worksheet, no hindrance, no specific goals.  Sweet.  I clicked around on the internet and discovered Eigomon, prepared the cards, and conceived a game.  Immaculately.

To be continued...

It's simple really...

We were about to jump in the water the other day when an ancient man (from Miyako) approached us to see what sort of things we were up to.

He seated himself where the hatch opens at the back of my friend's car and began talking unintelligibly, though at length, about generalities. I mentioned that I like Miyako and enjoy working as an English teacher, and I joked that the students are frightening. He recommended that I strike the students when they are insolent.

I'm glad I don't deal with discipline in the classroom.

A Fact to Share: Kids are Funny

Usually when we utter the phrase 'oh my God,' we are as conscious of the literal meanings of those individual words as we are conscious of the feeling we intend to convey by using the expression.  One properly and naturally emphasizes the 'God' part, i.e., "oh my GOD."  

My students, semantically carefree as they are with English, emphasize equally each word in the phrase to comic effect.  Actually, I lie.  They noticeably emphasize the 'OH' part.

OH my God.

OOHHHHH my God.

This is hilarious to me. 

It leaps from their conversations without warning, much like when you are watching Univision and the round man from Sabado Gigante crisply utters 'Charmin Ultra' or 'Quaker Oats' amidst a hypersonic barrage of television Spanish.  In flawless English no less.  It grabs your attention.

So, if I am saying that the students are unaware of the actual meaning of what they are saying, then what could it be that they think they are expressing?  Perhaps it is some form of distress.  However, it can't be anything serious.  Such matters are reserved for Japanese.  Instead 'OH my God' is heard during more lighthearted times, such as during my icebreaking games.  

We are passing a ball around, saying each others' names as we throw it.  The whole thing is being timed, so we are trying to finish the circuit as quickly as possible.  One student beams the ball at another: the receiver makes a valiant effort to catch it, leaping off a chair.  Alas, it is to no avail.

A voice somewhere says "Oh my God."

The students are giving self-introductions.  I am nervous as they are because I don't want to make the students nervous.  Japanese students operate in the following fashion, which I will illustrate by example.  If one of the first students says "My name is Ryuhei.  I like basketball.  I play piano.  Nice to meet you," you will find that nearly 45% of your class reveals that they too like basketball and play piano.  However, a student occasionally forgets the self-intro format and accidentally begins with 'Nice to meet you.'

OH my God.

Shortly before class begins, I find my students playing a sort of makeshift stickball game in the classroom.  A student strikes out.  A student hits the Wiffle ball out of the room.  I act as umpire and make some questionable calls.

OH my God.

Next time I will explain the intricacies of the term very woman.