School’s in full swing and parents are allowed back on campus – that means PTA board meetings are coming in hard and fast as schools amp up for spring events and festivities. Oh yes, the Parent-Teacher Association. You’re either in it because you love it, someone “volunteered” you, or you refuse to go near it with a ten-foot pole, but either way, the PTA will find you… sooner or later.

“Have you read the school email from Harry yet?” Is the way you start your conversations with most other people, who are all parents from the school because that’s 90 percent of your social circle. Who’s Harry, you ask? That brings me to my next point…

You are on a first-name basis with the school staff, including teachers and the principal such as the aforementioned “Harry.”

Whenever you visit the school, which is at least once a week, you park in your favorite spot right by the flowers you suggested the school gardener plant near the gate. Or you walk because you live five minutes down the block.

You have all the school merchandise, and you actually paid for it.

“Veni, vidi, vici!” Well, not that one but you know the school motto (in the original Latin if it is) by heart, and you fully believe in it.

Half of your WeChat Moments are blogs from the school and the other half are photographs of you or your kids at school.

You have the school phone number along with the phone number extensions of key personnel at the school saved in your phone book.

You’re always baking/making/selling something to raise funds.

We jest, PTA board members! We love you for all the dedication and hard work you put into our kids’ schools. If only our kids would actually put that same amount of effort into their school work…

KEEP READING: Tell Me You’re Online Teaching Again, Without Telling Me

Images: Unsplash, Pexels, Giphy

The end of the school year is a time to look back and reflect on all the wonderful things the classroom has brought us during the year. As I pack up artwork, disassemble bulletin boards, and make final remarks on report cards, I softly hum the dulcet tune of “School’s Out,” and am reminded of all the hilarious things my students said and did. Below are some of my favorite stories from fellow teachers and parents. Enjoy!

Emotional Support Animal: One of my students is very sensitive, and has a small stuffed comfort dog she brings to class. His name is Snoopy*, he sits on the corner of her desk, and when she gets upset or nervous she pets or hugs him quietly and it helps her refocus. I was having a bit of a day, and one of my more…precocious students decided to push my buttons. I was barely controlling my temper and it must have shown on my face because the room got very quiet and tense until the little girl asked, “Do you need to hold Snoopy?”
*names have been changed to protect the identity of the students, and the stuffed toy too.

Creative Biology: The assignment was to make a mixed media collage representing your favorite day with your family and explain why in a short presentation. This little boy stood up in front of the class, presented his collage and announced, “This was the day we went to the park and the balloon guy accidentally let go of all the balloons and they all floated up to the sun! It was magic!” It’s such a cute story, but all I can see is sperm fertilizing an egg… What is wrong with me???

Rules are Rules: At our school there is a rule that you need to ask permission before entering a teacher’s office. One of my students came to see me and forgot, so I gently reminded him by prompting, “May I come in?” Instead of repeating after me, he responded, “Sure! Come on in!”

Easy A: His dad drives a Lamborghini, mom drives a Ferrari…and after each test he writes “I’m sorry” at the bottom of the paper and offers me 20 RMB. Then I just laugh.

Future Lawyer: My daughter really, really wanted a puppy. So she took what she learned in school and wrote me a persuasive essay.

Groundhog Day: When my son was six I spent weeks preparing him for school. We bought new clothes and school supplies, and he was excited to meet new friends. I was nervous about separation anxiety but he walked straight into the classroom with no tears. I picked him up and asked him if he had fun and he excitedly told me all about his day.

That night I put him to bed and said, “Sleep well so you can have a good day at school tomorrow.” He looked confused and said, “What…? But I already went today!?”

Life Behind Bars: I was doing an activity with my students and they had to guess things about me. I’m from South Africa, and I asked them to guess what country I came from. Everyone guessed wrong, so I gave them a clue. I said, “…there are lots of animals where I come from,” and then one boy shouted out, “You come from a zoo?!”
I guess I walked right into that one.

What’s your favorite “Kids Say The Darndest Things” moment of the 2020-2021 school year?

Keep Reading: Tell Me You’re a Teacher Without Telling Me You’re a Teacher: Part 2

Photos: Unsplash, pexels and reader submissions

Families are funny things. Sometimes loving, sometimes raging… we spend more time with each other than with anyone else, but we don’t get to choose our family members. (As parents we might make the decision to have children, but we don’t get any say in their personalities.) All families have their own traditions and rituals. And for those who move to the other side of the world, away from extended family and forced closer together, exposed daily to a different language and culture, that private vocabulary can be richer and stranger. These are a few of the words which my family have invented or adopted during our time in China.

Clamoring (n.)

We are indebted for this word to the Citic Hotel Beijing Airport, or more specifically its fabulous swimming pool, where there is a sign solemnly forbidding “body rubbing” and “clamoring”. Fortunately my boys are still too young for body rubbing to be an issue, but clamoring is a daily problem: the pointless, needless shouting, squawking, and shrieking which comes from having more than one child around. And of course, the worst thing about clamoring is that it can lead to shenanigans.

Example: “If you don’t stop that clamoring, there’ll be no ice cream after dinner!”

Obsquacious (adj.)

This word derives from an enthusiastic but ill-aimed attempt to pronounce the word “obsequious”. However, it now refers to any obnoxious behavior caused by the outcome of a game; either crowing about a victory, or sulking about a defeat.

Example: “It’s only ping pong, stop being so obsquacious.”

Stwnco (interjection)

The “w” is pronounced as a sort of “u” sound like in Welsh. This is an acronym which I recommend to all parents with more than one child: Sometimes The Wrong Name Comes Out.

Example:
“Noah, stop doing that.”
“Why are you telling me off I didn’t do anything I wasn’t even in the room that’s so unfair – ”
“Stwnco! Stwnco! … Joseph, stop doing that.”

Not seeing the lunchbox (phrase)

This came from a friend of mine who went to Hollywood to pitch his children’s book as an animated movie, to baffled boardrooms of money men. One said “I’m not seeing the lunchbox”, meaning he couldn’t visualize the merchandise and Happy Meal toys which would make the movie profitable. For us it’s used when someone proposes something and you can’t see what’s in it for you. (See also “I’m good thanks.”

Example:
“This afternoon, shall we go to the Watermelon Museum?”
“I’m not seeing the lunchbox.”

Doof (n., vb.)

A doof is a mistake, or incorrect statement. This comes not from “doofus” but from the noise made on the BBC quiz show Pointless when a contestant gets a wrong answer. Can also be a verb.

Example:
“He said Sydney is the capital of Australia. That’s a doof.”

Seeing a man about a horse (phrase)

We picked this up in Mongolia, where it’s a wonderful euphemism for doing a number one. The equivalent for a number two is “killing a bear.”

Example:
“I’m going to the toilet.”
“Are you seeing a man about a horse, or killing a bear?”

Maozedonging (vb.)

We play a lot of board games, and this word is particularly useful in this context. It refers to those times when you form an alliance of convenience against a mutual enemy, but then let your ally do most of the work while you build up your forces for the moment when you turn on each other.

Example:

“Let’s gang up and beat Dad.”
“Okay, but you’ve got to go for him too. No maozedonging.”

Moochy

This marvellously flexible sound can mean almost anything, based on context and tone of voice. In this it is very much like Chinese.

Example:
“Did you moochy the moochy?”
“No.”
“Moooooochyyyyyy….”

Does your family have your own invented or adopted language? Tell us in the comments below!

Photo: Pixabay

This Friday is Chinese Valentine’s Day, we are told. My first reaction to this was sceptical: another fake corporate greedfest dreamed up by vendors of chocolate and roses, another excuse to pile the guilt on busy and preoccupied partners. (“You mean you haven’t got me a present for Qixi?” “I didn’t even know it existed till I started writing about it for beijingkids.” And so on.)

However it is in origin an ancient festival dating back to the Han dynasty, and the story which lies behind it is one of China’s Four Great Folktales. It has the blend of oddity and charm characteristic of Chinese folklore.

Zhinu, whose name means Weaver Girl, was the seventh daughter of the Goddess, and lived in heaven, where it was her job to weave the clouds. However she found this a boring task, and one day she escaped from heaven and fled to earth.

While she was sitting by a river, she was discovered by a young cowherd, whose name was Niulang (which means cowherd- the Chinese are great believers in nominative determinism.) The two, of course, fell in love. They married and had two children.

Meanwhile heaven was in an uproar as everyone searched for the missing weaver girl. When her mother found her living with a mortal, she was furious, and dragged her back to heaven.

Niulang was naturally devastated at the loss of his beloved wife. Then, one night, his ox began to talk to him, and told him that if he wanted to ascend to heaven, he needed to kill the ox and put on its skin. (What the ox’s motivation was here, is not recorded.)

Niulang took his two children and set off for heaven clad in the magic oxhide. The Goddess saw him coming though, and scratched a river in the sky with her hairpin to keep the lovers apart.

And they can all be seen in the night sky to this day: Zhinu as the star Vega, Niulang and his children as Altair and two smaller stars either side of it. The river in heaven separating them is the Milky Way.

However the story has a happy ending of sorts. Once a year, on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, all the magpies in the world fly up to heaven and form a bridge so that they can meet. There, didn’t see that coming, did you?

The Qixi (Seven Sunset) festival is celebrated not only in China, but also in Japan and Korea. Traditional merrymaking includes girls competing to thread needles in low light (how the long summer evenings must have flown by…)

Now of course, it’s all about roses and chocolates and piling guilt on busy and preoccupied partners. We say, enough of this commercialism, let’s return to the true meaning of the festival. Come on, ladies! Needles out…

Photo: Shizhao, via Wikimedia Commons

A crap attempt at an earthquake hit Beijing last night, leaving social media mildly excited for a couple of hours.

The tremor, estimated at Force “Blah” on the “Meh” scale, caused the ground to quiver a bit. People in the affected area were said to be “vaguely perturbed.” Many took to WeChat to ask whether anyone else had felt anything, and describe what they had felt, and where they were at the time, and to share misinformation. No casualties or damage of any kind has been reported, though someone probably dropped something, due to be being startled.

In one particularly shocking episode, a Beijing journalist was accused by his wife of having one glass of wine too many over dinner, when he asked whether anyone else felt the floor shaking. The reporter is said to be “completely vindicated”, and revealed to be “planning on milking it for all it’s worth.”

According to Wikipedia, earthquakes are so called because the “earth” “quakes”.

Photo:Yamaguchi先生 , Wikimedia Commons

With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore. And my colleagues. And Santa. And, erm, everybody.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Beijing
Nothing was different, not one little thing.
The cars sat in traffic, all tooting their hooters,
And alarms beeped out from the rows of parked scooters.
The smog it hung heavy, the AQI soared,
And in our apartment the kids were all bored.
But they hung up their stockings by the air con flue
In the hope that Saint Nick would visit their xiaoqu.
We finally got them all snug in their beds,
With visions of iPads filling their heads,
And at last the wife and I sat down to watch
A movie from Netflix (with a large glass of scotch),
When outside the window there came such a clatter
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
And out on the ring road, though stuck in first gear,
Was a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer!
But Saint Nick was stressed, yes, Santa was pouting
And even from here I could hear he was shouting:
“No Dasher, watch out, there’s a bus cutting in!
Oh Dancer, be careful, just look what you trod in!
That woman just stepped in the road right in front of us!
That bike with no lights is headed straight for us!”
I knew that if Santa Claus couldn’t move faster
His whole Christmas schedule would come to disaster
So I fired up my laptop and called on, of course,
Beijing’s essential international family resource.
There was only one hope of preventing this fuss:
It was down to the beijingkids team to save Christmas.
And out from his grotto, before things could fester
Came that funny old man with a beard, called Mike Wester.
He sized up the problem, saw it was worrying,
Called on his minions, and brought them all scurrying:
“Now, Vanessa! now, Nimo! now, Pauline and Annie!
On, Aliyah! on Jasmin! on, Ruth, Kyle and Andy!”
The beijingkids elves were not fazed by pollution;
Vanessa told Santa she knew the solution.
“From this gridlocked highway we’ll help get your sleigh off
(‘Cause even though it’s Christmas, we don’t need a day off)
But there’s only one way to bring gifts in this city-
What we need here is a red-nosed kuaidi.”
So the kuaidi came rattling along on his trike
And delivered the presents, as quick as you like.
And I thanked beijingkids, always meeting our needs,
And away they all flew like cottonwood seeds.
But I heard them exclaim, ere they drifted from sight,
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!”

Hope you also enjoy our specially adapted Twelve Days of Christmas!

On the first day of Christmas, my kuaidi brought to me
A waimai delivery!

On the second day of Christmas my kuaidi brought to me
Two hongbaos
And a waimai delivery.

On the third day of Christmas my kuaidi brought to me
Three Laser Eggs
Two hongbaos
And a waimai delivery.

…

On the twelfth day of Christmas my kuaidi brought to me…
[deep breath…] Twelve scooters scooting
Eleven taxis hooting
Ten Mobikes weaving
Nine dama dancing
Eight bao’an snoozing
Seven markets closing
Six toddlers peeing
FIVE JIAN BINGS!
Four static shocks
Three Laser Eggs
Two hongbaos
And a waimai delivery!

Photo: Michael Coghlan, via Flickr

So guys, you know how it is. It’s the weekend, and of course you want to spend your hard-earned leisure time drinking single malt and driving sports cars around the golf course. But instead, your wife drags you down to the mall to go shopping. Because after all, your wife is a vacuous fembot only interested in shoes and handbags, with whom you have nothing in common. And she’s too high maintenance to just go and take a taxi, or God forbid, drive to the mall herself. Am I right, fellas?

So instead of playing poker while smoking cigars and doing carpentry, you’re left trailing round some space age megamall pretending to have an opinion about the things your wife cares about. There’s nothing worse, yeah?

Fortunately, a new mall in Shanghai has come up with the answer: a Husband Nursery.

A. Husband. Nursery.

Take a moment to revel in the wondrousness of that idea. Because when we men aren’t ruling the world with our ability to grow facial hair and park cars, we’re just big babies who love nothing to be better than to be mothered by nurses, especially if they’re well-endowed (with nursing qualifications I mean – we have eyes only for you, girls!)

Early reports suggest that the Husband Nursery doesn’t have actual nurses. However it has something even better. Brace yourselves, chaps, because it here it comes:

Magazines. It has magazines.

You know how the best part of going to the dentist is sitting in the waiting room, leafing through year-old magazines which you wouldn’t have bothered to pick up when they were new? Sometimes I book myself in for unnecessary root canal treatment just for the pleasure of perusing Victorian Doll Collector, or the Combine Harvester Quarterly, and I’m sure I’m not alone there. But wait, there’s more.

It has a TV.

What an age we live in, eh? Now, I’m sure you can see a potential problem. When one dude wants to watch World Series of Korfball, and another one wants to watch Extreme Carp Fishing, things could get ugly. Shirts could be removed, and the whole thing end up a sweaty, grunting grapple on the carpet.

Fortunately, the geniuses behind the Husband Nursery have foreseen and averted this problem. The TV will show nothing but a two minute loop of advertising for products sold in the mall. Anyone who’s been in an elevator with a screen will testify just how soothing this can be.

If this innovation makes it easier for us to spend all our leisure time in malls – as it surely must, considering that in the past, we’ve only had bars, coffee shops and restaurants in which to wait for our loved ones – then that’s all to the good. For too long we’ve had to put up with crooked old streets, quirky little shops, traditional street food and unique handcrafted products. The Husband Nursery is another step into a glorious future of brightly-lit, climate controlled malls which will feature the same shops and brands wherever we are on the planet. I, for one, can’t wait.

Photo: womenofchina.cn

(It was reported this week that ambitious Chinese parents are sending their children on leadership workshops and CEO training courses aimed at kids as young as 6 months. “I doubt the course can really teach a child to become a future leader because they are too young,” commented one parent rather forlornly after paying RMB 12,000. “What can you expect from a three-year-old? My daughter can’t even put her own shoes on.” Some cynics have even dared to suggest that the courses are no more than over-priced daycare… We sent our undercover reporter to find out what was really going on.)

Now then children, today we’re all going to be world leaders and captains of industry. So let’s put our shoulders back, our noses in the air, and head for the top!

Hillary and Donald, if you two can’t play nicely, you’ll have to go and sit on the naughty step. Yes, Hillary, I heard what he called you. But that doesn’t make it right for you to – Hillary! Nice girls don’t use words like that.

This is Theresa, boys and girls. She’s new, so let’s all make her feel welcome. Theresa, I really don’t think it’s a good idea on your first day to start by telling everybody you don’t want to play with them. Look, you’ve upset Angela now. And believe me, you don’t want to mess with Angela.

Donald, don’t do that.

Let’s have a look at your drawings. Oh, Steve, what a lovely apple! Bill, stop copying Steve. Yes, you are. You can call it a window if you want, but it looks like an apple to me. What are you drawing, Ren? You’re drawing an apple too? I see… And Lei? Another – Wait a minute. Has anybody drawn anything that isn’t an apple? Everyone’s just copying Steve. Don’t you have any ideas of your own?

Hillary, what’s that on that piece of paper? Yes, the one behind your back. Bring it here now. No Julian, don’t snatch. Hillary’s going to do the right thing and give it to me herself, aren’t you, Hillary?

Oh dear. Have you swallowed it? Well, it’ll serve you right if it comes back up later.

Richard, put that down. Nobody’s going to take you seriously if you keep playing with balloons. What, you want to be a spaceman now? I’m not sure that’s really any better. Oh well, as long it keeps you away from the train set…

Donald, I asked you not to do that. I don’t care how big your hands are.

What have you got there, Jack? A designer handbag? How lovely. But it isn’t really, is it? You’ve just written “Louis Vuitton” on your lunchbox with a felt-tip pen.

No, Justin, put the playmobil away. Why? Because if you want to join the global elite, you’re going to have to learn not to concern yourself with the little people.

What’s that, Donald? You don’t want to be a world leader after all? You were just saying it to get attention? I’m afraid it’s cost a lot of money to get you here, so you’ll just have to try your very best. Anyway, I don’t think you have much to worry about…

(With apologies to Joyce Grenfell)

Photo: Courtany via Pixabay

Parents, send your children out of the room. On no account let them read this post. I’m about to reveal something shocking.

Are they all gone? OK, here goes….

Scientists in Australia have discovered a positive correlation between playing online video games and higher exam scores in math, science and reading.

You read that right. According to the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology, tests on over 12,000 Australian teenagers found that those who regularly played online games scored 15 points above average in maths and reading tests and 17 points above average in science.

Now, I don’t know what your family life is like, but mine is a daily battle over how much screen time the kids get. If my boys find out that playing games helps them at school, that battle may be lost forever. And this study is not an outlier; research by Columbia University linked video game playing in 6-11 year olds with “a greatly increased chance of high intellectual functioning and overall school competence.”

I have to admit that the reason we have a games console is that I’m rather partial to a spot of button-bashing myself. In fact I believe games to be emerging as the dominant narrative art form of the 21^st century. If video gaming still makes you think of Space Invaders and Pacman, you’re in for a shock. The best current video games have greater depth and subtlety, and better characterization, than the average Hollywood blockbuster. Sometimes I watch my kids playing, and marvel at the degree of cooperation and creativity that’s going on, whether they’re building castles in Minecraft or designing levels for Little Big Planet.

But correlation is not causation. Perhaps all the studies show is that the more intellectual children are spending time online, while the sporty kids are out playing ball. And academic success is not the only important thing in life. I want my boys to be fit and healthy, to be able to kick and throw and catch, to roam and explore within safe boundaries.

And not all online activity is good news. Heavy users of social media score lower on average, and the more frequent the use the greater the impact on academic achievement. They also have a shorter attention span. Shocking, isn’t it? Parents must be warned. I’d better go right now and post about it on Facebook and WeChat…

Photo: Chris Parfitt via Flickr