A kid asks me “Sensei what’s this” and then just. pokes me in the boob.
Ask a kid to draw his favourite fruit. He draws a dinosaur.
Learning to say “how old are you” / “I’m X years old”. One kid comments (in Japanese) “my mum is 1 year old”.
Reading a dictation about children’s day. The kids are delighted when I repeatedly fail to pronounce koinobori and take it upon themselves to teach me
Get mobbed by five-year-olds screaming “ANKOORU! ANKOORU!” until I fall over (I later learn this means “encore” and they basically wanted to play the game again)
Teaching a particularly rowdy class and it is hard. fucking. work. At the end, one kid turns to me and says “sensei, otsukaresama deshita” (which translates to something like “thank you for your hard work”)
Proudly show the kids my kanji practice. They gasp in horror. “Sensei! they’re terrible!” Says one.
“Okay everyone, touch something BLACK!” I shout. One five-year-old touches my black jeans in the form of slapping my ass.
One kid can’t write his name. I hold his crayon with him and we write it together. He spends the rest of the lesson not doing the colouring or the fun workbook activity, but just tracing his fingers over the letters and saying his name slowly and grinning.
It’s parent observation week. All the kids have a parent in the room and understandably choose to sit with Mum/Dad. Apart from one kid, who chooses my lap over Dad’s, even though every single week he cries and wants his Pappa for the first 10 minutes of class.
Kids are talking about Pokemon. I chime in. They’re noticeably shocked that I understand. I tell them I like Charizard. “Eeh Charizard’s weak! I like Pikachu!” One kid says. Charizard is objectively stronger than Pikachu on many levels, but I don't argue.
At the start of the class kids are doing a phonics activity. They have to choose whether word starts with C or G. One of the words is “gum”. despite the word being more or less the same in Japanese, an alarming number of kids write “cum”.
Kids are counting points at the end of class. Because they’re 11-year-old boys, they find it hilarious when I get to the number six. “Sex. Sex. Sensei, sex,” they say repeatedly.
I ask the kids how old they think I am. "72" says one of them. I’m in my early thirties.
I help one new kid write their name. Suddenly, all the kids who’ve been coming for months and can definitely write their name promptly forget and I have to help all 11 of them.