Of students

I.

In the ongoing erosion of any credibility I may still have as a teacher, the class that got to play Pictionary on Wednesday did one better and got to do absolutely nothing during today's lesson.

Admittedly, it's a little hard to do anything when only one-third of the class shows up in the first place.

This is the class that was a little obsessed last week with trying to find out what secondary school I'm from. I wouldn't tell them, of course. Previous students managed to unearth the highlights of my secondary school career and find my website (including wedding pictures!) in those days before I kept a real blog, without any help from me. We'll see if the current crop can do just as well.

I will, as always, maintain my policy of neither confirming nor denying any details of my life that aren't explicitly described on my blog.

II.

"Are you Singaporean?"

What a question to get in the middle of class. I was so stunned that I immediately wondered out loud, "Do I sound that awful, like I'm not?"

Okay, so I'd just been asking if the students watch the annual National Day Parade and how it's really fun to mock watch, especially if some poor military sap executes the wrong 21-gun salute (if you believe my guy friends, it happened at one parade circa the turn of this century). And I constantly mock my country and its people, because that's what you do when you love someone, you give them a hard time (it goes all the way back to when a boy punches or picks on you in school and that's how you know he likes you).

But do I actually sound like I'm not Singaporean?

Maybe they get confused because I also give the government a hard time in my classes, and I certainly don't love the government.

Clearly, I need to use more Singlish during lessons, no matter what the Speak Good English Movement says, and also tone down my sense of irony. Then they'll believe I'm local.