Angel and Irene

Every week, I teach 550 students in 18 classes, each of whom I see only once. As you may imagine, it's hard, if not impossible, to remember who everyone is. (I have a newfound respect for Mrs. May, who knew every student in my similarly-sized high school by name and face.)

But in every class, a few students inevitably end up standing out to me. Usually, these are the overachievers, the students who likely spend every non-school moment in 補習班(buxiban), a fact which is easily discernible in their perfect English and enthusiastic volunteering. It makes sense that this is often what catches my attention most. Often, but not always.

Sometimes, it's because of behavioral issues. Sometimes, it's because of their appearance. Sometimes, it's because their English level is significantly below their peers'. And sometimes, it's because they're too incredibly sweet to be overlooked.

This is where Angel comes in. Angel actually fits in several of the categories I listed above--her English level is really low, and she's larger than the majority of her classmates--but that's not why I remember her. I remember her because she is one of the sweetest human beings in the world, and she could not be more aptly named.

Walking down the halls every day, I hear a chorus of "Laoshi hao" and "Teacher Bekah!" from whomever happens to be passing me; failing this, I still get a few amazed stares, even after teaching here for three months. Then there's Angel.

Every day at Hanmin, regardless of whether I'm actually teaching her class that day, I can count on a hello from Angel. "TEACHER, TEACHER!" She'll hail me from across the building, if she needs to, and she won't give up until I turn and wave. Then a grin will spread across her entire face and she'll wave back and scamper away.

If she catches me when not in transit--ie, at my desk in the subject teachers' office or just before or after class--she'll strike up a conversation with me. Of course, the only problem with that is that, as I mentioned earlier, her English is all but nonexistent, and my Chinese, as I've noted numerous times before, is about as bad. But this won't stop her. She'll just start talking away in Chinese and then look at me, expectantly.

I can't answer. Most of the time, I don't even know what she's talking about. But that has yet to stop her trying, and when I smile at her and shrug my shoulders, she'll just return my grin with her larger one. It's impossible not to love her.

Just look at that smile! (I'll work on getting a better picture...)

At Qingshan, I have another impossibly sweet student named Irene. Unlike Angel, she's quiet, her English is pretty good and she doesn't hunt me down in between classes. But what she does do is sit at her table in the middle of the room and smile.

And her smile is fantastic. It's calm, self-assured, adorable (of course), and completely focused--a rarity in any noisy 5th grade classroom. With Irene smiling at me from the front of the class, I feel like I can do no wrong, like I'm a rock star English teacher and Irene is my new best friend, ready to help me conquer the world.

Even when she's not smiling, Irene's owl eyes are glued on me, self-possessed and encouraging in their steadfastness.

Note to anyone who is currently a student: smiling and making eye contact with your teacher really does make a difference in their day.

The best part is that these are just two of the students in my classes who are striking not simply in their ability to speak English skills or their ability to cause a ruckus in class, but rather in their inherently angelic nature. I began this post about Angel alone, but I soon realized I couldn't leave out Irene; after adding her, I wanted to also add Danny, and Betty, and so on.

I am blessed. Many teachers get only one class; I get 18. Many teachers get only 30 students; I get 550. And in those 550, there are more sweethearts than I could ever deserve to know.