James has another job interview tomorrow. We're hoping it will go well, but we've also decided hope is no longer enough. Elaborate ruses and deception are now in order.
The idea came to me a week ago.
"You should just tell your next interviewer you're Mexican." I suggested.
Most of James' interviewers have made it clear they don't want an Asian person as their foreign English teacher. It's easier to get a foreign teacher job here as a white-looking person who isn't a native English speaker than it is for an Asian-looking person who is a native English speaker. Thus, I figure the best thing James can do is convince everyone he isn't Asian.
James doesn't look Mexican at all. But there aren't very many Mexicans here, so maybe they'll buy it, I thought.
"Naw, I should say I'm Native Alaskan."
"OOOH GOOD IDEA!"
James doesn't look Native either, but it's marginally less of a stretch than Latino. Plus, Alaska is listed as his birthplace on his passport. So plausible enough, no?
Unfortunately Tienshing, his very Chinese middle name, is also printed on his passport.
"Just say it's your Native Alaskan name. Make up an alternate pronunciation. AND DON'T admit you speak Chinese."
James plans on applying all of the above tomorrow. Wish him luck, and I'll let you know if it works or not.
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
No Jobs for James
James: I have another interview tomorrow.
Me: Yeah?
James: They asked me if I was ABC.
Me: Why?
James: Because I talked about having family here. I told him I was half, and then he asked me if I look white.
Me: What did you say?
James: I said I looked mixed.
Me: Well, that's a lie.
James: No it's not. I have too much body hair to look completely Asian.
Unfortunately, the interviewer probably wont inspect James' hairy toes to determine his inner Caucasian.
By now we should be used to the racism thing, but it still confuses and amuses me. First off, there are plenty of locals teaching English in this country, whites don't monopolize the English-teaching industry. And James speaks better English than all the local teachers I've met to date. So what gives?
The interviewers always give some line like, "Oh the parents like white teachers ... so we have to pay you less," which basically sounds like an unsophisticated ruse to trick ABC (American-born Chinese) guys into working for less money. Parents don't have any say in teacher pay. Or do they come in after work and go, "That one, he looks Asian. I hope my cram school fees are being spent in greater proportion on the white people you employ around here."
The strangest part today was the person who James spoke with on the phone was an ABC (or so he told James). "It's very difficult for us. We have to work harder, we get paid less..." Sure guy. Can we say Uncle Tom? Then ABC guy made James write him a cover letter to prove his English ability. I applied with ABC guy and didn't have to write any such letter.
The whole thing is either absurd or incredibly, coldly pragmatic: There's huge turnover in foreign teachers. Work visas cost schools money. And, most foreign teachers come with the barest qualifications: a college degree in any subject, native English speaking skills and, hopefully, a passing ability to deal with children. So if teachers are pretty much considered interchangeable (and they are), I guess, as a school owner, you may as well hook one that looks foreign too.
As I mentioned in this post, marketing and appearances are most important to the average cram school.
Me: Yeah?
James: They asked me if I was ABC.
Me: Why?
James: Because I talked about having family here. I told him I was half, and then he asked me if I look white.
Me: What did you say?
James: I said I looked mixed.
Me: Well, that's a lie.
James: No it's not. I have too much body hair to look completely Asian.
Unfortunately, the interviewer probably wont inspect James' hairy toes to determine his inner Caucasian.
By now we should be used to the racism thing, but it still confuses and amuses me. First off, there are plenty of locals teaching English in this country, whites don't monopolize the English-teaching industry. And James speaks better English than all the local teachers I've met to date. So what gives?
The interviewers always give some line like, "Oh the parents like white teachers ... so we have to pay you less," which basically sounds like an unsophisticated ruse to trick ABC (American-born Chinese) guys into working for less money. Parents don't have any say in teacher pay. Or do they come in after work and go, "That one, he looks Asian. I hope my cram school fees are being spent in greater proportion on the white people you employ around here."
The strangest part today was the person who James spoke with on the phone was an ABC (or so he told James). "It's very difficult for us. We have to work harder, we get paid less..." Sure guy. Can we say Uncle Tom? Then ABC guy made James write him a cover letter to prove his English ability. I applied with ABC guy and didn't have to write any such letter.
The whole thing is either absurd or incredibly, coldly pragmatic: There's huge turnover in foreign teachers. Work visas cost schools money. And, most foreign teachers come with the barest qualifications: a college degree in any subject, native English speaking skills and, hopefully, a passing ability to deal with children. So if teachers are pretty much considered interchangeable (and they are), I guess, as a school owner, you may as well hook one that looks foreign too.
As I mentioned in this post, marketing and appearances are most important to the average cram school.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
More Adventures in Racism
Today James and I went to a teaching interview together. On the outside the school looked like a castle. On the inside it looked like a souped-up McDonald's playground. It was charming, but the school that spends money on plastic sea creatures suspended from the ceiling and benches painted to look like piano keys has to skimp somewhere. We found out where.
We interviewed in the AMERICA, Fuck Yeah! wing of the school. There were no less than three giant Statue of Liberties. A Mount Rushmore mural took up a wall. The common areas were strung with rows of American flags. The seats were plastic red-white-and-blue atrocities.
There was a big panel in a hallway all about America. Under "dress" there was a picture of a cowboy and under "food" was pictures of steak, a hamburger and fries. Nothing like meat, potatoes and ten-gallon hats to fill my heart with patriotic fervor. Under places they had photos of the Guggenheim, Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and - since this is a map of America for Asian kids - Harvard.
Neither of us were asked about our ability to teach. But we were told we'd need to do after-hours marketing for the school, and we'd have to be there on Christmas for a special program. The interviewer spent five minutes explaining how we'd be waterboarded, electrocuted, then ritualistically slaughtered if we broke the school's contract. "We'll sue you, put you on the blacklist, and make sure you can't come back to Taiwan," I believe is what she said.
Our interview was interrupted when an Aussie dude with gnarly Buddha forearm tats came up demanding to know where the interviewer put his books.
"I didn't take them anywhere!"
"I will crucify you," he muttered storming away.
After the first grouchy Australian I'd ever seen in real life disappeared, then came the kicker:
The interviewer, who was Taiwanese, made some hemming and hawing noises. She looked at James and said, "I'm very sorry, it's not because you wouldn't be a good teacher, but you have to know you will make less than her because of the parents want their kids to learn from people that aren't from here."
She was clearly in need of some no-bullshit clarification assistance:
"So what you're saying is you pay your Asian-looking teachers less than your white-looking teachers?"
"Umm. Yes."
She asked us if we wanted to be separated to hear what the school was offering each of us for salary. Both of us knowing I would lord my higher earning potential over James at home anyways, we declined.
She then offered to pay me peanuts and pay James peanut shells. We peaced out of that mess shortly thereafter.
Ironically, despite his Asiany Asianness, James had a better grasp of the English language than me until about, mmm, three years ago. I went to an alternative elementary school where my teachers employed the not-teaching-grammar alternative. No one bothered to fill me in on who/whom and noun-verb agreement until I was 19 and in journalism school.
No matter, all signs point to us finding better, higher-paying jobs in non-racist environs.
It's strange job hunting in a country where an employer doesn't have to sweat a lawsuit when she says "we're looking for whites." Looks matter here, and I'm going to benefit being a young, caucasian lady with a full set of teeth. There are plenty of white teachers in Taipei, but the minority are women. And I've heard "we're only looking for women" plenty this week.
I had a second interview tonight. Afterward I met James and his mom in a Japanese restaurant where Tina was once again employing the Tina-Meiser style job finding approach: She was chatting up the restaurant owner who told her where the English schools are near our apartment. He scoffed at the school James and I had our lame encounter at before Tina even told him the story. He looked to me (the non-Chinese speaker) and made the international sign for motorcycle: raised fists and motorboat mouth, indicating the racist school was too far from Nankan anyway. He took down our names, cellphone number and email address - just in case he came across something.
Aside from the bizarre white lady hunters I've dealt with this week, the people of Taiwan have been incredibly friendly and helpful to James and me.
We interviewed in the AMERICA, Fuck Yeah! wing of the school. There were no less than three giant Statue of Liberties. A Mount Rushmore mural took up a wall. The common areas were strung with rows of American flags. The seats were plastic red-white-and-blue atrocities.
There was a big panel in a hallway all about America. Under "dress" there was a picture of a cowboy and under "food" was pictures of steak, a hamburger and fries. Nothing like meat, potatoes and ten-gallon hats to fill my heart with patriotic fervor. Under places they had photos of the Guggenheim, Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and - since this is a map of America for Asian kids - Harvard.
Neither of us were asked about our ability to teach. But we were told we'd need to do after-hours marketing for the school, and we'd have to be there on Christmas for a special program. The interviewer spent five minutes explaining how we'd be waterboarded, electrocuted, then ritualistically slaughtered if we broke the school's contract. "We'll sue you, put you on the blacklist, and make sure you can't come back to Taiwan," I believe is what she said.
Our interview was interrupted when an Aussie dude with gnarly Buddha forearm tats came up demanding to know where the interviewer put his books.
"I didn't take them anywhere!"
"I will crucify you," he muttered storming away.
After the first grouchy Australian I'd ever seen in real life disappeared, then came the kicker:
The interviewer, who was Taiwanese, made some hemming and hawing noises. She looked at James and said, "I'm very sorry, it's not because you wouldn't be a good teacher, but you have to know you will make less than her because of the parents want their kids to learn from people that aren't from here."
She was clearly in need of some no-bullshit clarification assistance:
"So what you're saying is you pay your Asian-looking teachers less than your white-looking teachers?"
"Umm. Yes."
She asked us if we wanted to be separated to hear what the school was offering each of us for salary. Both of us knowing I would lord my higher earning potential over James at home anyways, we declined.
She then offered to pay me peanuts and pay James peanut shells. We peaced out of that mess shortly thereafter.
Ironically, despite his Asiany Asianness, James had a better grasp of the English language than me until about, mmm, three years ago. I went to an alternative elementary school where my teachers employed the not-teaching-grammar alternative. No one bothered to fill me in on who/whom and noun-verb agreement until I was 19 and in journalism school.
No matter, all signs point to us finding better, higher-paying jobs in non-racist environs.
It's strange job hunting in a country where an employer doesn't have to sweat a lawsuit when she says "we're looking for whites." Looks matter here, and I'm going to benefit being a young, caucasian lady with a full set of teeth. There are plenty of white teachers in Taipei, but the minority are women. And I've heard "we're only looking for women" plenty this week.
I had a second interview tonight. Afterward I met James and his mom in a Japanese restaurant where Tina was once again employing the Tina-Meiser style job finding approach: She was chatting up the restaurant owner who told her where the English schools are near our apartment. He scoffed at the school James and I had our lame encounter at before Tina even told him the story. He looked to me (the non-Chinese speaker) and made the international sign for motorcycle: raised fists and motorboat mouth, indicating the racist school was too far from Nankan anyway. He took down our names, cellphone number and email address - just in case he came across something.
Aside from the bizarre white lady hunters I've dealt with this week, the people of Taiwan have been incredibly friendly and helpful to James and me.
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