For the first portion of my journey, I planned to stay in Dalian, China for a few months to be close to my family. I also wanted to try my hand at teaching. I had tutoring experience and my friend who had worked in China before assured me that it was ridiculously easy to get a teaching job. He told me that there are a lot of english training schools and they are all dying for native English speakers. The money wasn’t great but a part time teaching gig would cover all my living expenses. My friend wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t hard to get a teaching job in China but the job seeking process left me culture shocked, insulted, and amused at the same time.
Dalian, unlike bigger cities like Beijing or Shanghai still didn’t have the networks to link foreigners with language schools. At first, I tried applying online. Since I speak only broken Chinese, I though this was the best way to go. The city was littered with English schools but they rarely have English websites. The ones that allowed you to submit resumé online took too long to go through them. I only got responses to the applications I submitted in February in April.
Impatient, I went to the English school in the neighbourhood to ask them whether they had any openings. I had no trouble finding them; there was at least one every block downtown. I figured I would just drop off my resume with the receptionist and be on my way. However, the headmaster or HR personnel would usually be called in to see me. Probably due to the fact that the receptionist spoke very little or no English.
Here’s how that conversation usually went:
Headmaster: *looks at me with elevator eyes* Are you Asian?
Headmaster: Are you Chinese?
Me: Yes. But I grew up in Canada.
Headmaster: But we are looking for a foreign teacher.
Me: I AM a foreign teacher. I’m from Canada. I’ve been speaking English most of my life. I have experience tutoring in Canada. Here is a copy of my resume. Please take a look.
Headmaster: Okay… so….you’re from Canada. Are both of your parents Chinese?
Me: Yes, they are both Chinese.
Then they would proceed to ask me a series of questions which would be highly inappropriate Canada and not at all relevant. Things like: Are your parents in Canada? Are your grandparents in Canada? What do they do? How old are you? Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? No one ever looked at the resume. If I were to do this again, I would write keeping it real and pimpin’ as my special skills and add that I’ve been voted the #1 narcotics sales rep in the Greater Toronto Area for 3 years in a row (it’s all about being #1 in China). I will bet anything that no one would notice. It would also make the interview process much more fun.
Some of the places blatantly told me that they were looking for a Caucasian teacher but if they didn’t find anyone, they would give me a call. One lady actually asked me if I had any white friends for the job. “Bitch, are you kidding me?!”, I thought and looked at her wide eyed.
The most disappointing fact is that they weren’t looking for more qualified teachers, just more White. I was really surprised by how broken most of the English teachers’ English was. Most of the teachers were Russian exchange students with really strong accents. They could barely string an English sentence together.
Despite the baffling interview process, it only took me a week to find a position at a public school. I later found out that I got hired because the HR lady thought I was Spanish.