Putty (or, Delusions of a Common or Garden TEFL Teacher)

Ibn Tyne, Saudi Arabia

Putty (or, Delusions of a Common or Garden TEFL Teacher)

Here he is in my class, Mr. “So and So”—
The founder, captain of business, the CEO
Of one of the country’s top franchise companies.
Now one of the crowd, he’s a little ill at ease.
See how his self-assurance, his command, have gone
As I correct his mistakes and his stroppy pron?
See how he winces as he trips through his sentences;
His fossilized errors surface when he tenses.
He’s putty in my hands. He knows that and he shows
He needs it, this trade language, as his business grows,
To be on an equal footing with his peers
From abroad, as he reaches ever higher tiers.
And so the CEO plays our games, runs to and fro,
Pairs up with teenagers, clerks, and learns to let go
Under my classroom control. He proves a keen writer,
Ready to redraft in the wake of my cruel highlighter.
He knows a fellow pro and values my advice,
My map for his progress; that it has a time price.
I have his confidence and I have some leverage,
Some clout to call on - “Any help! It’s my privilege.”
Yet he disturbs my lessons to answer endless
“Urgent” calls. (CEOs don’t switch off during class.)
The other students engage him in tasks and group
Work, but otherwise he’s left out of their loop.
We feel his presence in his frequent absences;
Still reserve his chair in case of late appearance,
Although the class core has moved on, geared up for
The final exam. He might just slip through the closing door.
Though he scraped a pass, he didn’t reregister—
He’s busy with local and foreign investors.
Pressing business means he remains a dilettante—
Too preoccupied to contact his confidante.
Should I need it, there’s always the ‘Get-Out-Of-Jail’
Option; a mover and shaker like him can’t fail.
In an emergency, if times get really hard,
I’ll parachute to safety with his business card.