At this point, I’m choosing to believe that 2016 is actually the darkest timeline.

Either that, or we are the timeline (SPOILERS) where Rick was arrested by the Galactic Federation. In the real timeline, David Bowie is singing at Hillary Clinton’s victory party.

The alternatives are too depressing.

Today was rough for Americans.

My first election ever, I voted for Obama. He was not the first president I traveled under,and the change was immediate. His name was like a high credit score- doors opened, strangers smiled. For a little while, Americans abroad were small time celebrities.

My second presidential election… well, I was out knocking on doors. I’ve mentioned it before on this blog, but that was my first job out of college. Registering new voters, talking to undecided voters, organizing grassroots teams. It was an incredible, stressful, transforming experience. One that I can’t really do justice in just a few paragraphs.

But even when it got ugly in 2008 and in 2012, you could feel the boundaries. McCain would not let a woman at his rally refer to Obama as a foreign Muslim. Romney caught hell for his “47%” comments. Today was something different entirely. It’s really going to be a new era, good and bad.

Today was surreal. One 6th grade teacher told her class to behave, because I had enough stress from the election already. Then I asked them how they would vote, if they could. 29 said for Hillary, 1 for Trump (but he put his hand down when he realized we didn’t mean the trump card game) Many teachers were quite kind and were happy to chat about it, but I could feel some of them giving me a wide berth near the end of the school day as the results were called.

It’s a strange time to be abroad.

Today was an interesting day.

I was called in at the crack of dawn to substitute teach in a different district, about an hour away.

Sometimes I dread subbing. You don’t have as much preparation time, you don’t know your way around, and often, you are reminded of how… “unusual,” for lack of a better word, you are. It’s such a stupid cliche that I hate to even acknowledge it, but I am the only white teacher at any of the schools where I teach so I guess that’s the best way to phrase it. I have had children scream in shock when I walk into their class. Multiple times in the same day. The downsides of subbing comes with perks though. The expectations are lower, you get to see a different style of teaching than what you are used to, and often you can spend a lot of time on introductions, just discussing your culture.

It was a nice school. Teachers were very friendly, and I was set up to teach four 5th grade classes throughout the day. Early on, I noticed a larger number of foreign kids from around the world in my classes; many of them seemed bored out of their skulls at the somewhat basic sentences we were reviewing. One adorable kid asked if I liked history and then started telling me about his favorite era, the Sengoku Jidai, in Japanese. I was pleased that I caught a bit of it.

The more I walked around the class and asked questions, I started hearing…  something unusual.

Different variations of English language accents.

Huh.

I asked a teacher in the staff lounge (who, coincidentally, had a flawless Vancouver accent)
The part of town I was subbing in hosts the international headquarters for a few companies, as well as some government agencies, so people regularly move back and forth overseas. I was hearing Australian, English, New Zealand, Floridian, Nebraskan accents all throughout the school.

My last class, the homeroom teacher asked if I had any questions for her class. I asked the kids to raise their hand if they had lived in a different country. Around 1/3 of the students raised their hand, having had lived or studied abroad. All of them were around 10 years old.

From Ms. Holliday Golightly; Traveling. Shibuya Crossing.

Earlier this week, I was called in to sub at a junior high. This was the sight that greeted me at the train station:

Trains are usually quite packed in the morning; it’s standard to really be able to move your arms or legs, or even see below chest level. I’ve heard stories of people losing their briefcases or bags, stuck in between people. But this was a different issue altogether. Train delays meant that we were really going in, sardine style. And it was an hour long train.

Luckily, I was subbing at a school where a friend worked.After this wonderful human being learned of my plight via text, I was met with surprise breakfast at my desk. The rest of the day passed much better than the morning commute, including a short discussion in one class on the American civil right’s movement.

Walking into a second grade class room, I’m immediately enveloped from the waist down by a small cluster of children, all huge smiles, happy to see me. I give out a million high touches, feeling like the Pope in a crowd at Easter, and shoo the students back to their seats.

“OK class, who is feeling happy today?” Four or five hands shoot up.

“Who feels angry today?”

One hand.

“Who feels sick?”

Over ten hands shoot up.

Groan.

 

When I try to win cool-sensei points with my 5th graders by shoehorning AKB48/Yokai Watch/Pokemon Go/Vodka Tampons (kidding) into any conceivable topic, only to find out that was soooo last week.

 

26 is not that old, y’all.

I did make some progress with a class when, frustrated at the difference with capitalization, I explained that letters evolve under certain circumstances, like Pokemon.

“So we learned ‘a’ last week, which evolves into ‘A!’ same with
‘b’-> ‘B’, and
‘c’-> ‘C’!”

And that was when I felt like this:

 

“Okay class, what do cats say?”

“Nyan, nyan!”

“And what do american cats say?”

“Meow!”

“Great! What do dogs say?”

“Wan wan! wan wan!”

“And what do American dogs say?”

“Ruff ruff, bark bark!”

“What do ducks say?”

“Ga ga ga”

“Good, what do American ducks say?”

“Aflac!!!”