A Good Day to Die
Did you ever feel like you were born a few centuries too late? Or too early? In my high
school, there was a bit of a recurring joke about me. It finally came to my attention partway into
grade 11. One day, in Math 20, the class strayed off topic and the discussion started about what
we were all going to do after graduation. When the teacher asked me what my plans for the
future were, a grade 12 student -- I think his name was Dean -- spoke up. "We all know what
Mark's going to do," he said. "He's heading off to Starfleet Academy!" The class erupted into
laughter, but I couldn't help but wish things were that simple. Head off to the Academy, and
from there, to a position on some starship, exploring vast, uncharted worlds. Or even to have
been born in the past, when I could have signed aboard Christopher Columbus' expedition, and
out across the sea to another vast, uncharted world. But no, I was born now. If I want to do
some exploring, I have to take crazy, unwarranted risks. Like applying to one of these outfits
that teaches English as a second language in Japan.
Teaching was a profession I was always leery of getting into. My mother served on a
school board for 15 years. I personally saw the statistics spread out on my kitchen table. The
average teacher being churned out by the education system is always, most likely, an honor
student. Throughout their lives, they have known nothing but school and a devotion to learning.
When school ends, they are suddenly at a crossroads. Fearful of what a future outside of school
might mean, they become teachers, and thus recycle themselves back into the education system.
They go through their teacher schools with a bright optimism. "Every student is like me," they
think to themselves. "They are there with an open mind and heart filled with nothing but a
dedication to learning. Just like I was. Teaching will be easy, because every student is just like I
was." So, these young teachers get their B.ED., and step into a classroom for the first time.
Here is where the real world comes crashing in. Every student is not like them. There are
students who would much rather be doing other things than sitting in school. This rookie teacher
will run into countless frustration as he/she constantly tries to reach out to the average and below
average students, until this rookie is worn down. Burnt out and disillusioned, the teacher will
quit after doing it for one year. Looking at these statistics, I couldn't help but feel that I'd be
giving up on my dreams if I were to become a teacher.
About a year ago, when Chuck and L revealed to me that teaching was something that
they were going to get into, and that perhaps I should do it too, I was offended. What was it
about my friends that made them think I was ready to give up? They tried to explain it to me.
They weren't going to just become math teachers at some little high school. They were going to
go teach English as a second language in Japan. They weren't going to do this because they
were giving up. They were going to do it because it had it's own unique set of challenges! They
were going to do it because they could explore a foreign country! They were going to do it
because they wanted to see parts of this world that they only dreamed of! (Plus, the money
wasn't too bad, and they figured they could pay off their student loans within a year.) As much
as they tried to win me over, I would always say no. At the end of the day, I'd still be teacher.
I'd just be another honor student afraid to face the real world. Chuck and L applied to do it, got
the jobs, and shipped out late last year.
With my two best friends gone, and the loneliness starting to set in, I couldn't help but
see some of the things they told me in a new light. Here I was, wanting to get out and explore
the world, but always lamenting how fate and money conspired against me to keep me from
doing it. What would be so bad about doing this, then? Yeah, it's teaching, but it's in Japan!
This is a culture I'd only seen in documentaries and read about in books. And this is an adult
education setting. I'm not teaching kids against their will. I'd be teaching adults who had come
out of their own choice. I'd be teaching people who want to be there. As I looked around at my
small room in my parents' basement, and considered my menial job as a glorified cashier, I
realized that I simply had nothing to lose. When 2002 began, I fired off an application to the
company that Chuck and L worked for, if for no other reason to at least see if I was as good as
my friends.
As January progressed, I was in a happy little denial. With the application gone, so were
my hopes of getting any kind of position. I just began going about my life, secure in the
knowledge that nothing would come of what I did. Then, about two weeks after I mailed my
application, I was home alone for the evening. I was making a dinner of Japanese noodles,
coincidently enough, when I got a phone call. It was the recruiter for the company. They had
gotten my application, and wanted to know if I could fly out to Vancouver for an interview.
Somewhat stunned, I blurted out a yes. The interview was to be in three weeks. I had that time
to get a plane ticket, find accommodations, and prepare a sample lesson plan. The plane ticket
was easy enough. After checking out some motel prices, I finally decided to swallow my pride
and ask L's parents if I could stay with them. They were more than welcoming. That just left a
lesson plan.
I had never written a lesson plan before. I immediately jumped online and began looking
for English as a second language lesson plans that I could emulate. I found several, but that
wasn't enough. I needed someone I could talk to and fill in some of the blanks. I tracked down
one of my old university friends who had become a teacher, and we spent an evening on the
phone going over lesson plan structures and how a lesson should flow. Several days, several
drafts, and several ideas later, I had finally made something that looked like a lesson plan: A
Night At the Movies, in which I'd attempt to teach some of the more common phrases used at the
movies. I spent quite a few hours rehearsing it in my room. From when I took German as my
second language in university, I remembered that languages are best taught when the students
constantly practice it, so I attempted to create a very interactive lesson that relied heavily on
student volunteers. As I practiced in my room, the only volunteers I could find were my dog and
cat. Try as I might, I could not teach them English.
The three weeks seemed to fly by. It wasn't long before it was time to go. I packed my
things very carefully. To look my best at the interview, I got my suit pressed and spent hours
selecting just the right tie. I threw my walkman into my carry-on bag, along with tapes
containing some of my most relaxing and best confidence-boosting music. And then, I reached
into the little jar on my dresser, and pulled out my lucky Star Trek pin. It's a half-size Next
Generation communicator pin that I picked up at a Star Trek convention 10 years ago. I wore it
to every final exam in high school and university, and I attribute my honor student status as
much to that pin as I do the late nights studying. With the pin safely pinned to my carry-on bag,
I was ready to go.
A quick hour and a half later, I again found myself in the Vancouver International
Airport. I thought I wouldn't be seeing that town again for a very long time. By sheer
coincidence, my arrival gate was the exact same one from when I went to visit Chuck and L back
in September. It all seemed so familiar, yet so alien. After waiting for about half-an-hour, L's
mother met up with me, and we walked out into a typically cloudy day in Vancouver.
My evening was a nerve-wracking one spent in L's home. After going over the bus
schedule with L's mother so I could get to the interview on time, I tried to settle down somewhat
by watching a little television. The best I could do was a rerun of Touched By An Angel. It's not
my favorite show, not even one I'm a casual viewer of, but I needed something, anything, to get
my mind off of the pressures of the next day. Just as I was getting wrapped up in the plot, L's
mother came into the room. She said that there was someone on the phone who wanted to talk
to me. Being a typical mother, she was making her weekly check-up call to her offspring. It was
high noon in Japan, so that meant she had gotten Chuck and L out of bed. For the first bit of our
conversation, L was barely conscious and it took her about five minutes to realize it was me.
She passed the phone to Chuck, and for the next few minutes they took turns on the phone,
recounting some of their adventures in Japan, giving their thumbs-up to my lesson plan, and
giving what they felt was the most important piece of advice they could give: "Just relax, and
you'll do fine." When we were done, and I let them start their day, I went for a walk in the cool
night air.
When I got back from my walk, I knew I should perhaps do some preparation. I went up
to my room and unpacked my lesson plan. I strapped on my walkman, and began rehearsing my
lesson to the sounds of Star Trek: The Astral Symphony. I read and re-read my lesson plan while
pacing though my room. Occasionally, my mind would veer off and I would find myself
muttering out loud as I threw out a possible interview question and came up with a response. I
had trouble focusing. Until Ilia's Theme came on. This sweeping, romantic theme from Star
Trek: The Motion Picture is the closest that Star Trek has ever come to producing a love theme.
When it began, I stopped everything, closed my eyes, and just let it take me away. I was no
longer worried about the next two days. I was no longer worried about my motivations for doing
this. I was drifting among the stars. It was time for bed. Tomorrow would be a big day.
I hardly had any breakfast that morning. The butterflies had taken up all room in my
stomach. The first day of the interview began at 1 PM. Since I was still unfamiliar with this
public transportation system, I wanted to allow myself lots of time to get lost and find my way
again. L's mother drove me down to the bus station, and I hopped the express for downtown
Vancouver at 10 am. I tried to relax on the bus. I stretched out in my seat, and just watched the
buildings go by. Ilia's Theme was stuck in my head, and I occasionally found myself humming
it as the bus continued on its course. I kept glancing at my watch -- a nervous tick of mine -- to
make sure I'd be on time. Some of the buildings looked familiar from my previous visit, others
seemed new. The buildings started getting larger and larger. I knew I was getting closer to
downtown. I started keeping my eyes peeled for street signs. The stop where L's mother told
me I had to get off soon came up. I pulled the rope, and soon found myself on the streets of
Vancouver's downtown core.
The bus stop was right in front of a large office building, with a fountain in front. I knew
I'd need all the luck I could get on this day, so I reached into my pocket and removed a penny. I
tossed it into the fountain, and began my walk. I had recognized the building I needed to get to
from the bus, so it was easy enough to find my way. I just had to head west until I got to the
waterfront. The tall buildings on either side of me soon ended, and I was looking out at the
Pacific Ocean. Directly to my right was the place I needed to be: Canada Place, and the
luxurious Pan Pacific Hotel. When I stepped into the lobby, I again glanced at my watch. It was
a quarter past 11. I was an hour and 45 minutes early. I had time to kill. I whiled it away by
exploring Canada Place. Chuck and L never brought me down to this area when I was visiting
them, so it was mostly an undiscovered territory to me. I wandered around a bit, starting
wistfully over the ocean. There was a McDonald's nearby, and the butterflies in my stomach
had settled a bit, so I had a lunch of Chicken McNuggets. With my explorer's curiosity satisfied,
I found a comfy chair in the lobby. I had another half-hour still, so I pulled out my lesson plan
and again went over it.
At this point, I had an amusing distraction. Sitting next to me in the lobby was a group of
attractive young women. I won't lie, my gaze did linger on them for a while. Soon, another
woman came up to them, most likely the leader of the bunch. She whipped out a notepad and
began issuing instructions. "OK, I jut got off the phone with them, and they charge this much
for this kind of tour and this much for this kind of tour. They claim that they offer service in
French, Japanese, and Spanish, so I want you to ask about it in French, you in Japanese, and you
in Spanish." At this point, I was still gazing at their beauty, and my look became a somewhat
puzzled one. The leader locked eyes with me, giggled slightly, and began to explain what was
going on. "Oh, don't worry, we're not weird or anything," she said. "We're university students,
and we're working on a project. We're seeing how many of these tour companies live up to
their promises." I nodded in understanding. Satisfied that I knew what was going on and that
her team had their assignments, the group of women moved out, and I was again alone with my
lesson plan.
I tried to focus on my lesson plan for a little longer, but I couldn't. There were no more
insights I could get into teaching by staring at that sheet of paper. I closed my eyes, and took a
few deep breaths. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was a full 10 minutes before the
interview. If I wanted to be my usual, punctual self, I thought, I'd better head on up to the
interview. I placed my lesson plan back in my briefcase. I took one more deep breath, and
muttered to myself the now-famous Klingon battle cry: "Today is a good day to die."
I drifted on up to the hotel's conference level, where the interviews were being held. The
recruiter I spoke to on the phone greeted me there, and escorted me into one of the conference
rooms. Even though I was 10 minutes early, I was the fourth one to arrive. Day one of the
interviews was working like this: all of us hopefuls would be given a lecture by the recruiter
about what the company does, what it stands for, how their contracts work. Essentially, we'd be
told exactly what the hell we're getting into. Then, we each get up there and teach our sample
lesson, with the rest of the hopefuls being our class. Since we were still waiting for people to
arrive, the recruiter put me to work doing what the rest of the hopefuls were doing: a quiz,
testing our grammar skills. Immediately, I panicked. I wasn't an English major like Chuck, or
dating an English major like L. It had been a while since I needed to test my grammar skills.
But, not wanting to back down from the challenge, I jumped into it. Some of the problems had
fairly obvious solutions, other problems were more difficult. I have a simple rule with grammar.
Say the sentence out loud. If it doesn't sound right, then it probably isn't.
When the rest of the hopefuls showed up, it was time to begin. The recruiter launched
into the lecture, telling us about the company and its goals. Again, I won't lie, I tuned out for
most of it. When the recruiter began talking about what holidays we got off, pens around me
started wiggling as the other hopefuls began recording when they could go home to visit their
loved ones. But not me. I just struggled to keep my mind on her lecture. Holidays aren't
important unless you get the job. Then, she showed us a recruitment video, giving a tour of one
of the schools and a day in the life of a teacher. There were also some of their current TV spots
on Japanese television, with their current spokesperson, Ewan McGregor. When that was all
done, it was time for us to give our sample lessons. The recruiter announced that we'd be doing
them alphabetically, and since there were no A's or B's, she'd start with the C's...and Cappis. I
smiled at the irony. Everyone had told me, "Mark, if there's a large group, at least you won't
have to go first." We convened for a short break, but I took out my lesson plan and began
prepping myself. One of the other hopefuls asked aloud, "Is anyone else here as nervous as I
am?" I said a very loud, very honest, "Oh, yeah."
When the break ended, it was time for me to put on my show. Taking a deep breath, I
walked to the front of the conference room/classroom and began going through my lesson. I
asked for my two student volunteers, and two readily jumped to the fore. I gave them my
carefully prepared cue cards and started giving them my instructions. Things were going
smoothly though my lesson until one of my student volunteers said the wrong line. I panicked. I
had run off an older draft of the cue cards! OK, I thought, this is salvageable. I brought things
to a halt, pulled my pen out from my suit pocket and jotted in the correct line. I then had my
volunteer read the correct line, and launched into a lecture within the lecture explaining the
reasoning behind the change. Things then went smoothly, until the my five minutes was up, and
I nervously blurted out, "Is that 5 minutes yet?" The recruiter then quizzed me on some aspects
of my lesson, and I was done. Time for someone else. As I marched back to my chair, I heard
one of my volunteers mutter under his breath, "Oh, God. I'm not as well prepared as that." It
made me feel a little better.
The others came, and I was able to relax a little more as the hard part was now over for
me. Someone did pretty much the exact same thing as myself, only going shopping was the
subject, rather than going to the movies. I was one of her student volunteers. Another did a
plain old lecture on past tense. One, who had geared her lesson towards preschoolers, did shapes
and colours. The most well-thought out and well prepared lesson was on slang terms. When
that was done, we were given some time to finish our grammar quizzes, and then told our times
for our interviews the next day. Mine was bright and early at 10 am. That afternoon, I walked
from Canada Place to the bus stop with only one thought on my mind: relief. The hard part was
over.
I made it back to L's folks OK, and I was fully able to relax and unwind that evening. As
far as I was concerned, the hard part, the lesson, was over. I'd been through job interviews
before. This one would be no different. I plopped myself in front of the television and lost
myself in the latest episodes of The Simpsons and Futurama. Just when I was planning on
calling whither and setting up something for the next day, she called me, and we made plans to
hook up at 11:30 and hang out. I crawled into bed that night with a calm I had not known in
weeks. The haunting melody of Ilia's Theme once again floated through my head as I drifted off
to sleep.
The next morning came, and with it the butterflies had returned to my stomach. They
weren't as bad as before, but still enough to keep me from having a healthy breakfast. I made
due with a piece of toast and a glass of milk. Just like the morning before, L's mother drove me
down to the bus station, dispensing all kinds of motherly advice along the way. I made the bus
on time. It was only the second day, but already it had become routine. I settled into my seat
and drifted off. Ilia's Theme continued to haunt me. This time, there was no fear over getting
off at the wrong stop. The bus stopped in front of that fountain, as before. I threw a penny in, as
before. This time, though, as I came up to the fountain in front of Canada Place, it, too, got a
penny thrown into it, and another wish for luck. Better safe than sorry. I glanced at my watch.
Now that I was more confident in the Vancouver public transportation system, I arrived a much
more reasonable half-hour before the interview. As before, I paced through the lobby of the
hotel to keep myself calm. When it was quarter to the hour, I headed on up to the office level.
I walked into the waiting room to find one of my fellow hopefuls from the previous day.
He hadn't quite finished his quiz, so he was taking his time to complete it. We exchanged
pleasantries, and I couldn't help but hit him up for information on what was in store for me. He
warned me that it was very hot in that room. I asked how he thought he did, and he said he
wasn't sure. At this point, the recruiter came around the corner and saw I had arrived. "Oh,
Mark," she said. "You're here early. Are you ready to do this now?"
"That depends," I asked. "Are you ready to do this now?"
"Oh, yeah," she said.
"Then let's do it," I said. She led me though a maze of hallways to an office with a huge
window overlooking the Vancouver skyline. It was awfully hot in that room, as the morning sun
was beating right through that window, turning the office into a greenhouse. I could feel the
sweat begin to bead on my forehead as I took my chair. I had to lean forward slightly to keep the
sun out of my eyes. It probably made me look more attentive than I really was. And then the
game began.
It started with the standard interview questions. "What's your complete work history?"
"What's your education in?" As always, I brought up my dual degrees in physics and math, and
that led to the most unusual question of the interview. "Well, since I've got a guy with a
technical background here, I wonder if you could help me with something." She got up, and led
me to controls of some sort on the wall. "I know it's ungodly hot in here. Are these controls for
the air conditioning? If so, how do I turn it on?" After fiddling with them for a few seconds, I
determined that they were for nothing but a circulation fan. She turned it up on high, and we
hoped that it would cool things down a little. It didn't. Literally and figuratively, I had to see if
I could stand the heat.
We resumed our seats and resumed the interview. There were some rather difficult
questions thrown out, like how would I deal with culture shock? I said I'd do my best to stay
busy; work through it. Another one was if she were to talk to my friends, what 3 adjectives
would they use to describe me? I chose shy, reflective, and sensitive. This, then, led into some
more job-specific questions like how would I reach out to a shy student and how would I deal
with a student who's thinking of giving up? I had to draw on my past experiences and remember
what my favorite teachers did to a shy student like myself, and I attempted to relate that to the
recruiter.
Then, she did ask what my hobbies were. Naturally, I said writing (I boasted about
having started my first novel), and going to the movies. She asked what kind of movies I liked,
and I said sci-fi. She said she could tell, and pointed to my lucky Star Trek pin, still on my
collar. I rubbed the pin self-consciously when I sheepishly said, "Yeah, that's my good luck
charm."
At this point, we started going over my lesson plan from the day before, and what things I
would do to improve it. She even brought out the company's textbooks and went over exactly
what things I'd have to add to make it a real lesson. Apparently, I did a great "middle section."
I just nodded and tried to learn, just in case I got the job.
From here, she then turned the tables. She asked if I had any questions for her. The first
thing that leapt to my mind was, "Is it worth it?" She said yes. Secondly, it was, "Well, I see
that a workday doesn't start until noon. What is there for a morning person like myself to do?"
She suggested many things. Then, once again, letting my short-sightedness get the better of me,
I asked, "Are the majority of North American films released to theaters dubbed or subtitled?"
She said subtitled, but also warned that movies cost about $25 CDN to go, so they are a rare and
special treat.
The interview ended with, what I think, was the most optimistic sign. She asked if I
personally had a problem with getting my work visa processed in Edmonton, and I said no
problem whatsoever. From there, it seemed that things were done. We got up, shook hands, and
she said I'd know in two weeks. I found my way out through the maze of hallways and back
down to the lobby.
It was over. The weeks of planning and preparation, and it was over. I was now loose on
the streets of Vancouver with only one thought on my mind: food. The butterflies were gone,
and I was starving. I went to the McDonald's across the street and got a cheeseburger. When
my belly was full, I began reflecting on everything that I had just been through. There were no
worries over what I should have done in my lesson or interview. There were no regrets over
what I didn't do. There were no fears over how well I did. There were no worst-case or best-case scenarios playing out in my head of where my life would go from here. I was just...calm. I
was overcome with a serenity. I just knew that I did the absolute best I could, and that there was
nothing left for me to do. I was...satisfied. I again began exploring Canada Place. There was an
hour to kill before I met up with whither. I went out the farthest I could and stared out at the
ocean. I couldn't help but think of what was on the other side.
I was truly born a few centuries too late. What would have it been like to set sail on a
tall ship and head out across the sea in search of new lands? I was truly born a few centuries too
early. What would it be like to board a starship and head out into space in search of new life and
new civilizations? But I was born now. There are still places for me to explore. There are still
undiscovered countries I can voyage to. I just have to put a little more effort into it. There is no
safety and security of a Starfleet Academy. There is no captain like Christopher Columbus for
me to put my faith in. My safety, security, and faith must come from within. I was born in my
time, and in the end, there is no more exciting time than your own.
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