Job Discussion Forums

[coffeespoonman]

This post is largely spawned from a comment in a different post asking why a qualified/serious teacher would leave the security of Canada to come here and work at a language school.

I am a serious teacher. I have graduate degrees, and years of experience teaching at a University in the US. However, I didn't like teaching University because of the academic pressure, so...

If I worked as a teacher in a high school in the US (shudder), I think I would make about $33,000 USD a year. Of course, if I wanted to live downtown in a big city, like I do here in Ist., I would have to pay much more rent. True, I would have a much more modern flat, and wouldn't have to worry about being electrocuted when I get in the shower... but that problem is being fixed. Of course, I could live in the suburbs in the US, buy a car and spend lots of money on gas, insurance, maintenance, and the car itself... Because public transport in the US is largely nonexistent.

Additionally, the government would eat like 25% of my salary. Right now, they get nothing. And in the US, I would pay a lot more for many things, such as food, clothes, CDs, and computer software, which is basically what I spend my money on anyhow.

Maybe I'm crazy, but I don't think the money here is that bad. I make a little more than 2000 YTL a month, and I have no benefits, but in the end, with my bonus and rental allowance, I would make about $23,000 USD a year (if I had signed a year contract). And my girlfriend makes only a little less, so our combined income would be about $44,000. With the cheaper prices, that sounds quite comparable to the real value of our income in the US.

On top of that, I get to experience a new culture, a new cuisine, and a new, interesting, if often vile, city. I get to take holidays in Greece, Bulgaria, and the Ukraine, instead of Indiana, Michigan, and Kentucky (I am from Ohio).

So, why would someone give up the security in Canada or the US for Istanbul? Well, personally, I'm not looking for security. Security bored me to tears. I want to learn about the world, to experience new things, and to enrich my worldview, preferably while making enough money to have a good life and travel. I left America because I no longer wanted to be American, because of the culture, the government, and in general, the way of life. If I were looking for a nice, quiet job, in a comfortable, cozy place... Maybe a family and a picket fence... Heck no, I wouldn't live in Istanbul. But for a change, for some professional and personal development, why not trade the "security" of N. America for 2000 YTL a month?

Thoughts?

[Otterman Ollie]

Hey CSM thats not a bad salary ,bearing in mind you have a girlfriend and get to take more interesting holidays than you would back home I say go for it son.
The cost of living over here even in stanbul is pretty good compared with the states and canada .so going back to all that hassle and stress for a few sheckles more is a no brainer the longer you stay here the less likely you wanna go back . good luck .

[scot47]

Being a 'Stambouli' is a lot better.

[coffeespoonman]

Actually, I prefer "Stromboli" And there's a excellent place in Moda that makes it.

[teacherdude]

When I worked at ET, I worked 34 hrs a week max.
Averaged abt. 2 500 ytl/ month and thus was happy to stay there.

I work less hours now, same money (sometimes more) and a lot less stress.

As I said earlier, u were hired becz u r not willing to be paid what r worth .

U prob. have less stress becz they were willing to stop the repeat for free rubbish.

If u r happy...good for u. But (no offense) ur posts smacks of newbiness.

40 hrs a week for u salary or
less for more money.

U could do worse than ET...u could also do better.

Is ur deal that bad.? NO.

Is it that good? Not really.

But if it works for u, then that's reall all that matters

If it makes u feel any better, I make more money, less hours, but don't enjoy the active (school) social life that Idid at ET.

REgards,
Dude

[Mark Loyd]

The 2000 YTL you earn for 40 hours a week is really pay for a job and a half. Your pay for an average 25 hours a week plus prep, admin etc. would be miserly.

Your 2000 is only possible because you started at the peak time for language schools. June to Sept you will get next to nothing. Take away the holidays, slack time and class changes you will average a lot less.

Your newbiness is clouding your judgement.

The 33 000 you quoted for a high school teacher is absurd. I googled as dmb would say average high school salaries and it was more than double that.

The hourly pay has gone down in real terms over the years where we work and it will never go up. How do you feel about earning that long term?

2 people working-not bad I suppose but assuming you might want to get married and have kids, most people do, would you be happy supporting a family on that?

The drudgery of little prep, 40 hours a week classes when you can get it year in year out-shudder.

No sick pay, no holidays, no security sounds like fun when you are a newbie but for ever?

You don`t pay tax because you are an illegal. Nothing more nothing less.

Visa runs every 3 months-exciting.

Don`t high school teachers ever have holidays out of America? Two well qualified teachers living together and you are telling me they can`t afford a holiday?

[coffeespoonman]

Oh, you googled teachers salaries, eh? Oh, well then you must be correct... My good friend, a high school teacher, started 3 years ago at $33,000. Ok, maybe it's $35,000 now. Certainly not double. Why don't you stick to what you know. In any event, I don't care if it's $50,000. I wouldn't want to be a teacher in the US for anything.

Mark, you're the kind of guy who goes to a dinner party and tells everyone how crappy their jobs are compared to yours. All that does is make everyone insecure, uncomfortable, and annoyed. I like my job. I don't care what you say. And many other people here like their jobs as well. I'm sorry that you didn't/don't/never will, but that doesn't give you an excuse to be a jerk to everyone who wants to have a decent conversation on this board.

Sorry, I've got to go teach at my crappy job that I love. Hope your day is as good as mine.

[dmb]

[tekirdag]

Don't take it personally, Coffeespoonman. If you are happy living in Istanbul and enjoy your job, that's great. ESL isn't for everyone but if it is for you, then relax and be confident with your choice.
Don't let posts here get to you too much. Life goes on despite this forum.

[Mark Loyd]

[calsimsek]

Mark: ''No sick pay, no holidays, no security sounds like fun when you are a newbie but for ever? You don`t pay tax because you are an illegal. Nothing more nothing less. Visa runs every 3 months-exciting. ''

I earn a bit over 2000 Y.T.L per month, have privet health care and work from 8.30 -3.30 monday to friday (half day off on Thursday). My wife has a good job and privet health.

My mother in law helps with our son. It can be a pain, but I trust her alot more than some stranger doing it for money.

So as you can see its not as hard as Mark makes out. I'm 100% legal, my school pays my taxes, and I even have a S.S.K number. Your right to enjoy it.

Btw I still do privet work and the odd class at a language school.
Thats alot of extra income I could never pick up back home.

In the end thou, who cares. Its up to each of us to pick out what works for us. For you Turkey looks good, perhapes in two or three years you will regreet your time here.

As for Mark, he's just letting you know what he thinks. He does make a good point. Your Life here is never secure.

[Mark Loyd]

But the OP`s situation is nothing like yours and his situation is quickly becoming the norm here thanks to the unmentionable taking over.

[Mark Loyd]

For coffeespoonman in case he hasn`t read it:

The slavery of teaching English
(Filed: 17/01/2004)

The job is tedious, the salary appalling and the prospects nil. Sebastian Cresswell-Turner laments that 'no one with a scrap of ambition' would choose to teach English as a foreign language


Signora Pazzi shifted her bulk in the leather armchair, adjusted the position of a chunky gold bracelet on a fat wrist, and switched off her smile. "So what I want from all of you in 2004 is massima disponibilita, massima flessibilita and massima professionalita," she said, surveying the desultory band of English teachers assembled in front of her the morning after the school's Christmas party.

She paused to let the message sink in. "Any questions?" We stopped doodling, daydreaming and sizing up each other's hangovers, and a few of us made vague mumbling sounds.


'A pretty sad lot': Most teachers are cowed by the language schools, which are 'miserable bucket shops' that take 'a whacking great commission'

Maximum availability, maximum flexibility, and maximum professionalism . . . It was, of course, a preposterous demand. We all knew it, and so did our boss, who, sitting there dressed in a startling orange outfit and covered from head to toe in expensive gold jewellery, looked exactly like a large nesting hen.

None of us called her bluff, however. How could we? We were beggars, after all - the lowest of the low.

What this shrewd signora, who spoke not a word of the language she so profitably sold to various ministries and corporate clients in Rome, actually meant, was: "OK, you pathetic bums, this is the score. I'm not promising to give you any work at all, and if I do give you the odd hour here and there, you'll be paid peanuts . . . but, all the same, I want you to be fully available for anything and everything. Plus, you're all going to pretend that you are immensely privileged to be doing this grotty little job. Geddit?"

Later on, a few of us assembled for a coffee in the bar round the corner. The mood was far from festive.

"Anyone know anyone who's got a room to rent?" asked the permanently broke and intermittently homeless 37-year-old Pam.

"I'm looking for a place, too," said someone else.

And so it went on, a litany of woes of the sort you would expect to hear among tramps in a doss-house. Only two people among the dozen-odd teachers at the school did not live in the most abject poverty: Nick, 42, who was shacked up with his management-consultant girlfriend; and Serena, 35, who was married to a prosperous businessman and for whom teaching was a convenient source of pocket-money.

Well, perhaps three: the author of this article occasionally translates film scripts that earn him as much in a fortnight as he gets in two months of teaching English. For which he thanks his lucky stars.

English is Britain's main cultural export to the rest of the world; but the industry that has followed in its footsteps is a bad joke on a colossal scale. The joke starts with the name: TEFL, as it's called in the trade, an ugly acronym that is pronounced "tefful" and stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language. From here onwards, it's downhill all the way.

Let's take the pay and conditions first, and let's take Rome, where I have lived for the past eight years. Typically, an English teacher working flat-out for a variety of employers and private pupils might earn �1,500 (�1,000) a month pre-tax for 10 months a year: �10,000 annually, therefore.

Permanent positions are scarce, and there is no work in the summer; although if you are willing to sell yourself into servitude, there are plenty of 10-month contracts from September to June that leave you washed up and penniless at the start of the long hot holidays, and with little option other than to sign up as a teacher at some miserable summer-school in Kent, where once again you will be ruthlessly exploited.

All over Europe - in Paris, Madrid, Prague and Athens - it is the same. In London the constant flow of foreign students provides work throughout the year - but who can survive on the �12,000-odd a year that TEFL teachers earn there? Indeed, since British graduates now leave university with debts that rule out dead-end jobs with microscopic salaries, English schools everywhere are finding it harder to attract staff.

Increasingly, they take on the dregs. If the work were in any way rewarding, the pay might be tolerable. But unlike a job in a proper school, there is no pastoral side involved in being a TEFL teacher, and no variety, no career structure, no sense of progression. You spend your day rushing from one lesson to another, endlessly drumming in the essentials and explaining the difference between, say, "I grovel" and "I am grovelling".

Sure, you dress it up a bit, you produce your own handouts, you try to have a bit of fun. But you are basically a busker playing the same tired old tunes. Even though most students are charming and receptive, it is an exhausting existence, a life of pure drudgery.

Nevertheless, you always have to be on form, ever the life-giver. And perhaps worst of all, you always end up using the omnipresent "Headway" textbooks, which make full obeisance to every modern piety, and whose pages are full of fatuous illustrations of wimpish little men in aprons doing the washing-up, while their briefcase-carrying womenfolk stride out of the front door to waiting limos.

So while teaching English is fine if you want to spend a year abroad, and great for meeting pretty foreign girls, considered as a career that might offer some degree of professional fulfilment, it fails on every count. No one with a scrap of ambition can possibly consider it. As the philosopher Alain de Botton says: "You become a TEFL teacher when your life has gone wrong."

The most objectionable aspect of this industry is not, however, the misery of those who work in it, but the posturing endemic to it. Typical of this is the pretence of professional credibility that surrounds the Mickey Mouse teaching certificate most teachers possess.

When, several years ago, I rang up International House in London and said I had a degree in French and Russian from Oxford and wanted to do their TEFL course, they sniffily told me that they might perhaps "consider" my application . . . later. The admissions tutor for the Harvard MBA programme could hardly have sounded grander; whereas all that was on offer was a passport to nowhere.

So I went to the Hammersmith & West London College, where I spent a month learning clownish "miming techniques" and making idiotic "flashcards" (silly bits of cardboard with little pictures on them). Comedy was never far off. Several people on the course were barely literate, and one of them was not even able to identify "I would of gone" as incorrect. As one of the coaches said to me: "I don't believe in half of this either. But just play the game, get your certificate, and then do what you want."

Every year, about 14,000 innocents pay �1,000-odd to spend four or five weeks acquiring a TEFL certificate from the two main examining boards that peddle them. I won't deny that I picked up the odd trick, but I wish I'd spared myself the hassle and sent off to Thailand for a fake certificate, as a friend of mine in Paris sensibly did.

Of equally questionable value are the language-teaching religions championed by the various "method schools", such as Super Rapid and Berlitz, where I once worked for two hilarious months. These are based on a narrow set of beliefs, zealously applied, about how English is learnt. In general, grammar and analysis are avoided, the methodology is highly formalised, and it is strictly verboten to address the students in their own language.

The result is classrooms whose normally bright occupants are comatose with boredom. In theory, there is a pedagogical justification for these methods, but they also happen to be highly convenient for the method schools, which are spared the expense of hiring bilingual teachers.

In my experience most language schools are miserable places, bucket shops whose owners shamelessly claim that the flotsam and jetsam they employ are highly-qualified, hand-picked professionals.

Indeed, many are not really schools at all, but employment agencies that send the workers on their books (freelance teachers) out to the premises of their clients (companies who have bought English courses) and take a whacking great commission (typically, about two-thirds of what the teacher is charged out at). As the "director of studies" of one such outfit once said to me: "If only you knew how much money we are making."

So the clients get fleeced and the teachers, cowed into submission, toe the line and nod eager assent when the boss talks of "standards" and "performance". Of course it's rubbish; but the charade keeps the proles in their place.

Some TEFL slaves have been so thoroughly defeated that they don't even realise what has happened to them. I can sniff out the "lifers" a mile off . . . scruffy figures, utterly out of synch with the modern world, any style or sex-appeal they once possessed squeezed out of them by years of drudgery, exploitation and poverty.

Pam, whom we met earlier, is constantly ringing home to cadge loans, which she can never repay. She subjects herself to the most squalid deprivations, regarding a meal in a pizzeria as a rare and extravagant luxury. Even though she lives in a prosperous western democracy, has a degree and works full-time, she has been so poor for so long that she doesn't think there's anything odd about her situation.

"No, I can't be bothered with all that shit," she said, in reference to pensions and mortgages and the future in general, last time she grabbed a coffee with me during a short break stolen from her hectic timetable.

After the age of 40, English teachers are burnt-out, skill-less and unemployable, their working lives a wasteland, their future oblivion. Suicide attempts are not unheard of. A former colleague of mine, a charming and talented but fatally lazy Scotsman who was well on his way to drinking himself to death, was recently found in a pool of blood, having tried to finish himself off by slashing his wrists.

"Our teachers are a pretty sad lot," said one informant right at the top of the TEFL teaching world, "and one or two are downright poisonous." According to the same source, the second-rate quality of the sector is harming Britain's reputation abroad. This view is echoed by James Stevenson, a London-based career counsellor and consultant psychologist: "I find it very distressing that foreigners wanting to learn English are exposed to the sort of people working in the teaching organisations."

Significantly, almost no writer who has worked in this industry - the list includes the writers Tim Parks, Matthew Kneale, Peter Robb and J K Rowling - has a good word to say about it. The definitive description of the TEFL bum's predicament is surely a passage at the beginning of Cara Massimina, a novel by Tim Parks in which Morris Duckworth, a young English teacher in Verona, is led to crime and, eventually, madness by his attempt to escape from the trap that his life has become:

No, it was awful. He was living from hand-to-mouth, from one day to the next, one month to another, week in week out. From the point of view of career, social advances, financial gain, the last two-and-a-half years had been completely wasted. More that that, they had left him physically exhausted and mentally addled by all these stupid lessons, besieged by boredom and mediocrity . . . He had reached the end of his tether . . . What was a language teacher in the end? A nobody. A mere failed somebody else.

Sad words, but all too true - and ones that should be inscribed above the entrance of every English language school.

[calsimsek]

MARK:

[tekirdag]

Dear Mr.Mark Loyd,

It seems very clear that you, more than any of us, hate hate HATE your job and the lifestyle attached.

Seriously, why don't you change your job? My best friend in Canada has decided, at 33, to give up the crap dead end jobs. She took out a loan and headed back to uni. Brave, what? 33 for crying out loud! A friend who's teaching esl in Korea is also doing open uni courses. He's plotting his escape. I am working towards a couple of certifications- corel graphics suite and adobe-(Nobody give a hard time, please. I'm working hard!) because I will not-hot-hot do esl when I get back to Canada.

I am not trying to crap on you, Mark Loyd. It's just a little friendly advice. You should really leave esl. You don't sound like a happy ESL camper.....

Best wishes,
Tekirdağ