Being the children of Chinese immigrants, my sisters and I had to attend Saturday morning Cantonese classes. Just having to attend the classes were demotivating to us because we only went because we must do it. As children we hated it because it was extra schooling and most importantly we were missing on our favourite Saturday morning cartoons.
It was a single experience that turned me off Cantonese classes forever and that occurred when I was either in grade five or six of elementary school so I was about 10 or 11. For an assignment we were all assigned a passage from an old Chinese story that we had to practise with our parents and recite in front of the class the next week. I was quite a shy child back then so this was a terrifying prospect. To this day I’m still really bad at pronouncing things in my mother tongue but I was particularly bad back then.
During the week my mother and I practised the passage over and over again until I thought I had got it down enough so I wouldn’t be embarrassed. The next Saturday comes and after a couple of my classmates speak it was my turn. I stand up and nervously recite the passage. Once I finish the teacher decides to use me as an example and starts listing the things I pronounced wrong and other things. She finishes off with what translates to “remember the mistakes he made when you recite”, which were directed at all the students who hadn’t spoken yet.
When this happened I was completely mortified and embarrassed. I avoided speaking aloud in class and in subsequent classes I would skip class just to avoid having to recite things.
In retrospect I didn’t mind being criticized by the teacher since she did that with everyone. But the way she put it like I was some negative example to watch out for, that’s what demotivated me. If the teacher hadn’t done that and instead used it as a way to teach me the proper way of saying things or told me to speak with her privately afterwards instead of in front of the whole class, I think I wouldn’t have been so demotivated.