Benign paper tiger: 03 (The stronger students) (London)

One of the things the fearsome cardiology head's underlings said of him ("The promising students, you will tick off", in https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/paper-tiger-01-china.html) found resonance with me for how I'd treated (and still do) my stronger students. I'd challenge them more because they were (/are) good enough to stand up to it.

    (See also https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/benign-paper-tiger-02-weaker-students.html for how I'd treat weaker students.)

    Some of my efforts with the stronger students, however, didn't always get understood either (which I only discovered later).

    My teaching is delivered on a three-prong basis:

(i) exam-geared -- therefore must follow the brief and deliver whatever is being tested, be it grammar or vocab / usage of language;

(ii) classroom exercise -- I'd give them as many variations as they can take, because they might come across different versions in real life (different accents / usage of language by people from different parts of China, not to mention what I call "the other regions", i.e., Taiwan, Hong Kong, S.E.Asia, just to name three);

(iii) real life -- I'd teach them coping techniques, e.g., if they don't know the precise Chinese for a term X, try to put something together, even if it's long-winded. ("Silence = no communication / no message conveyed" is what I drill into them.)

    For the stronger students, therefore, and for what I call "the classroom exercise", if they were to give me the correct answer of X, I'd throw them as many alternatives as there might be for X (or as many as I can think of).

    This didn't go down well with one of them, however, but luckily she did come out and tell me about it -- only two years later, though. (It gave me a chance to clear my "wicked witch" label.)

    I'd taught her when she was in Year 2. I was a part-time teacher on the evening programme but given her (full time degree programme) class to teach for a translation module.

    She then went away for her Year Abroad, and I ran into her when she came back for her final year (Year 4).

    Being always around, working the longest hours though only a half-post / half-salary teacher (yes, stupid me), I saw her outside the Section Head's office across the corridor from mine, but the latter was not in. After she'd hung around for a while, I thought I'd say hello and help her kill some time, asking how her Year Abroad had been, etc.

    Then, for some reason, she blurted out, "You didn't like me when you were teaching my class [in Year 2]."

    Huh?!? How on earth had she got that impression? She'd been the best student in her class. (I know, I know, it doesn't logically / automatically follow that one should like the best student, because they could be obnoxious, e.g., arrogant or something.)

    She said, "Because every time I gave you a version in the translation exercise, you'd give me another rendition. I could never get it right, it seemed. You were never satisfied with my offering."

    Oh my goodness. Poor girl, carrying it around for the whole of Year 2, then the whole of the Year Abroad, thinking that this teacher didn't like her and kept picking on her. What a burden to be carrying around for so long, poor girl.

    I said, "Oh dear, poor you!" and explained the principle behind how I treat students of different ability levels.

    I added, "It was because you were the best in class that I always threw alternatives your way. You were good enough in your language ability to absorb the variations and alternatives. I wouldn't do that with a weaker student, because they won't be able to take it."

    The look on her face was amazing to witness, as the significance of my treatment of her translation efforts in Year 2 dawned on her.

    A look of gratified enlightenment came into her eyes as the new perspective was pointed out to her. It then spread to her mouth in the form of a smile of self-approbation, being told that she'd been treated differently because she was deemed capable of taking the extra load as she was the best student in the class.

    A bit after that conversation in the corridor, she asked me for help with her revision (I wasn't given hours to teach her class, so I had nothing to do with her assessments and exams). I teach a lot of the application of strategies and tricks, so my guidance gave her a good grounding for what I call "Guessology" (my coinage). It's a particularly useful skill for Chinese as it's so different from European languages.

    When she got a job after graduation in an organisation dealing with the Chinese market, she asked me to give her private tuition for her professional language needs.

    I was very relieved to have had the chance to clear my "wicked witch" image.

(London, 1990s)

Benign paper tiger: 02 (The weaker students) (London)

I found resonance with the "The unpromising students, you won't tick off" in the summary of the benign paper tiger head given by his favourite underling in https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/paper-tiger-01-china.html.

    It is the principle I've adhered to in my teaching -- with evening class students, and now private students.

    I'd give easier sentences to weaker students, partly so that it wouldn't show them up in public, partly to give them a sense of achievement (that they were actually able to translate a sentence).

    This didn't always work to plan, though.

    Some of the students were so weak that even those easier sentences were too difficult, resulting in an outburst that was totally the opposite effect of my original intention (to make them feel that they were not that bad after all).

    One of them (a bloke in a beginner class, evening programme) felt shown up and swore at me ("You stupid woman!", which made some of the students gasp). (This is absolutely the wrong attitude to take with the teacher in the Chinese cultural context, so he was not only wrong for the language, he was wrong on a broader scale for the whole experience. One doesn't just learn the language, it's the whole cultural package that comes with it.)

    Another (a full-time degree final year student) burst into tears when she couldn't translate the sentence I gave her, and stormed out of the classroom with, "You're always picking on me!" (I was a part-time teacher being given a translation slot for this final year class for that year only, so I'd played no part in their earlier years on the programme.)

    The third one (an evening programme student) said the same thing ("You're always picking on me!") but at least didn't walk out.

(London, 1980s / 1990s)

Benign paper tiger: 01 (China)

In the modern mainland Chinese drama series (aired 2022) that I'm watching at the moment, the head of cardiology is a fearsome man:  fearsome with his tongue, and fearsome with his temper.

    After a heated disagreement with a particular underling (whose father is an old friend of his) about a new medical project, he later told the underling that what he'd said in the argument was for his own good, adding that he was not to take it to heart being the most ticked off of the lot.

    The underling said:

    大家给你总结了：三个骂，三个不骂。心情好的时候骂，心情不好不骂，有出息的学生骂，没出息的学生不骂，当着内行的面骂，当着外行的面不骂。

    (Their English subs, my punctuation) Quote Everyone has summed up the three scenarios where you would and wouldn’t scold. You’ll scold when you’re in a good mood, and won’t scold if it’s otherwise. You’ll scold good students, and not the bad ones. You’ll scold in front of those in the same field, and not in front of outsiders. Unquote

    (My translation) Quote Everyone's summed you up: there're three situations when you'd tell us off; three when you won't.

    When you're in a good mood, you'll tell us off. When you're in a bad mood, you won't.

    The promising students, you will tick off. The unpromising students, you won't [tick off].

    You will reprimand students in front of those in the profession, but not in front of outsiders. Unquote

(China, 2022)

PS: The cultural use of 骂 mà makes it tricky to translate adequately into languages that don't behave the same way. It needs a bit of explanation, as it's used a lot, which I shall do in a different blog, as it can be long.

Choosing to share or not: 03 (A dollop of ice cream)

At the church dinner this week, there was actually some ice cream with the dessert.

    This church dinner, on Wednesdays, is for the homeless but everyone else is welcome. The homeless people then sleep in the church for the night while the rest of us go home.

    Dinner is a set offering every week:  a main course of roast chicken (with gravy), plain rice and boiled veg (usually peas, sometimes with a bit of broccoli).  The first course of lentil soup has been taken off, maybe because it's a winter dish?  The dessert has been apple crumble with custard in the last five months that I've been dining there (not every Wednesday), but last week, it was plum-and-berry crumble, no custard.  This week, a scoop of ice cream as well -- for the first time (in my experience anyway).

    The Somali woman next to me (in her 50s??) was delighted, I could see from her face, so when second helpings of crumble were dished out, I offered her my scoop of ice cream.

    She tried to decline, not wishing to appear to be greedy (especially since we'd only just met), which is very similar to the Chinese practice / upbringing.  I could tell, though, that it would make her very happy -- even though it was only a dollop.

    To get her to agree, and to assuage her feeling of appearing to be greedy and selfish, I said, "It gives me greater enjoyment to let you have my share of the ice cream than eating it myself."

    It convinced her.  She was very touched, and accepted it.

    Her enjoyment was my reward.  A small kindness goes a long way -- for both sides.

(London, 2026)

Choosing to share or not: 02 (A recipe)

A then-student (French, with her mother having half English blood) told me something very interesting at least two decades back.

    Her mother, when asked for the recipe of a dish that the guest(s) had found most delicious, would hand it over (as a handwritten copy in those days) -- but with some ingredient(s) missing, so that it wouldn't turn out to be the same flavour (or as tasty).

    Is this competitiveness on a cultural basis (i.e., is it a common French practice) or on a gender basis?

    Or just personal: my student's mother was just protecting her own interests (which is very wise practice -- not to be over-generous in sharing)?

    I know what reader Valerio will say: not on the first two counts -- too much of a generalisation!

Choosing to share or not: 01 (Helping the newcomer)

The mainland Chinese drama series (aired in 2022, probably set around that time) I'm watching at the moment has the female protagonist being picked by the new boss to be his PA (Personal Assistant) from being a cashier at the cake shop, which is much further down the chain of the company's businesses.

    The whole office (all female staff, bar one) is abuzz with bristling indignation at who she might be to have got promoted so spectacularly -- or, more importantly, what she might be to him.

    The boss tells her to get one of the office staff to show her the ropes.  When she asks a female colleague what she is/has to do specifically, the reply is:  

    "眼里有活儿就行 / (English subtitles) You just need to see where there's work to be done." 

    Other translations for the reply 眼里有活儿就行 are:

    (AI translation) Just be proactive / Just see what needs to be done

    (my translation) Just use your initiative

    Googling tells me the meaning behind the phrase is:

    一个很常用的职场和生活化用语，意思是：一个人有眼力见儿，能够主动发现需要做的工作，并主动去完成，不需要别人叮嘱或催促。

    (google translate) Quote A commonly used term in both the workplace and everyday life, meaning: a person is perceptive and can proactively identify tasks that need to be done and complete them without needing reminders or prompting from others. Unquote

    This reply by the female colleague is very obviously a form of stonewalling, out of professional and sexual jealousy.  (The new boss is young -- in his mid-/late-30s? -- and suave.)

    (From googling)  Quote. Stonewalling is a refusal to communicate, cooperate, or engage in a discussion, often acting as a "stone wall" to block interaction. It involves shutting down, avoiding, or evading questions, commonly seen in relationships (as a form of the silent treatment) or politics to avoid scrutiny.  Unquote

    This reminds me of when I was about to leave Singapore for London, back in 1977, and the new secretary was brought in a week early to overlap with me, so that I could show her the ropes.

    I went over all the usual work duties and tasks:  the filing, sending out telexes, the technical lingo (this was an American company, WKM Valves, supplying mainly, but not only, to the oil and gas industry), etc.

    I taught her behind-the-scenes tricks as well, which was outside my remit, e.g., how to correct typing mistakes in a telex tape (which looks fiendish, if not well nigh impossible, but is easy once you know the trick) instead of starting afresh, which would thus save her a lot of time and stress, not to mention earning a poor work reputation.  It was something I'd learned during my three months as telex operator for Conoco Singapore before I got my Private Secretary's Certificate exam results from the London Chamber of Commerce and started working as a legal secretary for law partnership Boey, Ng and Wan.

    Work-related issues aside, I also showed her where to go for lunch:  a hawker centre nearby but tucked away, not visible from our office block by the main road.

    For those who don't know Singapore:  the hot and humid climate means that it's physically sapping to walk even 10 yards, so knowing exactly where to go is useful, as it saves one having to find places by trial and error.  She was grateful for this reason.

    I also gave her a phone number for ordering lunch to be delivered to the office, for a small charge.  In those early days (1977), there was no internet to help one search.  Food delivery service was also not common, in my experience, if it existed at all.  One either knew (e.g., through the man actually coming round to advertise or drop off their contact details, say, a name card), or one didn't.  Singaporeans were not in the habit of making sandwiches for a lunch box -- not as tasty as a local-cuisine meal.  So, knowing where to go for cheap and delicious local food, never mind within walking distance as well, was a knowledge gem.

    My replacement (in her late 20s or early 30s) said to me, "I've worked at a number of places.  You're the first person to share all your knowledge with me, unstintingly, even beyond your professional remit.  People have always been reluctant to help, or at least not been as generous."

    My reply, 

    "The way I see it is:  we're not in competition.  I've already established my reputation with the bosses here -- they offered me the post after my first day as a temp.  I don't see what there is to feel threatened by.

    "Even in competition, one doesn't have to climb up by pushing other people down.  One uses one's own abilities to go up, without having to shine a negative light on other people.

    "If you're capable, the boss(es) will see it, without having to compare you with other people.

    "It is also in my upbringing and in my nature to be as helpful to people as possible."

(China / Singapore)

Instinctive reaction from upbringing: 04 (Sharing food and drink)

On the Florence to Rome train in September 1981, I sat next to a dour Italian peasant woman who very kindly gave me her second salami roll (which later struck me might've been her dinner for the second leg of her Florence–Naples journey).  A touching encounter (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2011/07/firenze-roma-train.html), which turned into a guardian-angel story (https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2026/05/the-guardian-angels-in-ones-life-15.html).

    She also tried to share her already-opened can of cola with me after the salami roll lunch, although she did wipe the opening with a tissue first before offering it to me.  I was politely adamant about not taking up her kind offer.

    My upbringing also drew the line at taking a bite out of a half-eaten apple offered to me by a good friend, even though we had, by then (in the 90s), known each other for around a decade and I love him dearly.

    My W.Australia-based nephew and his wife (from Malaysia) spent a few days in London after their tour of Europe.  Out on the bus one day, he drank from his bottle of water with the mouth of the bottle an inch or so above his lips.

    This seems to be quite a common, though not universal, practice among Chinese people that I've observed on a number of occasions.  It is so that they can share the water with other people.  A good habit, I must say.