And their off....

And so the new term begins. From last Monday classes have commenced and like a punch drunk, prize-weight fighter I have rumbled back in to the classroom to restore honour and glory to the battered world of ELT.

With the first years fear is the key. I come across as a Irish version of Gunnery Sergeant O'Hartman from Full Metal Jacket, telling, nay, yelling at my new recruits "THIS IS A GODDAMN ENGLISH CLASS AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR ANY OF THAT NIHONGO BULLSHIT FROM ANY OF YOU BROWN-EYED RICE MUNCHERS! NOW, DECLINE THE VERB 'TO BE' AS IN 'MY BOOT TO BE UP YOUR ASS IF YOU DON'T DO AS I GODDAMN SAY'! GODDAMN"!!

With the third years its all world weary cynicism; these guys are vets, they've already pulled two tours of duty in the university and yelling at them isn't going to get you anywhere. So instead I double up the cynicism and add sarcasm to the ante. So initial contact tends to be during roll call:

"Satoshi Sashimi?"

"Here"

"You think, huh? Not to me you ain't"

"Eh?"

"I don't like what that implies. Consider yourself failed".

Finally, I have the post graduates. They tend to be eager enough so I generally leave them alone but every once in a while I toss out a 'Today would be a good day to die' just to make sure they don't get too complacent.