"An English Teacher," from Bye Bye Dignity

I used to think I would make a pretty good teacher.

Germany has discharged me of such delusions.

A few days ago, I visited a German Gymnasium¹ to speak with a couple of upper-level English classes. I was invited on behalf of the American Consulate, which recruits young ex-pats living in the region for precisely this purpose. Two teachers at a Gymnasium outside of Bonn invited me to lead discussions with their students. The faculty at the school were all warm and welcoming, and their hospitality was greatly appreciated. Likewise, my first class greeted me with courtesy and enthusiasm. My second class flayed me by inches, but we'll come to that in good time.

Had my visit been solely for the purpose of mingling with faculty, it would have been a perfect day. They don't get many Americans at high schools in Bonn, let alone New Yorkers/Californians², and the English teachers loved the chance to converse with a native speaker. Most of the faculty's English was spot-on, with only the occasional lapses such as pronouncing obscure words like "escapism" as ESS-cəp-izm.³ Perhaps most pleasantly surprising was my encounter with the school principal. She gave me a bottle of Mumm extra-dry champagne as a token of hospitality. In the classooms, I carried it in my attaché to avoid looking unprofessional. Had I known how the second class would go, I would have carried it in my liver.

The first class was warm and enthusiastic. Upon my entry into their classroom, they all stood and greeted me in unison: "Good morning, Mr. Gallagher." It sounded like nothing so much as the way we used to say hello to the principal at my elementary school as a child. My reaction, therefore, was a mixture of flattery, confusion and horror. Fortunately, the experience was uphill from there. Our discussion principally revolved around American school life. The kids were engaged and curious, and they worked hard to speak solely in English, especially their questions. Oh Lord, their questions. I give you my favorites, chosen because 1) they sparked the most discussion amongst classmates, and 2) I think these questions induced the most learning.

--"Why are there metal detectors in American schools?"

This led to a great discussion about what kind of environments German schools offer, and how they are different from American schools.

--"Does every American boy play (American) football?"

I made it clear to the young gentleman asking this question that not every American male had my obvious athletic prowess.

--"Do American teenagers smoke?"

Less than you do, which is why they all have perfect teeth in the movies.

--"Do American teenagers have house parties, as depicted in the movies?"

Okay, I don't think I was using the word "depiction" in 10th grade, and English is my first language.

And my favorite:

--"Do all Americans wear their belts inside-out?"

Erm... no. Just me... and just today.

It was a memorable experience. And as you can see, their teacher took photos.



The second class was not so successful, though that is at least partially my fault. I had overreaching expectations for our time together. Our topic was the American Dream, and since I was speaking with a senior-level group, I had hoped for a somewhat theoretical discussion about modern capitalist life.⁴ As it turned out, I spent almost the full hour pulling teeth, cajoling the kids' jaws open long enough to admit they even had dreams at all. With that accomplished, I managed to move the discussion towards the role of society in the pursuit of our dreams, but only for a tragically brief period.

As class concluded, I thought I would be ending my day at its nadir. But afterwards, two students approached me. They said they had loved my talk. They wanted to know about my exchange program, and what other opportunities they might have for study abroad. I offered to send their teacher more information, and they were obviously elated.

I have a few friends who are teachers. I often feel shock when I realize I have peers my age who teach. Now, I am equally amazed at the task they take on every day. It is one thing to educate the engaged. It's another to reach students, to get them excited about learning and improving themselves. It's not my strength, inspiring teenagers. The experience is quite a rush, though.

Not as much of a rush as that champagne, but close.

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¹Not, as you probably first thought, some sort of fitness facility, but rather the German term for a general-education high school. These schools used to be places where youth was forged into brave German industry in the fires of adversity. Thank God that's over. These young people no longer endure an opressive hierarchy... at least, no more so than at any other high school.

²Through trial and error, I've learned that if I'm struggling to engage Germans in conversation, I need only fall back on my own story: where I'm from or where I went to school. New York and Los Angeles are mythic for some Europeans, and the farther from a major city you go, the more entranced the locals become. By the time I'm in farmland, I get questions like "So, is Tom Hanks tall in real life?"

³I've been hearing this slip a lot lately. Since Americans are such expert escapists, perhaps Europeans think of American escapism as some sort of political theory. That might explain the misplaced emphasis, e.g. COMmunism, SOCialism, EScapism.

⁴If pedantry determined one's salary, I'd be a billionaire by now.

Law of the Land

Evidently, there is a secret to meeting beautiful women on a German university campus. Are you ready?

Take a law class.

Go ahead, read that sentence again. I'll wait.

I discovered this little tidbit of college lore a few weeks ago, near the end of my Sprachkurs at language school. My instructor took the class to the University of Cologne for an informational scavenger hunt, the type where rather than collecting particular objects, participants seek the answers to a list of questions. The purpose of this excursion was to begin inoculating us to university life, before our imminent plunge therein. One question asked, "In which academic departments can the best-looking students, male and female, be found?" I wondered what questions of this sort were supposed to prepare us for, but that's for another day.

Every student asked answered consistently that the most attractive men studied Sport¹ and women Jura, or law. Apparently, these are commonly accepted stereotypes in German higher education. Since I am not on the market, nor am I at a large university, the veracity of this claim is, for me, largely academic.² The results intrigued me, however, for what you will undoubtedly conclude is a far less interesting reason. I am considering becoming a lawyer, but something holds me back: I think America has too many lawyers already. I raise this topic because my observations of German legal education have given credence to my concerns.

Before we dive into that topic, a little background: ever since I read my first John Grisham novel at age ten,³ I have considered law as a potential career path. I took a number of courses on law and legal philosophy in college, and I also spent two summer internships in law offices. Since my arrival, I have also done some casual research into German legal practice. I have observed some differences between the day-to-day practice of American and German lawyers, but the more notable distinction is between American and German law students.

University structure undoubtedly plays a role in this difference. General education receives far less emphasis in German universities than it does in the States. German students enter university with both their major area of study and their terminal degree in mind. Thus, German law students do not have a four-year period to study something else prior to law; they study it immediately. This means the opportunity cost of studying law in Germany is much higher than in the United States. A student cannot decide to become a lawyer after four years of studying German literature without finding himself significantly behind his peers in the field. I suspect this diminishes the number of German students who find themselves studying law.

I use the phrase "find themselves" because I believe many American students in law school end up there almost by accident. In my personal experience, American students often have very vague notions regarding why they attend law school. I suspect the promises of high pay and a respected profession often play a large role in the decision. Additionally, I have often heard Americans talk about how a law student need not necessarily practice law after getting a law degree.

Leaving aside the accuracy of that claim, the very idea of studying law to do something else is pretty foreign to the German mindset. You study law to practice law. Law is not considered a stepping stone to other careers in Germany as it sometimes is in the States. For instance, I know many bright and ambitious Americans my age who are considering running for public office some day. Many of them think a law degree will boost their political career. Not so much in Germany. Here, most politicians rise out of the civil service. While a civil career is not a requisite for public office -- Chancellor Merkel's training, for instance, was as a physicist⁴ -- it is seen as the standard approach, much the way law is viewed by many in the States.

The comparison between German and American law students leads me to certain conclusions. There are more lawyers in America partially because Americans see law as a more versatile education than Germans do. Additionally, my observations here have reiterated a concern I have had for some time: legal education is creating a brain drain in the United States. Every year, thousands of bright, capable students who want meaningful, fulfilling careers choose to pursue law not because they want to practice law, or even because they find it interesting, but because of the structure of the educational system. Unsure of what to do after college, law school provides an answer to that difficult question, and the students are assured the answer they have chosen will be both rewarding and respected, and possibly financially lucrative.

I have heard similar concerns from some pretty reputable sources. Last year, Justice Antonin Scalia of the United States Supreme Court visited Claremont McKenna, and I had the honor of sitting at his table at a formal luncheon in his honor. Perhaps the most enlightening part of the afternoon was when he was asked, "What would you say to a young person today considering going to law school?" After pausing for a moment, Justice Scalia answered, "I think too many promising young minds are wasted on it."

I was astounded. Here was one of the sharpest legal minds in the country bemoaning his own profession. To my gratitude, Justice Scalia explained himself. Of course he considers the law a worthwhile pursuit, but it is his belief that the best law schools are drawing many of the best students of my generation away from pursuits where they could be put to better use. The best legal minds in the country should not be writing merger contracts for deals in major New York firms. There is nothing wrong with such work, but an overemphasis on it can be to society's detriment. In a sense, these career choices, societally speaking, are a zero-sum gain: every bright young person on Wall Street is one less medical researcher, one less government reformer, one less entrepreneur or composer. Put too many of them there, and these other fields suffer.

In light of all this, I look at the massive number of lawyers in America -- I have read some estimates that put the number at nearly 1 million in practice -- and I wonder whether my services, and those of my peers, could not be put to better use elsewhere. Of course, one million is just a number. Perhaps in our modern economy, that is how many lawyers are required. Besides, I still think law is a noble and worthwhile profession. But after considering the German perspective on a legal career, I want to make sure it's where I can do the most good.

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¹Yes, it turns out you can major in soccer at some German universities. Not sure what I think of this yet, or how it compares to the practice of lick-and-a-stamp degree conferrals at some of the Big 10. More on this later.

²Ba dum ching.

³What? It's not like I didn't watch Power Rangers, too.

⁴Props to Jeff of "The Ruling Zeitgeist" for fact-checking me on this one. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

Because It Is My Name

As I have said here before, I am not an official student at the Cologne Academy of Music. I am enrolled at the Center for International Arts Management, which is an institute for graduate study only. Since they do not permit students to register fully for only one semester -- and since I probably will not be taking final exams anyway -- I was forced to register as a Gasthörer, literally someone who has formal permission to visit the classroom. It might give some sense of scale if I use a completely unrelated analogy. The Gasthörer is to the German university classroom as an unnamed ensign is to the USS Enterprise. No one knows his name. No one cares to know his name. He has nothing to say, and the most valuable contribution he can make is to die on an away mission to highlight the seriousness of the situation.¹

My status as a Gasthörer has made a number of situations, ranging from administrative to social, somewhat awkward. New acquaintances never react well upon learning my registration status. Sometimes they suddenly seem uncomfortable in my presence, while others have actually made piteous "aww" noises. I have discovered the best reaction I can hope for in these exchanges is shock, as in, "I am shocked to hear that you are one of them."

Such was my experience while speaking to a student yesterday. Ralf, a local installation artist who is pursuing a master's at CIAM, met the news that I was a Gasthörer with a flattering degree of indignation. As many artists are wont to do, Ralf immediately sought to remedy this grave injustice. He assembled a number of other CIAM students whom I had not met, introduced me, then explained my plight² to the group.

They unanimously agreed that the term suited me poorly. Instead, my status would be better referred to as a stipendiatender Austauschstudent, or a "fellowship-holding exchange student." Despite the mild horror I always experience when hearing Germans concoct such serpentine phrases, I was intrigued. The group explained that, in general, German sentiment towards American exchange students is tolerant at best. The average American student in German classrooms is there for a semester abroad, often with little or no grasp of the language. Conversely, my little ad hoc counsel told me that American students who speak German are usually met as a pleasant surprise, particularly if they are intelligent enough to be in Germany on a scholarship.³ They were quick to add that this change of title was also not a deceit. Rather, the real fault lay with the administration for diluting my status.

My confidence bolstered by this conversation, I decided to try out my new title. After class, I headed to the little coffee bistro on the ground floor, and introduced myself to the first friendly face I saw. Upon hearing that I was not a lowly Gasthörer but a mighty stipendiatender Austauschstudent, the girl's eyes widened, and a shriek of glee escaped from her lips. She called her friends over, and they immediately began clamoring to introduce themselves, ask me questions, or just to touch the hem of my coat, even for an instant. The crowd around me quickly grew until I was forced to hastily retreat, lest I be arrested for causing a fire hazard.

...Or not. Though actually, I have discovered I am met with more warmth and curiosity than I was before. German culture makes a big to-do of titles and certificates, especially with regard to education, so I probably should have been less surprised. In any case, it feels good to have risen a little through the ranks. I also have a freshly minted and equally unrelated analogy for my new status: The stipendiatender Austauschstudent is to the German university as the comely alien woman is to the USS Enterprise. This character is only here for a short while, and her allure results from her exotic background and accompanying entertainment value. Kirk will probably sleep with her, but at least she's not getting eaten by a space lizard.

I can live with that.

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¹The German word for away mission is "Seminar."

²Ralf's word choice, not mine. Technically, he called my situation a Bedrängnis, which could also be translated as "affliction," but I thought that made for too weepy a translation. I am beleaguered by paper pushers, not tuberculosis.

³I decided to be discrete about CBYX's dubious status as a "scholarship," as they were all being so nice.