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TEACHER OR LECTURER?
A Reflection on What It Really Means to Teach

“Teaching starts with a relationship. Until then, you are just a dancing monkey standing
in front of your students performing tricks.”
~ Andrew Johnson~
I. The Question Worth Asking
Not everyone who stands in front of a classroom truly teaches.
Some deliver content. Others shape minds. The titles may be identical — Teacher, Instructor, Professor — but the intentions, mindsets, and commitments behind them often are not. And this gap, quiet as it sometimes is, makes all the difference in the world to the students sitting in those chairs.
This raises an uncomfortable yet necessary question — not to accuse, but to reflect:
Are you a teacher? Or are you merely a lecturer?
These are not the same thing. A lecturer delivers content; a teacher transforms it into learning. A lecturer measures success by how much material was covered; a teacher measures it by how much understanding was actually built. Lecturers speak to students; teachers listen to them. A lecturer is satisfied when the lesson ends on time; a teacher is troubled by what remains unclear after the bell rings.
All teachers lecture at times — that is unavoidable. But not all who lecture truly teach. The distinction lies not in the method but in the mindset: Does this person see their role as the transmission of information, or as the cultivation of human potential?
II. How Teachers Differ From One Another
Even among those who genuinely intend to teach, no two practitioners approach the profession in exactly the same way.
Like fingerprints, their mindsets, tendencies, and personal philosophies are unlikely to be identical. Given the same course syllabus, we cannot expect any two teachers to design the same lesson plans or implement the same strategies. Some approach each class with meticulous preparation; others improvise; and some — regrettably — do not plan at all.
Work attitudes vary just as widely. There are teachers acutely conscious of the hours stipulated in their contracts, unwilling to extend themselves beyond what is formally required. There are others who go far beyond — who assist students outside teaching hours, volunteer for tasks no one asked them to do, and give freely of their time and energy without expectation of compensation.
And then there are those who arrive late, leave early, and submit required paperwork only when pressed — or not at all. If you are a teacher reading this, the question is not which group others belong to, but which group you honestly belong to yourself.
No one can force a teacher into the second group. But every teacher owes it to their students — and to themselves — to stay as far as possible from the third.
There are also teachers who are perpetual fault-finders — those who can always identify what is wrong with a policy, a colleague, or an administrator, but rarely what might be improved. When they find fault, they whine about it or gossip about it, or both. This habit does not make them critical thinkers. It makes them corrosive presences in a community that depends on trust and collaboration.
III. How Teachers Treat Their Students
Perhaps no difference among teachers is more consequential than the way they treat the people in their care.
Some set standards so exacting that only the strongest students can meet them, leaving the rest behind without apology. Others calibrate their expectations thoughtfully — maintaining rigor while ensuring that even the slowest learner has a genuine pathway to success. Some believe in a one-size-fits-all approach, as though all students arrive at learning in the same way, at the same pace, with the same needs. Others recognize that students differ profoundly in learning styles, abilities, languages, and personal histories — and they differentiate their methods accordingly.
Numerous studies confirm what students have always known intuitively: among the most valued qualities in an effective teacher are the ability to build genuine relationships, and a patient, caring, and kind personality. These are not soft virtues. They are the foundation on which all learning is built.
What causes some teachers to treat students with indifference or harshness? Sometimes the answer lies in upbringing or in the treatment they themselves received as students — a sad inheritance, passed unconsciously from one generation to the next. Sometimes it is simply burnout. Exhaustion does not excuse poor teaching, but it does help explain why some teachers gradually lose the fire they once had. Compassion, it turns out, is not inexhaustible. It must be renewed.
IV. The Heart of the Matter: Passion and Compassion
At its deepest level, the difference among teachers may be reduced to two qualities — and what each teacher does or does not possess of them.
There are teachers who possess both passion and compassion.
There are teachers who have only one of the two.
There are teachers who have neither.
Passion is what drives a teacher to prepare thoroughly, to stay current in their field, to search for better methods even when existing ones are adequate. It is the restlessness of someone who genuinely believes that this lesson, this class, this student deserves their best effort.
Compassion is what keeps that passion human. It is what reminds a teacher that behind every exam score is a person — with pressures, fears, histories, and hopes that the classroom did not create and cannot simply ignore.
Without passion, teaching becomes mechanical. Without compassion, it becomes cold. Without both, it becomes something that should not be called teaching at all.
If you are a teacher reading this — and if, in honest reflection, you find yourself in the third category — it may be time to ask whether you are in the right profession. That is not an accusation. It is an invitation to reconsider, before another generation of students pays the price for a choice that was never truly theirs to make.
V. The Question of Training — and Its Limits
One of the gravest mistakes an institution can make is hiring someone with no pedagogical training to teach.
Knowledge of a subject is not the same as the ability to teach it. Being a mathematics wizard does not automatically make one a mathematics teacher. Having perfect pronunciation and impeccable grammar does not make one an English teacher. Teaching requires something beyond subject mastery — it requires the ability to make that mastery accessible, to motivate learners who do not yet share it, to design assessments that genuinely measure growth, and to adjust strategies when understanding has not yet arrived.
To be fair, there are rare individuals who compensate for the absence of formal training through humility, mentorship, and a genuine hunger to learn the craft. But these are exceptions, not the rule. And relying on exceptions as a hiring strategy is a gamble made at students’ expense.
Yet perhaps the more troubling question is not about the untrained. It is this:
Why are there teachers who were trained to teach, yet behave as though they were not?
Teachers’ conduct is shaped by the educational philosophy they develop through their training — an evolving framework built from theory, practice, experience, and the personal belief systems they carry into the classroom. That philosophy, whether articulated or not, is visible in every decision a teacher makes: how they speak to students, how they respond to failure, how they handle disagreement, how they use — or misuse — the authority their position grants them.
When teachers act or speak in ways that diminish students, ignore professional codes, or prioritize personal comfort over student welfare, they are not simply having a bad day. They are revealing what they truly believe about teaching — and about the people they were hired to serve.
Common sense, even in the absence of formal training, should be enough to remind any adult in a position of influence: words carry weight. Actions leave marks. Students remember — sometimes for a lifetime — how their teachers made them feel.
VI. A Calling, Not a Paycheck
Teaching is not a neutral act.
Every teacher who enters a classroom makes a choice — consciously or not — about what kind of presence they will be. They can be a source of clarity or confusion, of encouragement or discouragement, of possibility or limitation. They can be the reason a student discovers a love of learning, or the reason that love dies quietly before it ever had a chance to grow.
The difference between a teacher and a lecturer is not merely technical. It is ethical. It is a question of whether one has accepted not just the job title, but the responsibility that comes with it — the responsibility to know your students, to adjust your methods, to take ownership of whether learning is actually happening, and to care about the answer.
A lecturer fills the time. A teacher uses it. A lecturer covers the syllabus. A teacher uncovers the student.
Not every teacher will be extraordinary. Not every lesson will ignite a passion. But every teacher can choose, on any given day, to be present — truly present — for the people who have been entrusted to their care.
That choice is available every single morning. It costs nothing except the willingness to make it.
That is — if they care.
If teaching is still a calling, and not merely a paycheck.
★ ★ ★
— M.A.D. Ligaya, PhD
A Note From My Students
Today, it’s Teachers’ Day here in South Korea. What could be more exhilarating than at the beginning of the class, students would hand you an expression of their appreciation for the things that you do as a teacher. I knew that at that moment, I must stop teaching and read the note. I was teary but bowed my head low so my students wouldn’t notice it. I don’t know if I succeeded in hiding from them that their gesture moved me. Those were not just tears of joy but triumph. I feel triumphant, for I could see from what they have written how my goals of establishing a good rapport with my students and making learning fun have panned out.
They call me 할아버지 [ha-ra-beo-ji], grandpa in English, because during the first day of class, when they saw the PhD at the end of my name, one of them asked how they should address me – Doctor Tony, professor Tony, or what. I told them I don’t like to be addressed as a doctor or professor, and Tony Harabeoji is better. They laughed that time, but I told them I was serious. They can call me either Tony or Tony harabeoji. When I said the same thing, one of my students in another class said, “What about oppa Tony?”. I said, “No.. I prefer Tony harabeoji.”
After the class, I reread the note. I reflected on what my students said. I have been an EFL/ESL teacher long enough to understand that there are realities in language learning that are inevitable. It is impractical to set very high expectations when your students in a class belong to different language proficiency levels and come from diverse language learning backgrounds. As a teacher, I always do my best to help students learn in a way that will not make them averse to learning. But in the end, if students are having a bad day and no matter what I do, I wouldn’t be able to make them understand a language lesson, then at least they have fun while attending my class. Making them smile despite their frustration of not being able to grasp the lessons I am teaching and convincing them to try harder next time is a victory. After all, staying motivated to learn despite failure indicates that they learned something more important than language lessons.
“Please Teach Me English!” (2)
(Second of Three Parts)
I’ve realized that getting into K-pop and K-drama has been beneficial for me. It has provided me with valuable insights into the nature and culture of my Korean students even before I taught my first class in their country. Watching the movie “Please Teach Me English” has also been helpful.
The Young-jus and Jang-hyuks
The students in the movie are not regular enrollees in basic education institutions or universities. They are professionals enrolled in what looks like a hagwon (or it could be an adult education center of a university). In reality, classes in hagwons could be a mixture of students and working people.
Through the characters in the romantic-comedy film, I learned in advance about the different types of Korean students and their reasons for learning the language. The students in the movie had to choose English names, like Candy for Young-ju and Elvis for Jang-hyuk. Other students in Catherine’s class had English names like Betty, Julie, Tyson, and Richard, but their real Korean names were not revealed in the movie. I followed Catherine’s example in my classes. I also had my students adopt English names. Most embraced the idea, but some, like Young-ju, were hesitant. When I asked them to adopt an English name in one of my classes, a student suggested I should also have a Korean name. That student named me Hyeong. When I asked why he chose that name for me, he said the word means “big brother” in English, and that’s how he considered me.
The film emphasizes the reasons why Korean students take English classes. Young-ju was chosen to take the class because the head of the government office where she works made it mandatory. Someone in their office must learn English to effectively deal with foreigners.
Around the time the movie was released, the Korean government began to acknowledge the growing interconnectedness of global economies and cultures. South Koreans are actively engaged in international trade, exporting products as well as pop culture, entertainment, music, TV dramas, and movies. They recognize that success in business and international relations relies on establishing connections with the outside world, which necessitates the ability to communicate in English.
Language experts have identified two types of motivation for learning a language: instrumental and integrative. As contextualized in the movie, instrumental motivation is learning for practical reasons, while integrative motivation is learning to connect with others.
Those who are instrumentally motivated to learn a language, like Young-ju, do so to obtain essential qualifications and to improve career prospects. On the other hand, Jang-hyuk is integratively motivated to learn English. He wants to learn the language because his long-lost English-speaking sister, who cannot speak Korean, is visiting South Korea to meet him and their mother. His intention is to be able to “socialize” with somebody who does not speak his native tongue.
Many of my Korean students, like Young-ju, are instrumentally motivated. They aim to obtain the required scores for their English course or to meet specific academic or job requirements rather than to effectively communicate and engage with people from different cultures who speak a different language.
Like Young-ju, Richard is instrumentally motivated. His new boss is a foreigner who conducts his meetings in English. Thus, he must learn the language, even if it’s difficult given his old age. Julie’s reason is akin to Jang-hyuk’s. She is going to migrate to the US soon. The film does not have enough information to help determine Betty and Tyson’s motivation for taking the language course. But Betty seems to enjoy attending English classes, for where Catherine teaches is already her nineteenth school.
The movie also reveals specific characteristics of Korean learners when it comes to language learning. There was one instance when Julie and Betty disagreed with Catherine’s teaching style. They demanded that their teacher do away with preliminary activities or introductions and focus on the primary language skills they wanted to acquire. It is hard to determine if this indicates their impatience or desire to learn only the primary language skills they signed up for. This incident may be unfortunate, as it goes against a trait Koreans are known for – respect for elders and persons in authority. However, it reminds me of what every teacher must bear in mind – that students have expectations that must be met.
What The Students Expect
Before embarking on my journey as an English teacher in South Korea, I read a lot about the country’s culture and people. As an English teacher who would soon teach Korean students, I felt it incumbent upon me to study their culture because of some cultural nuances that may affect or influence my communication with them.
I have watched several K-dramas such as Jewel in the Palace, Stairway to Heaven, Lovers in Paris, Winter Sonata, and Baker King. These shows have taught me a great deal about the people of South Korea. The movie “Please Teach Me English” also gave me insights into Korean students. Furthermore, our TESOL supervisor shared tips on effectively working with ESL/EFL students.
It’s not enough to be guided by the apparent truth that students want to learn and expect their teachers to guide them in their learning journey. Yes, I had been a teacher in the Philippines for over two decades before I came to South Korea. However, students in those countries are of a different breed of learners.
The information the film provided about the characteristics of Korean learners is obviously not enough. So, as I taught during the first weeks of my classes, I took the opportunity to observe my students and determine their tendencies and habits, strengths, and weaknesses.
Korean students have a strong foundation in grammar. They pay more attention to the discussion of grammar points than other topics. They expect their teachers to give them grammatical rules, structures, and many grammar exercises. They tend to understand what they are being taught when presented to them in structural form. This group of learners pays close attention to details and can quickly determine grammar and spelling mistakes. However, they struggle with spoken fluency. As much as they prioritize grammatical accuracy, their speaking proficiency was paid less attention. This makes them feel less confident (or unconfident) in speaking English. My students are aware of this and want me to help them develop confidence in speaking.
Considering that they are from a technologically advanced country, Korean students are highly skilled in using digital tools and accessing online resources for learning. Being so, they expect their teachers to incorporate technology in the classroom; without it, they tend to lose interest. Therefore, I have had to adapt and stay current with the latest educational technologies. For instance, I have transitioned to using Google Forms for assessments instead of traditional paper-based exams. Additionally, I have set up individual Google folders for each student to submit their assignments and other requirements. My presentations need to be visually stimulating as well.
Many of them are highly motivated to excel in English because, as mentioned earlier, they understand its significance in business and international relations. As a result, they persist in their efforts to learn the language and expect to succeed at any cost. Their desire to learn the language sometimes borders on desperation. This is illustrated in a scene in the movie where Young-ju (and another character on a bus) is seen chewing and swallowing pages of a dictionary. It is hard to determine whether that is just a symbolic illustration of their fervent desire to learn the language or if it happened.
I found out that it is true that Korean students, like the rest of their compatriots, demonstrate politeness and respect. In the movie, it may have seemed that Betty and Julie were not polite when arguing with their English teacher. However, Catherine was at fault for repeatedly committing a faux pas by forgetting to include politeness when she talked to her students in Korean. Yes, Catherine is the teacher, but most of her students are adults, and some are even older than she is. This part of the movie may remind foreign teachers that cultural norms regarding social etiquette and English-speaking cultures’ formality levels are different from theirs. Tyson, the most sensible among Catherine’s students, tried to find a way to point this out to their teacher nicely. He advised Catherine to include honorifics if she insists on using Korean when talking to them.
Catherine followed Tyson’s advice. She started including honorifics whenever she used the Korean language, much to the delight of her students. What she did improved communication between her and the students. Their rapport resulted in Catherine enjoying teaching and the students having fun learning.
Establishing A Good Rapport
The film “Please Teach Me English” underscored the importance of rapport. Establishing a harmonious relationship with students is essential in Korean ESL/EFL classrooms. Creating a good rapport between me and my students is something I learned as a teacher a long time ago. I have also read many studies that found that students tend to perform better academically when their teachers establish a good rapport with them. It is one of the foundations of effective learning in any subject area, including English.
I always prioritize building a positive relationship with my students regardless of where I teach. As a foreigner in South Korea, this can be more challenging, so I make a conscious effort to earn the trust of my Korean students. I take special care in planning the class orientation to establish a strong partnership with my students. It’s not just a simple introduction to the course but a foundation for a constructive relationship.
In addition to introducing myself and going over the course content and requirements, I need to establish a good rapport with my students, clarify any misconceptions about the classroom and the teacher, debunk any myths about ESL/EFL teaching, and deliver an encouraging speech to motivate them for the upcoming semester. Together, these elements constitute the script I use religiously when meeting my classes for the first time in a semester.
During the initial meeting, my goal would be to achieve one of the most challenging educational tasks: to change the students’ perception of the classroom as a prison cell, with them as inmates and the teachers as harsh prison guards. Traditionally, Korean students hold a high level of respect for teachers, often seeing them as authoritative figures in the classroom. While this is good for maintaining order and discipline in the class, it can have adverse effects as it affects the development of critical thinking and creativity. My students are reluctant to ask questions, thinking that doing so is disrespectful. Rarely did they participate in discussions, even if they knew the answer to my questions. They would not volunteer to answer, so I had to call on them.
Students deferring too much to their teachers kills their creativity and makes instruction teacher-centered instead of student-centered, which reduces their engagement and motivation. They become overly dependent on their teachers.
I ensured the students felt comfortable in my presence at our first meeting. I emphasized that I am not a “sage on the stage” but rather a “guide on the side,” always ready to assist them. I encouraged them to ask questions, seek clarification, and actively participate in discussions.
Like Catherine, the teacher in the movie, I consciously try to build a positive connection with my Korean students. The first day of class is the perfect opportunity to establish this connection, especially as an expat teacher working with students for whom English is a second or foreign language. Through my research, I discovered that students’ speaking ability is influenced by their attitude towards foreign English teachers. This reinforced my belief that students are more motivated to learn when they perceive their teachers as approachable, friendly, and caring. It solidified my determination to deliver course content and prioritize building a rapport with my students. Just like a farmer must prepare the soil before planting seeds, I understand that gaining the trust and confidence of my students is crucial. Teaching students without establishing a positive relationship with them is akin to sowing seeds on unprepared soil.
Like Catherine, ESL/EFL teachers need to be adaptable and open-minded. When she followed Tyson’s advice to behave and speak in a way acceptable to Koreans, her students began to enjoy her class and became more engaged and interactive. This illustrates that foreign teachers, like myself, must consider cultural nuances when interacting with Korean students. We must learn quickly and try to understand their specific communication styles and social norms.
The whole semester is a marathon, and I believe that by first winning my students’ hearts, our journey together in language learning will be as enjoyable and productive as possible. Gaining their trust means that half of the battle is already won.
Establishing rapport with my students is more complicated due to our cultural barrier. Before I can start teaching, I need to put in more effort than my local counterparts. The cultural barrier immediately arose when I entered the classroom during our first meeting. This barrier makes the students anxious, as they don’t know what to expect from me as their English teacher from a foreign land. The student’s level of English proficiency could add to their anxiety. The lower their language ability, the more uncomfortable they would feel dealing with me. Therefore, I must set the right tone during my class orientation, ensuring my students feel comfortable and confident when interacting with me. Achieving this depends on how I present myself to them the first time we meet. Thus, I must make a good account of myself.
I always strive to make the first day of class memorable wherever I teach, and that’s no different here in South Korea. But here, I have added a new task to my routine during class orientations – to destroy a fallacy, which I will explain in the next section. The rest of my introduction is the same as usual; I present the course contents and requirements. The only difference is that I incorporate humor into my presentation. Those who know me say I have a strong sense of humor and a knack for making people laugh. I use humor as a tool in my teaching because I know it effectively captures students’ attention and makes the learning experience more enjoyable.
I create a relaxed and enjoyable atmosphere when introducing myself to my students during our first meeting. As I previously mentioned, one of my immediate objectives as a teacher is to help the students not feel that the classroom is a prison cell and I am a jail guard. Thus, I would never miss presenting and explaining my educational philosophy to them – “The classroom is my playground. The students are my playmates, and the subject I teach is our toy.” I know it’s unconventional, but I find it to be practical. My students here in South Korea seem to enjoy this approach to teaching as much as my students in the Philippines do.
My self-introduction would always include telling my students the nickname I adopted to elicit laughter whenever I deliver a talk. It’s Tony-Tony-Bo-Bony- Banana-Fanna-Fo-Fony-Fee-Fi-Mo-Mony-Tony. Yes, that’s taken from the song “Name Game” by Laura Branigan. I say that with the exact tune from the song – twice, sometimes thrice. Some students would smile. A few would laugh. I am not sure if that is because of the way I introduce myself or the way I sing.
It is incredible how when I tell my students my long nickname and jokingly threaten them to memorize it, or they will fail in my subject, they try very hard to repeat it after me. If they can’t say it, they laugh at themselves. I always add, “Whoever can say my nickname correctly will get an A+.” Of course, I don’t mean it. Luckily, no one has succeeded in saying it correctly so far. It’s always me who succeeds – in getting their attention.
When I have their attention, that’s the time I would try to debunk a myth.
GRADING GRADES
We label students as pesky when they keep pestering us with questions about their scores in quizzes and exercises. We find them annoying when near the end of a semester or shortly after final exams they send emails or call to inquire about their grades.
We say they are desperate when after knowing their grades they move heaven and earth to make us reconsider it and give them higher marks citing 101 reasons we need to do so, some of which are valid, some pure antics.
There are times when some teachers drop the correction fluid unto the grades they have given because they get moved either by the appeal of the students or by pressure from upstairs.
We often criticize students for being so grade-conscious.
But is it their fault?
NO!
Students are grade-conscious not because they want to but standards of society force them to be. The policies and procedures in the academe framed that kind of mind-set in the consciousness of students. They are seemingly programmed to become grade-conscious.
It all begins at home. Parents keep reminding their children to study hard and get good grades. When the children get to school, the indoctrination goes full steam. Teachers give a battery of tests and exercises telling the students to perform well if they want to pass the subject. And that if they want to be part of the honor roll then they need to have high scores.
Parents tell students to study hard, the teachers tell them to study harder. Day and night students are told that they must get good grades. After school, parents would even acquire the services of a tutor to further improve the academic performance of their children.
That’s how the “getting-good-grades-is-a-must” mentality gets ingrained in the consciousness of the poor little kids.
Companies and corporations deliver the coup de grace by frequently advertising that they hire only the best and brightest. And what’s the tangible measurement of these superlatives (best and brightest)? GRADES…A+, or 1 or 5 or what-have-you.
Society have assigned GRADES as proof of excellence. Academic performance of students is measured through their grades. The higher the grades the more excellent is the student. That’s how it goes.
RESULT? The students become grade-conscious. The grades they receive is a microscope and they are the specimen in the slide. Their academic marks are like scalpels used to dissect the contents of the shell between their ears.
The parents want them to work hard for their grades. Yes, perhaps for the children’s sake but the grades they receive is an instrument used by the parents in monitoring their investment. They want to make sure that
their children are not wasting the money they are spending for their education.
Parents become so mad when their children present to them unsatisfactory academic marks. And of course, when their children perform well academically, they are elated no end. It is a boost to their pride, a feather in their caps.
The schools in any country stretch their students to the limits of academic achievement because when students pass standardized examinations given by their governments it redounds to their benefit. It’s good for ranking and accreditation purposes. It’s a boost to their reputation. It’s good for marketing.
The parents and the teachers keep telling the kids that good grades is a prerequisite to success, the only way to get a good job. Thus the students think that the purpose of education is purely economic, to prepare them for a job. And if they fail to get good marks their future is doomed. They will not succeed.
This is the way the students are brainwashed into getting the highest marks possible. This is what developed among students a tunnel vision about education, that it’s all about getting good grades in order to be among the best and the brightest to who the big companies and corporations would give a chance to get a high-paying job.
The grades have seemingly become a curse. The grades take joy off learning. They make students prisoners in the classrooms and the teachers the unforgiving and unrelenting prison guards.
The grades put blinders on the students preventing them from seeing the bigger picture, that education is more than getting good grades and that the purpose of education goes beyond getting a job.
It’s sad that both the parents and the educators themselves are the ones putting the blinders on the students. They are the ones who put enormous pressure on the students to get good grades.
There’s nothing wrong if we help students to excel and to get the highest marks possible but we must not forget to tell them at the same time that grades are not the be-all and end-all of schooling. The students need to be told that the world doesn’t end if they don’t receive A+.
Schools must not forget that they exist to prepare the students, not only to find a job after graduation, but to live life and be a productive member of society and humanity.



