Insert Foot in Mouth

I think all people have those moments directly after flapping their chops when they wish they would have ran the statement through a preview to see how it would sound out loud.  Then, after the statement has been said, we cringe, back-peddle, look wide eyed around you in anticipation of something pointing out the thing you just said.

Now, when you are a teacher, there are 30 people starring back at you ready to point out any mistake you make and/or laugh at you.  And of course, if you say anything at all inappropriate or that can be interpreted in a perverted way, you will never live it down.  Every slip of the tongue, Freudian or otherwise, comes back to bite you.

And, for teachers as well as every single living human being, once the thoughts have become words, there is no replay button, no do-overs, and no mute.

So, it was the first day with my new class.  This class is all international students who are in Canada to learn English, have an adventure, get away from something at home, or a combination of those things.

I haven't seen a class list for this class yet.  There are eight kids in it.  I am joking around with the group, who are from a variety of countries: China, Japan, Brazil, Mexico, Macao. We are getting to know each other as I am working on calming their nerves. They are all worried about fitting in, making friends, etc: you know, the usual things that teenagers worry about.  I couldn't imagine being as brave as these kids are: being 14-17 years old, leaving your support system (friends, family, school), and going to a new school where you don't speak the language.

We have another student; let's call her Sailor Moon.  Sailor Moon has made many Canadian friends, as well as dating may Canadian boys.  I have always joked with her that her English has improved by leaps and bounds because she speaks to these boys.

So, as I am talking to my new class, I joke, "You guys know the best way to improve your English?"

"How?" they chime in eagerly.

"Get a Canadian boyfriend," I deliver the punch line, and then expand to the student sitting furthest away, "Or, in your case, a Canadian girlfriend."

The student sitting furthest away responds, "But I am a girl."

"Wwwhaaaatttt?" I stammer before I can stop myself, barely holding in the following statement of "YOU ARE?" Instead, I continue with, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Later that day, I tell T-buck about what happened.  "Oh, sorry," he laughs. "I should have told you.  I asked her to see her passport in the summer so I could check for sure." You see, the only feminine aspect of the girl in questions is her name, which can be simply because the family accidently picked a name usually not applied to the gender when they recently selected English names.  But, no, not in this case.  She is actually a girl.