VIPKID A (maybe a little biased) Complete Review from a Career Skeptic

I began my journey with VIPKid in June of 2017. So… like… a few months ago. Based on that date, it looks like I would be anything but an expert. So here I am, not claiming to an expert.. but having a minute to type up a transparent and honest review of what I’ve experienced so far. I'm a career skeptic. I'm hesitant of anything that appears to be too good to be true so if you've got any reservations, trust me, they've crossed my mind in twelve different forms already. I didn't believe in this company and spent my entire hiring process with my guard up wondering when the other shoe would drop. If you are wondering if you can trust me to be completely transparent, I’m eating pickles and M&M’s for lunch and sipping on a cold cup of coffee while I type this. I’ve got no shame here.  

This is kind of one of those jobs that once you pick it up, it’s like riding a bike. Except, unlike accidentally pretending to pedal and steer in public, I find myself using exaggerated hand motions to strangers at the grocery store and smiling way too big over my own children completing average tasks. You see? Once you become a VIPKID teacher, it becomes who you are. In a beautiful and raw kind of way.

On top of this part-time gig, I am also a full time elementary school teacher so I can only speak from that perspective. I’ll gladly share the ins and outs for those of you possibly considering it or for those of you that are bored on a Saturday afternoon and looking to read something only slightly interesting.

The Unexciting Details

WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE: It’s a total English-Immersion program which means you do not need to know any Chinese. Not even “Hello”.  Classes are completely one and one and are taught through a Skype-type platform. You meet each student in a different classroom. The sessions are 25 minutes long and you are expected to type semi-detailed feedback to the parents about the new vocabulary they learned, what they did well and what to practice. The class plus feedback equals 30 minutes per class.

The Good: The classes move quickly! Before you know it, you’ve got 4 classes done and 2 hours have passed. The lessons are completely designed by VIPkid’s curriculum team in a powerpoint format. You simply review the lesson before the class to see what props you may want and become familiar with the lesson. NO LESSON PLANNING REQUIRED.

The Bad: Classes move quickly. Some lessons have a lot of material to cover. Some lessons don’t seem to have enough material. Some of the kids may struggle and some of the kids may get it super fast. Twenty-five minutes flies by. 😊

WHAT DOES IT PAY:

The Good:

I get this question a lot! In terms of part-time jobs, this is a no-brainer. You work from home when your babies are asleep. There is a range of pay so I can only speak for myself but I hear the range only shifts by a dollar or 2 per hour. I personally make $8 per class which equals $16 per hour. BUT WAIT! If I open my classroom camera right when class starts, I get an extra dollar. EASY! If I do it two classes in a row, it makes $18 per hour. BUT WAIT! If I teach 30 classes in a month, I get an extra $.50 per class which makes me $19 an hour. BUT WAIT! If I teach 40 classes a month, I make an extra $1 per class which makes $20 an hour. They also offer incentives each month and encourage you to set goals so they can give you bigger bonuses.

The Bad:

This is a hot ticket way to make a good deal of money. The bad? You are an independent contractor. That means, you are responsible for taking out and setting aside your own money. For those of us who are no frills, just take the money out for me, type of people, this will be a hard adjustment. I personally set aside 25% of each paycheck but every one’s tax situation is different.

HOW ARE THE KIDS?

The Good:

Every child I’ve worked with has been sweet. They are anxious, shy and nervous in their first few classes as new students but they become comfortable and a lot of them will bring their own props to classes to show you. Their school teachers don’t provide the same type of warmth that teachers in North America do. Their schools are run in a fashion that helps them master the material and become very knowledgeable. What VIPKID looks for in teachers is to not only help them master the English language but to make the experience fun for the whole child, not just their brains.

The Bad:

They are children. Other teachers in the forums I’m part of have had some difficult students and parents. I have had a student continue to cover the camera with his foot, kids who scribble on the slides, tell me “No”, fall asleep and I’ve had many that just stare at me and blink so I just teach the lesson to my puppet and pray for the best. It does happen. Other teachers have had worse experiences. When you open yourself up to a population targeting millions of children, there are bound to be some handfuls. If you are not cool under pressure or don’t think you have it in you to be overly excited when a child FINALLY understands that you want them to use their mouse to draw a circle around the big letter A, then this might not be in the cards for you yet.

WHAT TIME DO YOU TEACH? I’M NOT A MORNING PERSON:

I get this question a lot, too. I also am not a morning person. I’ve developed a love affair with coffee and if I’m being honest, I couldn’t give the company what they wanted if I didn’t have the coffee.

The Good: If you’re a single parent or a parent of small children or if you find yourself in a position where you HAVE to take on a part-time job, this one has the best hours. While not convenient, they save you from having to leave your kids to work an 8 hour shift somewhere. I am in the Eastern Standard Time zone which puts us 12-13 hours behind the students in Beijing. That means during the weeknights here, they are in school. I personally teach from 6:00-6:30 a.m. on Wednesday and Thursday mornings and then leave for work right after. On Friday nights I teach from 9:00 p.m.- midnight and on Sunday mornings I teach from 6:00-8:00 a.m. These are all times when my babies are sound asleep so I can teach without paying a babysitter. I began as a VIPKID teacher just teaching one class on Friday night, one on Saturday morning and one on Sunday morning until I got my bearings. They want you to teach more but there is NO requirement for how much you have to teach each month. You can take your time and get your feet wet before you jump in completely.

The Bad: You get tired. I’m in the business of being honest. Sometimes waking up at 5:00 a.m. smack dab in the middle of the week to make $40 is tough to muster considering I’m also juggling a full-time classroom. I also miss drinking a glass of wine on Friday nights with my husband and unwinding after a long week. Instead, I’m sipping coffee, talking with hand puppets and high fiving children on the other side of the world.. ok that doesn’t really sound so bad does it?

IS IT A STABLE JOB? CAN I QUIT MY JOB AND STAY AT HOME?

As far as stability, let’s just lay the cards out on the table. You’re an independent contractor. Similarly to a real estate agent or a travelling taco vender (ok maybe not that), you’re counting on others to want the service you’re providing. Parents choose the teacher they want for their children. I’ve referred many teachers who have been successful and I’ve referred a couple great teachers who just couldn’t get booked. You count on parents giving you feedback and ratings and those are viewed by other parents. It took me a few weeks to get solid bookings but now I see the same 12-15 students each week. The company is also quick to terminate your contract if you cancel 6 or more classes per contract (the contract term is 6 months). I’ve personally seen this happen. Like with any company, if a parent books you, that is an agreement you have with that parent to be in the class at that time. Their culture is not lenient when it comes to breaking a commitment. However, they were mildly understanding when I had to cancel 5 classes to flee from an impending hurricane. They are still on my record but they are soft cancellations and they don’t count against me.

The Good Stuff

Here is the good.. all the good I’ve got.. the reason I stick around. The joy it brings me.. the richness it’s added to my life. If you don’t like cheesy honesty, don’t read anymore. I am firm believer in positive affirmations.. fake it till you make it. Talking yourself into being happy.  Forcing myself to smile even when I’m tired, shaking off the tired and preparing to wave emphatically at a little boy who is shaking in his seat because he’s so excited in that 30 seconds before my camera opens, listening to an 11 year old boy read the Ugly Duckling to you because it’s the first book he’s read in English and he wants to share, having a little girl walk you around her house to introduce you to her family, the kids showing you pictures they drew of you when you weren’t there, this is IT. It’s all the reason I personally need, to keep doing it. These things have changed me down to my core. They’ve made me happier in my daily interactions. They’ve made me love my students in my brick and mortar classroom in an even more gentle way. They’ve made me aware of my own facial expressions. My body language. I will work for this company until they won’t have me anymore. Not because I’m a die-hard VIPKID employee. It’s a business. They have flaws. Not because I’m so poor that I will always need the extra income. It’s because this is LITERALLY the coolest thing I’ve ever been involved in.

If you find this may be something you’d be interested in trying, send me an email. I’d love to help. If you think this is something you would not be interested in trying, you can still send me an email but include a picture of tiny, furry animals because we all need more of those.

Click my referral link if you want to sign up with me so I can coach you through the process.

https://t.vipkid.com.cn/?refereeId=5657451&refersourceid=a01

Click this link if you want to sign up independently.

https://t.vipkid.com.cn/faq/becoming_teacher

This is from a class I taught on Halloween. She couldn't wait to show me her costume 

  

To my daughter's teacher

I type this letter to you knowing that it may leave your memory merely moments after you read it. That in the hustle and shuffling of trainings and papers and the climbing up and down off of stepstools and tiny student chairs to hang bulletin boards, you’ll file this letter in the back of your mind as something you can remind yourself to remember later. I’ve been there. I know the craziness of making to-do lists and leaving them all around your chaos of a classroom and slapping yourself in the forehead because you forgot to buy sticky tack for the 6^th year in a row. I know you need to catch up with your teacher friends over a blueberry muffin at your PTA back-to-school breakfast. I know my daughter is just a name on a name tag right now so I don’t mind if you put this out of your memory for a while. But there will come a time when I hope you’ll remember this.

My daughter isn’t easy. Just know that I know this. I also want you to know these few things. On a 21 hour long car trip, she spent 2 hours just holding her hand up in the air to block the blinding sun from her infant brother’s eyes. She cries when her siblings get shots. She doesn’t know if she wants to be a Pediatrician or a Shark scientist but she knows she’s going to live at home with us forever. She starts each day with a cotton candy frozen gogurt. She has a habit of letting her hands move faster than her brain and you’re going to have to remind her an obscene number of times to keep her hands to herself. We are teaching her not to give her toys and cash to her friends that come and play and that her time with them is gift enough. She is a follower down to her core and cares deeply about what others think of her.  

She will walk into your classroom with her summer tan and her hair in braids. She’ll have the standard brand new sneakers and most likely a plastic backpack since she prefers flair over quality. She’ll be missing a few baby teeth and her anxiety over the new setting will come out as loudness and awkward silliness. I just hope you’ll remember to be tender with my girl. We are working behind the scenes to help her mold herself into the person God has meant for her to become. We are listening. We see and understand.  When your patience wears thin with her, as it most likely will, just remember she is the glue that holds me together and she is valuable beyond words. This little person will do big things. 

Why You Should Quit Teaching

I've been there. There's a pull on your heart to let the wind blow you in a different direction.. the urge to see where you land professionally. Maybe in an office. Maybe travelling the world. You feel angst at the thought of what today may bring.. what words will be pieced together in a new powerpoint presented at a faculty meeting, written by people in charge, most of whom we’ve never met up close..that old sinking feeling “You need to be better. The 100% you're inputting is not measuring up to the 200% we need. The machine that is your body, that is also the body of a mom, a daughter, a wife, a friend, needs to move faster, work harder, with more purpose and less outside distraction.” It's the same message presented in many different ways. I feel this pull often. But I stay. And most teachers do. But this is why you should quit.

1.)   If you can’t make eye contact with a student walking into your classroom who is so desperately waiting to be acknowledged and, with a smile, make them feel like you’re genuinely happy they came to school that day, you should quit.

2.)    If you can’t push aside the bureaucracy long enough to stand in the copy room with a group of teachers and discuss something other than the misgivings you’re faced with each day, you should quit.

3.)   If you no longer feel empowered and humbled by the job you've been trusted with and the beauty in the relationship you are able to create amongst a group of little humans, you should quit.

4.)   If you just can’t seem to find it inside of you to share something positive about your most difficult student during a parent conference, you should quit.

5.)   If you find yourself no longer enjoying implementing new activities or learning new strategies, you should quit.

6.)   If you aren’t physically or emotionally able to let go long enough to give a full-on, red in the face belly laugh with your students, (because let’s face it, they’re crazy little weirdos) then you should quit.

7.)   If you find no joy in helping grow these little people, if you’re not personally invested, if you can’t give them the best of you, if you can’t put aside your personal feelings about your own professional morale long enough to plant something beautiful in each child, then you should quit. 
8.) If you can't give most of yourself away each day, every fiber of energy that makes up who you are, only to receive back a notion that it's still not enough. If you stop giving any of yourself away at all, you should quit. 

Not because you’re a quitter. Not because you have a bad heart or you don’t care. Not because you haven’t spent years and years of your life beautifully honing this craft. But because, let’s get real here, you’re tired. You're broken-hearted and feeling invisible. And the goal you had in mind is unforeseeable. You forgot why you ventured on this path. The system we are working for is broken. We are tiny little specks on a machine that is much larger than we are and it’s spinning in a direction we can’t fix in one quick tug, but if there is no fight left in you.. and your daily mantra becomes “What about me?” instead of “What about them? Then my friend, you should quit. 

Birthday number 5

On the topic of parenting I feel slightly amateurish. There are times sweet girl, when you say things that give me goosebumps. Words so carefully placed and tenderly spoken that I can’t find words to respond so I just squeeze you tightly. Then, there are the other times. The times when you stand firmly with your hands placed squarely on your hips, lips tightly pursed, wild, wispy hair flailing.. All while vehemently making demands. Those are times when I am also at a loss for words. I’m sure for the first of many times, your fierce independence and strong resolve snuck up on several occasions this past year and punched me in the face, leaving me reeling at both how strong-willed you are and how fast my time with you has flown.

You’ve christened a whole new behavior management plan at home in your time as a 4 year old as well as reinforced a solid understanding amongst family members that it’s imperative we offer bargains to get you to eat your dinner if we wish for a cease-fire. But mostly, on this day especially, you’ve given us another wonderful day in the year to be grateful for. This past year was an interesting one for us. We welcomed your sweet baby sister, and there was a never a quaver in your voice when you told others she was coming. You patiently waited for your big, pregnant mommy to waddle up the stairs at bedtime. You even gave me a lift from behind on a few occasions. You welcomed me home from work each day with a full cup of ice water and even flipped the legs of the recliner up unexpectedly sometimes so I could rest my swollen feet. You sang sweet songs to my belly, read books and talked to her about how much you love her already. There were times when my pregnancy emotions got the best of me and I spent the day apologizing for crying without explanation to which you sweetly replied “It’s ok, mommy. You’re pwegnant.” These memories, even amongst the sea of new memories we will make together, will always be my most treasured.

In your time as a four year old, mommy learned some new things, too. I always thought when the time came for me to become a parent, I would instinctively have it all together. It would come at a time in my life where I was obnoxiously self-assured. I’d be making a substantial amount of money and my house would be organized. I’d have a hefty savings and be very well-read. I became a mom 5 years ago and ever since then life has been the most beautiful firestorm of events, but nothing like I’d planned. I love that I have you as my fearless leader while I navigate my way through the twisty paths to growing a good kid.

Thank you sweet girl for pushing me out of my comfort zone. Thank you for the challenging me daily to check the person I’m becoming. Thank you for testing my resolve by occasionally embarrassing me in public and thank you for keeping me human by giving me the chance to laugh about it now. I’m probably still quite amateur-ish. I’ll probably never be an expert but my biggest hope in the next year is that I make you as proud as you’ve made me.  

You’re one of the most beautiful treasures in my life. Happy 5^th birthday, sweet girl.  

An Open Letter to our NICU Nurses

If nothing else during this labor and delivery, I’ve learned that events in our lives are far beyond our earthly control. I never planned to get to know you. I planned to spend my evening after delivery with my chubby baby lying on my chest with her long legs folded up under her. I pictured her sweet daddy and I listening to the rhythm of her breathing while we took an obscene number of cell phone pictures and ate wheat thins and licorice from the vending machine. Instead we were shaken to our core as we watched our ghastly white baby gasping for breath while your team swept in and got to work, connecting breathing tubes and wires. You were not in our plan and yet within moments you became the most important people in our lives.

There are plenty of people in the world who are effective at their jobs. There are people who work hard and go unnoticed. There are people who do far less each day and receive much more notoriety. Sometimes though, you meet people whose heart is so buried in what they do for a living that being in their presence seems humbling.

During our precious daughter’s stay in the NICU, we’ve seen you. We’ve watched you balance rooms full of critical babies. Spending the day listening to a hundred different beeps, discerning the urgent from the benign, keeping calm when an urgent one has your heart racing. We’ve seen you decorate each baby’s bed with sweet pink or blue accessories and personalized name tags. A gentle and personal touch against a stark white backsplash of sterile and uniform. We’ve personally experienced your compassion when you found a way to tenderly explain that while we would be leaving the hospital empty-handed, our daughter would be cared for just the same. 

We’ve watched you while we scrubbed in, when you didn’t know we were watching. We saw you delicately handle our daughter as if we were in the room. You’ve patiently helped a frustrated nursing mom bond with her baby and spent your precious time moving, shifting and reattaching wires and cables so I could hold her against the warmth of my chest, even just for a moment. A small gift for which I could never repay you.

No, we certainly didn’t plan to get to know you. But as I sit here with my healthy baby laying on my chest, her legs curled up underneath her, I hear her rhythmic and even breathing, and I’m ever so grateful we did.        

"and though she be but little, she is fierce.."

To my fearless child,

You let me rock you this morning. It seems minor and pretty commonplace for a momma to snuggle and rock her toddler but you my sweet girl, are like a gale force wind whipping through our tiny townhouse. As we speak, you are running past me in a tutu shouting out words to your own made-up songs, as per usual in that tireless half hour before nap time.

We had a super busy week this week and I was vacuuming the living room while you laid on your tummy playing with your Little People. You walked over to the vacuum and switched it off, looked at me and giggled. I squatted down to turn it back on and you hopped up wrapping your arms around my neck. I lifted you up, realizing that when your feet were dangling, they almost reached my knees.. and then mommy had one of those ultra sad/happy moments that moms get when they realize their baby is not a baby anymore.    

You rested your head on my shoulder and for a full 15 minutes, I swayed back and forth just listening to you breathe. Every couple minutes you would chime in with a few new verses to your original ballad called “You are my good mommy.”

I hope this coming year brings you good fortune. That your spirit grows and your soul is filled with everything you need. I hope that when God humbles you, as he does with us all, you meet your challenges with grace and not with tears and tantrums. I hope you feel loved, even in time out. I hope that you understand mommy is not trying to be mean when she doesn’t let you have a second donut. I’m trying to teach you self-control. I hope you learn at least one new thing each day and that you find something beautiful to be thankful for before you go to bed each night.  

Tomorrow you will be 3 years old. You have spent every day of your life with me minus 1 and tomorrow we will celebrate that day- the day you were brought into this world and began changing so many lives in such colossal ways. While at times, I seem tongue tied when it comes to expressing how grateful I am that our arduous battle with the court system is ending in such a beautiful way-- what I can tell you with all the honesty in my heart, is that every second I get to spend being your mom is a second I wouldn’t trade for the most precious of golds.

You are fierce and beautiful- brilliant and kind. You are determined and willful and inquisitive. A princess and an athlete. You inspire me every day to be a better person, to love God even more, to try new things, to fight for the things I love and to look at small things with a childlike appreciation. You my sweet child are a blessing that I don’t deserve but by God’s grace you’ve landed here in my living room, in my arms, with your head on my shoulder. I love you baby girl. Happy 3^rd Birthday.

   

Hug a Teacher

My boyfriend and I were sitting on the couch the other night. It had been a long work week, with a 14 hour work day nestled right in the middle of it. It felt like a job just to keep my eyes open. We were talking about our day when he asked if I had heard what happened to the young teacher in Massachusetts. My heart fluttered. The word “happened” implied past tense and the word had a sad and eerie feeling to it. He then told me she was murdered by her student. I shuddered, trying hard not to think about the maelstrom of events that were probably unfolding for her grieving family- the relentless and invasive digging that this child’s attorney will most likely do into this woman’s personal life in an attempt to find a reason to justify this sick kid’s actions. As teachers, we stand on the front line, sometimes up against the world’s most angry children. Our job is to teach learning strategies and information and yet, built into our unwritten curriculum we must also teach them love, life-skills, caring and tolerance. We must try to sell to them on the idea that the world is truly a good place when we aren’t always so sure ourselves. We parent these children and often bend and mold ourselves into the people they need us to be in order to fill the gaping holes they have in their lives left by situations beyond their control. At times, I feel this tug the world has on me to be superhuman; to be able to toggle between being loving and tough, professional and parental. I must openly accept criticism from parents, politicians, colleagues, and evaluators and accept the idea that on a daily basis we will be told that we are not meeting our children’s needs, that we are deficient. Then we must still smile hard and comfort a struggling student who is frustrated. I’m frustrated too, sweet babies. Each morning, my alarm clock shrieks and vibrates on the nightstand reminding me it’s not Saturday. It’s time to face a day where almost anything can happen. Anything can be brought into my classroom. Sometimes I find myself re-braiding a student’s braid that came loose on the way to school and I think about the hurried pony tail my own child has. I dig through my purse for granola bars because a student was tardy and missed breakfast and I think about the convenient breakfast full of sugar I started my kid’s day with. I often have to train my brain to remember I’m a mommy first. Teachers spend their days drawing boundaries for the child who wants to be mothered yet still finding ways to show they are listening and they care. We try hard to relate to the boy who hates the world. We keep our cool when he’s tearing up his work or scrawling thick black pencil across the assignments we’ve most likely spent our own personal time at home creating. We find things to love in the children with very few lovable traits. We must sometimes find creative ways to communicate with students who speak no English. We make small decisions every day for children who have never had the chance to problem solve. “There is a chair by my desk, Miss. Where should I put it?” “My paper is a little wrinkly. My friend told my other friend she doesn't want to be my friend anymore. How do I make her be my friend? Miss, what should I do?” “I don’t like chicken and it’s the only thing for lunch. What should I do?” “Someone peed on the bathroom floor. What should I do?” “My pencil lead is dull. What should I do?” We are mediators in arguments between children whose real battle is that they’re looking for some control and stability in their own lives and may only get the empowerment they need by hurtfully draining it from others. We spend our Fridays trying to harness the energy we can feel building up inside our students, ready to come out in the form of unbridled chaos and by the time the weekend comes, our brains and hearts are aching and sore. Sometimes, we are the only safe place for a child to bump into and we are on the receiving end of aggression we don’t deserve. Sometimes our hearts are raw with emotion when our children are suffering yet we are also some of the very few who get to experience the unbelievable joy they feel when they reach a goal they thought was impossible. We are not the only people who are pushed to their limits. I know that. We are regular people that are stretched like rubber bands.. trying to maintain a bit of cohesion in a classroom where the outside world visits far too often. I can't make any guarantees to any young teachers going into the field that this will happen but I know for myself, even when your heart and ego are bruised and you're spending your evenings peeling dried glue off of your fingers and you hate the sound of your own last name, in the end, when that child you thought you'd never reach gives you a hug so tight it gives you goosebumps, it's worth it. It's so worth it.