Zhao decided he had to try something new. He hoped that Chinese paper cutting, or gifts such as chopsticks and watercolor paintings, would provide some incentive. He stayed up until 3 a.m. making name cards with Chinese characters for each of his approximately 50 students in both his classes.
He told a girl that he would give her one if she would participate just once in a dictation exercise. She told him she didn't care if she got one or not. Zhao gave her the card anyway, and she started mouthing the words moments later.
Now it was time for a quiz -- 15 true-or-false questions, a translation exercise and then a stab at writing Chinese characters for a few basic words. This was the first time Zhao would see if his students had learned anything.
As he dropped the tests on their desks, a girl picked hers up, examined it and loudly blurted out an expletive. For the next 45 minutes, the class seemed to fall in and out of consciousness. Some attempted to answer such questions as: "Chinese culture was the cradle of Japanese, Korean and some Southeast Asian cultures -- true or false?" Others looked as though they were sleeping with their eyes open.
But something changed the moment Zhao started explaining the answers. A competitive spirit emerged among some in the classroom.
When they got a question correct, they cheered. When they got another one right, they started moving their shoulders in a dance.
"I knew that one. I'm a genius. That was easy," said a playful Alena Monet Cox, a 12th-grader who straddled the line between those who misbehaved and those who paid attention. She selected Chinese because she was tired of studying Spanish. She had visions of visiting China one day.
Her enthusiasm set the tone for the class. When she participated, so did the clique around her. On this day, Zhao was impressed. Monet, as she chose to be called, had even remembered how to write her name in Chinese characters. She had signed her quiz that way.
A boy next to Monet raised his hand.
"How do you say in Chinese, 'You a G?' " -- slang for hoodlum.
Monet rolled her eyes.
"How do you say 'stupid question'?"
Zhao packed his things, waited for the bell and walked out smiling.
A few minutes later, he was in the teachers' lounge, meeting with Sharon Markenson, a veteran Dorsey instructor charged with coaching neophytes like Zhao.
