Teaching Chinese in the UK: From “Mandarin Club” to Intercultural Bridges

If every country has its own symbolic color, then the festive “Chinese Red” somehow finds an echo in the UK’s charm. My first impression of Britain was muted—rain, grey skies, calm streets. Yet at every corner stood something strikingly red: mailboxes, phone booths, double-decker buses. These flashes of color reminded me that my two years of teaching Chinese in Sheffield were about to begin.

From Korea to Britain: A Seed Takes Root

The idea of teaching in the UK had been planted years earlier, when I worked as a volunteer teacher at a Confucius Classroom in South Korea. I even created a folder on my laptop named “Ying Yuan” (Fate with Britain). Three years later, the dream became reality.

First Challenge: Teaching Chinese to Children

My first assignment in Sheffield was running a Mandarin Club for primary school children. Having mostly taught adults before, I was unprepared—lesson plans failed, classroom management didn’t work, and chaos often ensued.

Then I remembered my earlier training as a children’s TV host. I decided to “perform” instead of “lecture.” Soon, “Brother Duan’s Big Windmill Mandarin Funland” was born. With songs, games, and crafts, the kids were hooked, and I unexpectedly gained a group of loyal little fans.

To maintain their interest, I incorporated hands-on activities. For example, while teaching numbers and colors, I used paper flowers as craft projects. Kids learned to count in Chinese while making “five-color flowers,” which they later gifted to their mothers on Mother’s Day—a perfect way for the “flower of Chinese language” to enter local homes.

The takeaway was clear: children’s Chinese learning must be fun, creative, and family-oriented. A handmade card or craft with Chinese characters is more than a classroom exercise—it’s a bridge between cultures.

Grammar Made Playful: “Er” vs. “Liang”

Chinese numbers are notoriously tricky. Adults might learn through grammar explanations, but children need “language sense.” Instead of abstract lectures, I embedded numbers in songs and games:

• Marching chants: “yī, èr, yī, èr” to keep rhythm and discipline.
• Origami games introducing ordinals (“first, second…”).
• A panda counting song (“one panda, two pandas…”) to naturally show when to use “liǎng” instead of “èr.”

Through these playful contexts, students absorbed grammar intuitively—learning through experience, not explanation.

Teaching Adults: Night Classes at Sheffield University

At the same time, I also taught adult learners—mostly professors and lecturers from the University of Sheffield. They were highly motivated but also very demanding. Sometimes a single grammar point, like the difference between “jǐ” (几) and “duōshao” (多少), sparked heated debates.

To meet their needs, I used a “flipped classroom” approach: sharing handouts in advance, then guiding discussions where students questioned, analyzed, and compared. This “teach–learn–research” cycle suited their academic background and turned lessons into genuine scholarly exchange.

Pronunciation Fun: From Pandas to Harry Potter

One common challenge for English speakers is mastering Chinese tones—especially the second tone. A humorous classroom moment solved it.

A British student once confused xióngmāo (panda) with xiōngmáo (chest hair). Another student cleverly pointed out that the rising intonation of English yes–no questions (“Is that a…?”) is similar to the Chinese second tone. From then on, students improved dramatically.

I also invented the “Tone Magic Wand” method, inspired by Harry Potter. With pencils as wands, students practiced tones like casting spells:

• 1st tone: “robot voice”
• 2nd tone: “like a question mark”
• 3rd tone: “down then up”
• 4th tone: “angry, going down”

This playful system delighted both kids and adults, making tones less intimidating and more memorable.

Localized Materials: A Garden of Stories

Chinese teaching abroad must be localized. In the UK, I met Chen Shan, author of Dudu’s Garden, a set of children’s Chinese storybooks written and illustrated in Britain. Her books, rooted in local life, weave Chinese language into familiar settings like a child’s backyard, making learning relatable and fun.

This reminded me: localization is not about literal translation, but about adapting to learners’ worldviews—telling Chinese stories in ways that resonate with British children.

Teaching During the Pandemic

In 2020, when COVID-19 struck, teaching moved online. I designed a “DIY Mask Card” activity for primary school children. While learning Chinese vocabulary about health and protection, students decorated paper masks and shared them with their families. It was both a language lesson and a cultural exchange, spreading care and positivity across borders.

Reflections

My time in the UK showed me the power of creativity and cultural empathy in Chinese language teaching. From children making paper flowers, to professors debating grammar, to students waving “magic wands” to practice tones, every moment reaffirmed that teaching Chinese abroad is about much more than words—it’s about connection.

As long as students laugh, question, and discover, the seeds of Chinese learning will continue to grow, whether in Sheffield classrooms, family living rooms, or even back gardens full of stories.