Latest in the Top Five Embarrassing Moments Category...

I think this just might be one of the most embarrassing experiences to date. One of those "oh help oh mercy oh no what do I say what do I do how can I make this better oh no there isn't any way to make this better so what's the quickest escape route" moments.
Today was my final "teaching" class for my non-English majors.  The numbers in these classes have dwindled over the past couple of weeks, due to students focusing on preparing for their final exams in their major classes and leaving mine.  I combined all my classes together for a final double session this morning, to be followed by their final exam tomorrow afternoon.  Much more convenient all around.
So, let me tell you about one of my best students.  Lesley.
Right away, the name should have tipped me off.  This is clearly a male student -- baggy clothes, short boy haircut, black tennis shoes, sideburns -- but the name is not the most macho ever.  He has a bit of a baby face and a slightly higher voice than most of the boys in my classes, and he's a little chubby, so you'd think he'd want to beef up his name.  Still, this is China.  I have boy students named anything from "Killer" and 'Oh Yeah" to "Summer" and "Rain," so I took it in stride.  Boy named Lesley.  Not common in America, but not unusual either.  Plus, the kid's a really great student.  The only one out of all my non-major classes to get an A on his speech, consistently the highest grades on quizzes, always does his homework.  He's the kid that I look to when I'm teaching to check if he understands.  If he gets it, I move on or have him explain in Chinese.  If not, I try different phrasing.  I have a couple of these students in each class who act as my gauge on understanding.
Anyway.  I digress.
Because Lesley is such a good student, I'm not surprised to see him in class today (on a Saturday).  Pretty much only my good students show up -- Lesley, Carmen, Sky, Dennis, Job, Endy -- and some others who really do seem to care about class but don't have a prayer of passing because they just don't do the work.  Today's topic was all about the body -- feeling sick, injuries, body parts, body movements.  This is one of my stellar lessons that the kids really get into.  I mean, what students with the maturity level of 13-year-olds don't love to talk about puke, learn words like "rear end" and watch their teacher demonstrate body movements like crawling and jumping?  Exactly.  Plus, I had cookies left over from our Christmas party last night, so correct answers earned you a cookie.  Tried to make class on a Saturday morning as appealing as possible.
Okay, so one other thing that I do with this lesson, regarding injuries, is talk about self-defense.  They LOVE this.  I took a self-defense class in college and really enjoyed it, and it's fun to pass along the info.  Plus, there's the Miss Congeniality wisdom:  Solar plexus, Instep, Nose, Groin.  SING.  I pick on a few different boys to demonstrate (I don't really hit them, never fear) and the class always goes nuts for it.  Today I picked on Carmen (he's a weird kid, turns out he knows kung fu, I probably shouldn't have asked him to "attack" me, he almost won) and Lesley.  Everything went super well...
...until the break.
At which point, Sky (who is a Brother now!  Praises!) comes up to my desk and asks me, "That student (points to Lesley), do you think it is a boy or girl?"
I.  Have.  No.  Words. 
I think maybe this is some kind of trick, so he has a baby face and a girlish name, doesn't mean anything -- I have to say something, they're both looking at me --
"A boy," I say, and look down at my papers, pretending to be busy.
"No.  It's a girl," says Sky.
I.  Want.  To.  Die. 
And, of course, Lesley comes up to the desk, looking all wounded and embarrassed. 
I say the only thing that pops into my head.  "Oh.  Well, Lesley is an English boy's name, so I just thought..."
Okay, it's more commonly a girl's name, but I've already given this kid an identity complex for life now.  I'm not about to say "You just look like such a boy!" 
Aiya.
Lesley says that he (I just can't think "she!") looked up the name on the internet and it's a girl's name, and I mumble something about it being a boy's name too.  I stare at the paper and try to pretend like I'm not contemplating how long it would take me to fashion my shoelaces into a noose. 
I sneak looks at Lesley through the next class period, and I still don't see it!  I mean, that is a boy!  Walks like a boy, dresses like a boy, hair like a boy, talks like a boy, BOY!  I can't meet his eyes, and I feel terrible for hauling a girl up to the front of the room to pretend to attack me so that I can demonstrate self-defense.  Oh help.  And then, while I'm feeling just awful, I still wish I had my camera with me so I could snap Lesley's picture and show you all and say "See!  That has to be a boy!"  which makes me a really horrible person on top of a really big idiot.  And how would I ask for a picture?  "Excuse me, I just want to show my friends how mannish you are for a girl."  Ugh.
You know, I've always been afraid that, teaching in China, I would confuse one student with another.  Truth be told, I can't tell most of my students apart when they're out of the classroom or buy a new shirt.  Seriously. 
But I really never thought I'd get the gender wrong. 
Still, Lesley has a great future.  Think how great he/she would be as an undercover agent.