Six weeks ago, I threw my life in a suitcase and headed south. I had no expectations of what I was getting into. I literally boarded a plane with a brand new passport and random sets of directions from Dian and Julia. Six weeks later, I feel like I am in a totally different frame of mind. I’m so relieved that I traveled here with an open mind because a lot of crazy things have come my way. I have been more independent, more culturally sensitive, and more extroverted than I ever imagined. I have never been away from home for so long, and I was terribly homesick at times. However, I knew that I had a family here to help me out. I sucked it up and used whatever Spanish I could to get some comfort from them. In terms of my independence, I learned how to navigate the regional bus system on my own. Heck, I learned how to flag down a bus and demand to get on or else (ask Marjorie and me about that sometime). I learned how to travel around a country and not spazz out that I’m about to get murdered everywhere I go. I learned to appreciate the quirky cultural norms that seem so different from my own- the clothes, the food, the lack of time management, the oddity that I am not married or pregnant by 23.
I learned how to roll with the punches and step out of my comfort zone in numerous aspects of my life. Look at my placement. A complete circus all the time. My carefully scripted lesson plans didn’t mesh with Dog Day, Sesame Street Day, Sports Week. I found out how I could adapt to meet the unique style of this particular school. I adapted in a similar way with my home life. Not understanding the language means that you have to develop a flexible schedule. Oh, we’re going away for the whole weekend? Missed that. Okay.
This experience has allowed me to become a much stronger teacher. I had to reflect daily on the individual needs of my students, as they are all in very different places in terms of second language acquisition. I tried to take their perspective with the texts and find overlying themes that would be relevant to their lives. This was entirely different from my American placements, where many of the students grew up with background similar to my own. I really had to look at Costa Rican laws, cultural norms, social movements, and the education system as a whole to develop my instruction. Although I will not be dealing with classes of eight students in the US, I hope that I will be able to continue to evaluate the needs of particular classes on an individualized basis in order to differentiate instruction.
In retrospect, there are things I could have done differently. The big one would be to take any sort of Spanish class/study on my own before my arrival. I don’t know where I would have fit that one in, but I should have taken the time to refresh on vocabulary. There are so many words that I know in Spanish, but just can’t remember off the top of my head. Even after I return, I think a Spanish class could allow me to advance my skills to a much greater degree.
Ultimately, the biggest thing to come out of this experience is my new love of travel. I have always been interested in Latin American and African cultures (see my degree), but now I want to go EVERYWHERE. It’s not hard to figure out where to go and what to do in a foreign country if you listen to people. And usually they are much friendlier than Americans, so that’s a perk! I want to go to South Africa. I want to travel the Middle East. I wouldn’t mind Greece or Spain. The beauty of being a teacher is that you get two months off every year for whatever. Hopefully, I can get another trip planned for next year!
I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE EVERYONE!!! SEE YOU SO SOON!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Required Post: Greatest Professional Disappointment
“Professor Katie. I don’t understand when you change sentences to passive tense.” “Teacher, what is a past participle?” “When do you use has and have?” “How do you say ‘cheap’, ‘sheep’, ‘sheet’, and ‘cheat’ so they don’t sound like you are saying ‘s—t’?”
The last question was real, in case you were wondering.
English grammar is the worst. I know if it’s wrong, I know if it’s right, but why… I have no idea. It’s been the bane of my existence in my time here. I dread grammar lessons. Even with fun activities and review games, there are questions thrown at me constantly that baffle me completely. Just one time, can someone come up to me and ask “What is your stance on the new Arizona legislation?” or “What were the causes of World War II?” or “How would you define substantive due process?” I mean, in case we all forgot, my certification is Secondary Social Studies. Not English grammar.
I don’t even like planning for it, to be honest. We’re half a unit behind in a few of my classes (not terrible) because I would rather read than pull out the workbook. Shockingly, the kids agree with me. They’d rather find out how Gatsby and Daisy are faring than work on present perfect. As a professional, the big girl thing for me to do would be to find ways to make the grammar more engaging, to spend hours finding out all of the rules. In real life, I do not have the time or patience. Yeah, I spice up grammar whenever possible by giving writing reflections that secretly practice the grammar unit assigned, or through fun around the world games, or by relay races outside. In the end, though, I am the worst at explaining grammar rules. And I think my students can pick up on it. Whomp whomp.
This is my first shout out post. If you are an English wizard and have some fun engaging grammar games, hit me up. I still have three days. And don’t just copy and paste online stuff… trust me. I’ve been there.
Thanks friends!
PS Also, do not send me all of the grammatical errors in this blog. I know some of you would SO do that.
The last question was real, in case you were wondering.
English grammar is the worst. I know if it’s wrong, I know if it’s right, but why… I have no idea. It’s been the bane of my existence in my time here. I dread grammar lessons. Even with fun activities and review games, there are questions thrown at me constantly that baffle me completely. Just one time, can someone come up to me and ask “What is your stance on the new Arizona legislation?” or “What were the causes of World War II?” or “How would you define substantive due process?” I mean, in case we all forgot, my certification is Secondary Social Studies. Not English grammar.
I don’t even like planning for it, to be honest. We’re half a unit behind in a few of my classes (not terrible) because I would rather read than pull out the workbook. Shockingly, the kids agree with me. They’d rather find out how Gatsby and Daisy are faring than work on present perfect. As a professional, the big girl thing for me to do would be to find ways to make the grammar more engaging, to spend hours finding out all of the rules. In real life, I do not have the time or patience. Yeah, I spice up grammar whenever possible by giving writing reflections that secretly practice the grammar unit assigned, or through fun around the world games, or by relay races outside. In the end, though, I am the worst at explaining grammar rules. And I think my students can pick up on it. Whomp whomp.
This is my first shout out post. If you are an English wizard and have some fun engaging grammar games, hit me up. I still have three days. And don’t just copy and paste online stuff… trust me. I’ve been there.
Thanks friends!
PS Also, do not send me all of the grammatical errors in this blog. I know some of you would SO do that.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Classroom Management
May 4, 2010
Seven fifteen.
I climb off the bus, eyeing the adorable little boy in the front row. I am going to steal him before I leave this country. Not sure how, but it’s going to happen. I meander to my classroom and unlock the door. Erase the chalkboard. Set up my computer and try to connect to the completely unreliable internet. Straighten the desks. Satisfied with the way things are set up, I plop into my chair and review my first period lesson plan. Tenth grade means we’re reading Gatsby. I open up the jazz piece I plan on opening with. I write the lyrics out across the board. I check to make sure the song will stream decently. I write out my opening questions about the Jazz Age.
Seven thirty.
The bell rings, indicating that the school day has started. I look up at the clock, but not much else happens. I size up my handwriting on the board. It’s written with some sidewalk chalk I found in my craft box, so it’s not my best work. However, it’ll do for this morning. Marjorie walks by to check in on our social schedule for the rest of the week. We talk briefly, and then she moves onto her class.
Seven forty-five.
Two kids wander in. The other five students eventually make their way through the courtyard into the classroom. Around seven fifty, I start class.
Right, I can see that anyone knowing the basics of classroom management is going into cardiac arrest right now. How can you start class twenty minutes late? What are you thinking? Well, my friends, welcome to Tico Time. Time does not exist in this country. I’m pretty positive that’s why I have eleven periods every day. It makes up for the fact we waste so much time! Ironically, students are graded on their arrival time to class. I saw the grades of my eleventh graders- big fat E’s. They don’t care, it’s not like that’s going to keep them from passing on to the next grade. I think this is the point that really made me realize I wasn’t in America. Yeah, the textbooks are the same, the lesson strategies I use are comparable, but the classroom management, whoaaaa boy.
The first week I almost lost my mind. The eighth graders were rocking their desks back until they fell over on my second day. I didn’t have a mentor teacher so I couldn’t say “IS THIS NORMAL?” So, I dealt with the issue in the best manner I know- Sue Sylvester style.
“SIT DOWN NOW. SIT. YOU. SIT. DOWN. YOU ALL NEED TO GET QUIET RIGHT NOW. I AM SO SERIOUS. DO I LOOK LIKE I’M JOKING? NO. I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU NORMALLY ACT IN HERE BUT THIS IS MY CLASSROOM NOW AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE THE WAY YOU ARE ACTING.” (Pause to slam down a desk that is hovering mid-air) “I WOULD NOT ACCEPT THIS BEHAVIOR IN MY CLASSROOM IN THE UNITED STATES. AND GUESS WHAT? YOU ARE JUST AS SMART AS THEY ARE. YOU ARE JUST AS CAPABLE OF FOLLOWING DIRECTIONS. SO I’M NOT PUTTING UP WITH THIS FOR ANOTHER MINUTE. YOU WILL BE HELD TO MY STANDARDS BECAUSE I KNOW STUDENTS YOUR AGE ARE CAPABLE OF MEETING THEM.”
I pause. The students are taken aback completely for two reasons. One- teachers don’t DO that. Teachers aren’t big on classroom management here and never really use grown up voices. Two- half of the kids have no idea what I said because their English isn’t great. They just stopped talking because they could tell I was piiiiiiissed. One kid finally piped up, “Uh, what?” Brilliant. Inside, I’m semi-horrified that I pulled the “I’m American and I’m doing this my way” card (way to be tolerant of cultural differences) and completely relieved that everyone shut up. Five weeks later, they still know I mean business. That doesn’t mean they shut up on the first try. Dian observed me last week, and by the time the students actually came into the classroom and calmed down, we were about thirty minutes into the forty-five minute block. However, I do recognize something slightly resembling respect from them. To work on peer editing and modals, I had the tenth and eleventh graders write me letters of advice. “I like that you don’t let us be lazy.” “I like that you make us listen.” Hey, cool. They actually think it’s positive for me to call kids out for doodling. Of course, anyone reading this who observed me in our Thursday 5-9 class knows that I do not practice what I preach. But keep that on the DL.
Now that I look like a raging jerk, I will say that I adore the students here. They work SO HARD. I cannot imagine reading Don Quixote in Spanish and Macbeth in English at the same time. But somehow they truck through it all. They listen to what I have to say, and they are engaged in the material. Also- I hate to say this, but they are so darn cute! Not the eleventh graders, chill out. I mean the little ones wandering around.
Oh right, that brings me back to classroom management. Now that it’s rainy season, we get horrific storms every afternoon. You know when a storm hits, because you hear blood-curling screams from the preschool. There are usually one or two stranglers that just run aimlessly by my room screaming. Of course, they aren’t really scared at the thunder and lightning. It’s just an excuse to be SO LOUD. The first time it happened, I pretty much wet my pants. Imagine pouring rain through the courtyard and children flailing around like the world is about to end. Total and utter chaos. Classroom management. Gotta love it.
Seven fifteen.
I climb off the bus, eyeing the adorable little boy in the front row. I am going to steal him before I leave this country. Not sure how, but it’s going to happen. I meander to my classroom and unlock the door. Erase the chalkboard. Set up my computer and try to connect to the completely unreliable internet. Straighten the desks. Satisfied with the way things are set up, I plop into my chair and review my first period lesson plan. Tenth grade means we’re reading Gatsby. I open up the jazz piece I plan on opening with. I write the lyrics out across the board. I check to make sure the song will stream decently. I write out my opening questions about the Jazz Age.
Seven thirty.
The bell rings, indicating that the school day has started. I look up at the clock, but not much else happens. I size up my handwriting on the board. It’s written with some sidewalk chalk I found in my craft box, so it’s not my best work. However, it’ll do for this morning. Marjorie walks by to check in on our social schedule for the rest of the week. We talk briefly, and then she moves onto her class.
Seven forty-five.
Two kids wander in. The other five students eventually make their way through the courtyard into the classroom. Around seven fifty, I start class.
Right, I can see that anyone knowing the basics of classroom management is going into cardiac arrest right now. How can you start class twenty minutes late? What are you thinking? Well, my friends, welcome to Tico Time. Time does not exist in this country. I’m pretty positive that’s why I have eleven periods every day. It makes up for the fact we waste so much time! Ironically, students are graded on their arrival time to class. I saw the grades of my eleventh graders- big fat E’s. They don’t care, it’s not like that’s going to keep them from passing on to the next grade. I think this is the point that really made me realize I wasn’t in America. Yeah, the textbooks are the same, the lesson strategies I use are comparable, but the classroom management, whoaaaa boy.
The first week I almost lost my mind. The eighth graders were rocking their desks back until they fell over on my second day. I didn’t have a mentor teacher so I couldn’t say “IS THIS NORMAL?” So, I dealt with the issue in the best manner I know- Sue Sylvester style.
“SIT DOWN NOW. SIT. YOU. SIT. DOWN. YOU ALL NEED TO GET QUIET RIGHT NOW. I AM SO SERIOUS. DO I LOOK LIKE I’M JOKING? NO. I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU NORMALLY ACT IN HERE BUT THIS IS MY CLASSROOM NOW AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE THE WAY YOU ARE ACTING.” (Pause to slam down a desk that is hovering mid-air) “I WOULD NOT ACCEPT THIS BEHAVIOR IN MY CLASSROOM IN THE UNITED STATES. AND GUESS WHAT? YOU ARE JUST AS SMART AS THEY ARE. YOU ARE JUST AS CAPABLE OF FOLLOWING DIRECTIONS. SO I’M NOT PUTTING UP WITH THIS FOR ANOTHER MINUTE. YOU WILL BE HELD TO MY STANDARDS BECAUSE I KNOW STUDENTS YOUR AGE ARE CAPABLE OF MEETING THEM.”
I pause. The students are taken aback completely for two reasons. One- teachers don’t DO that. Teachers aren’t big on classroom management here and never really use grown up voices. Two- half of the kids have no idea what I said because their English isn’t great. They just stopped talking because they could tell I was piiiiiiissed. One kid finally piped up, “Uh, what?” Brilliant. Inside, I’m semi-horrified that I pulled the “I’m American and I’m doing this my way” card (way to be tolerant of cultural differences) and completely relieved that everyone shut up. Five weeks later, they still know I mean business. That doesn’t mean they shut up on the first try. Dian observed me last week, and by the time the students actually came into the classroom and calmed down, we were about thirty minutes into the forty-five minute block. However, I do recognize something slightly resembling respect from them. To work on peer editing and modals, I had the tenth and eleventh graders write me letters of advice. “I like that you don’t let us be lazy.” “I like that you make us listen.” Hey, cool. They actually think it’s positive for me to call kids out for doodling. Of course, anyone reading this who observed me in our Thursday 5-9 class knows that I do not practice what I preach. But keep that on the DL.
Now that I look like a raging jerk, I will say that I adore the students here. They work SO HARD. I cannot imagine reading Don Quixote in Spanish and Macbeth in English at the same time. But somehow they truck through it all. They listen to what I have to say, and they are engaged in the material. Also- I hate to say this, but they are so darn cute! Not the eleventh graders, chill out. I mean the little ones wandering around.
Oh right, that brings me back to classroom management. Now that it’s rainy season, we get horrific storms every afternoon. You know when a storm hits, because you hear blood-curling screams from the preschool. There are usually one or two stranglers that just run aimlessly by my room screaming. Of course, they aren’t really scared at the thunder and lightning. It’s just an excuse to be SO LOUD. The first time it happened, I pretty much wet my pants. Imagine pouring rain through the courtyard and children flailing around like the world is about to end. Total and utter chaos. Classroom management. Gotta love it.
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