Thursday, June 20, 2013

They make me want to cry sometimes.

The boys do. Not all of them. I wrote before about how one class was just harder to deal with than the other ones. And it is always that way. I thought I had them beat, today, I didn't bring any fun things to the morning class, even though the other classes were allowed to use the extra paper and pencil crayons. I made them go over grammar rules. "Miss, miss, we know this," they would cry out, so I told them it should be very easy and go very quickly then. It didn't. I reviewed nouns and pronouns, then the difference between proper and common nouns. They sat, watching blankly, not caring. Not interested, not answering.

I moved on to some of the rules to turn nouns plural. They told me they knew it too, so I put words on the board and asked them how to make them plural. Only one boy paid attention, the others pulling bags out and sketching in their notebooks and generally ignoring me.

Thank cod when class ended. I moved on and had better experiences in the other classes. After lunch, they are the last class I teach (try to teach) each day. The first day I was here, the head Llama told me I could skip classes each day if I wanted. I didn't think I would, but now, I am holding on to that allowance for this coming week. Just in case. Today I didn't skip, though, I entered the class and handed out small pieces of paper and told them to draw, read, whatever, as long as they were quiet. The one boy who really seems to care wanted help with his reading and I was glad to give it.

We sat in the front of the room and he read to me while I helped him sound out the difficult words, and the rest of the students in class 2 joked and drew and basically ignored me. For a while. When we were done two stories, one of the 'head' troublemakers, if you would call them troublemakers, came up with a different book and asked if he could have a turn. I said yes, and he read with less trouble than the other boy, but still needing some help and obviously craving some attention. I congratulated on how well he read, and another boy asked to read. He needed lots of help, but I am happy to do it; I love to read and have loved it my whole life. If I can help someone else learn to love reading English, I will. It is why I thought I would be good at teaching the boys.

After the third boy, the first wanted to read again, and the rest of the room was drawing and laughing to themselves. One of the monklets wanted pages from the kindergarten workbook I had in my bag. I told him no, it was too simple for him and for the youngest boys' class. He frowned, but continued turning pages. I said he could draw the page, if he wanted, but then he asked for a different page from the same book. I explained no, and why, but he continued to do it again and again with different pages.

When I finally said no, no pages, and put the book away, he sat at his desk with his friend. While I assisted with reading, they got in a small argument that I didn't notice. Then one was crying and the other was laughing in a very mean way. I asked the boy I was helping read to wait and investigated the situation.

No one would tell me what happened, no one would explain, so after quickly glancing at my watch I announced no more drawing/colouring and that everyone had to hand me the crayons. I was so exhausted with dealing with the constant chatter in a different language that I (without yelling or being really mean) told them they wouldn't get to draw or colour tomorrow if they did not behave. If they did not listen in class tomorrow morning, I would not have paper or pencils for them to use.

Then, the bell (which is actually a gong) was rung for class to end. I packed up the rest of my things and started to leave, when the first boy, the one who is always interested and well behaved and good, came up to me smiling. "Thank you Miss," he said, gesturing to the book I was helping him read.

It made me feel a little better.

Still, I hurried with my water and bag upstairs to my room. I grabbed my computer from the desk it was charging on and turned on the fan, watching the rest of a new episode of The Venture Bros I was able to download last night (successful torrent, woot!)

I hate feeling like I am hiding away and not socializing, but sometimes I just can't deal with the feelings of futility that come after I teach. Attempt to teach. Waste time in the classroom. Sigh

Oh well.

Tomorrow I am going to tr and teach about computers. Parts of a computer, powering on and off, what QWERTY means, as well as the Internet. Just theory, as the only computer I have to show will be my sad little net book (sad because I am so bad to it and it deserves so much more love and respect than I give it). Then comes Saturday, which I think I may skip altogether (it is a half day and I may make some excuse about walking into Lakeside to set up my adventure for Sunday). I don't know what my adventure for Sunday will be, and knowing my goals here I probably won't ski Saturday anyway.

But having the option makes dealing much, much easier.

Again, if anything, this has made me appreciate my teacher friends all the more. When I was a student, I LOVED to learn. I loved school and being good and doing whatever the teacher asked. However, I have now realized that many students are not like I was. They don't care, or have other interests, or whatever but it makes life for teachers very difficult. You guys rock, teachers, you really do.

And, like usual, I am surviving.

Namaste, friends.

Laura

2 comments:

  1. That is the way most students are. However you have connected with a few, which is always important. You can't save everyone, but you can make a difference for a few. That is what mission work is all about. Lovya, Mom

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    Replies
    1. That is what I am holding on to. Love you too Mom.

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