So, here we are. Its been about seven weeks, and I'm feeling rather comfortable with where I'm at and what I'm doing here. I'm starting to see deeper into the mechanics of a classroom, I'm finally getting set, regular classes, and my students are starting to get used to me. I'm also getting pretty good at looking up from the canned material I'm presented with and working outside of it, instead of being a slave to it. Still not perfect at it, but getting better.
And I'm starting to see what kind of teacher I could be now that we have a full complement of Americans running the show (sorta). Myself, Mc D, and Mad Max (names changed to protect the guilty) are three points on a spectrum of temperament. I'm sort of a head down, don't make waves, go with the flow kinda guy. Okay, yea sure, and meh are my typical responses to most situations. Mc D is kind of middle of the road - mellow, restrained, but not one to settle, and full of things he'd like to see different. He has more experience than I do in management, and don't take no shit. I admit, after he got here, I felt like I'd been kind of a doormat this whole time, especially after he knocked over a desk to get a class in order. And our most recent addition is, as I like to call him, Mad Max. Because he's a road warrior that doesn't give a damn. He's been in this whole English game for going on five years, which by Korean standards makes him an expert and a seasoned vet. On top of his experience he packs a short temper and no qualms about speaking his mind. I mean, sometimes his brashness and lack of tact makes me squirm more than a little, just because I'm associated with him. But he's a bold sort with many valid points, and like I always say, dissent is beneficial in the end. He makes me wonder if I'm being too soft on the kids.
Either way, work has its ups and downs. I'm currently struggling with how to get through to four students lumped together in a lower div kindergarten class. One knows virtually NO English. He just can't respond to any of my questions, and frankly in my opinion he needs to be in a one on one environment before he re joins a classroom. Next up is what I suspect the youngest girl in any of my classes. She can respond to my questions, but I'll be damned if she has the attention span to do so. I mean, I get that she's a little kid, and she learns, but its hard getting her to participate. Next up is a boy who's pretty smart, and my only complaint is that he can be kind of shy. Then there's our star pupil, the one being held back by all of them. I think it might be time to bump her up a notch. She's reading pretty regularly, can do so at a competitive speed, and always has her hand up. This small class spans such a range that its hard to work on one level at a time. Ha, I guess its good for me, right?
Then there's my second favorite class (in all seriousness). They must be in fourth or fifth grade, and before I'd swore them off, but damnit they know a lot when you quiz them in the right areas. Or at least they know a lot more than I though compared to my first impressions of them. And you know what, I care about their education. Somebody at the bars said that that was the key to teaching, and I know what they mean. I really care about two or three of my current classes' education, and they're the ones I'd take a bullet for. They're the ones that I want to teach. They're the ones I'm rooting for every day when I come in, and every month when I run testing. These kids in particular, I want them to blow the curve and come away fluent.
Then, of course, there's my cancer class. The benchwarmers. The class which has, for the most part, average students, but is also disproportionately filled with mediocre students, mostly in the attentive, respectful and willing to learn categories. Three of them are just blatant, flat out cancer. These kids don't care, and they don't respect me enough to shut the fuck up for forty minutes while I work with everyone else. One is a genuinely good kid, but has the attention span of an ant and the memory of a goldfish (why did my mini-me have to be in this class of all classes??!). Oh, and a booming voice. Yea. I know. Good kid though. Be damned he'd speak better English if he were able to shut up and listen. I blame two of the other three, but as I think about it more its not that simple. Really, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if it can be attributed to the few, or just how I handled it the first week or two. I'm thinking both. Either way, I'd really love nothing more than to pack a paintball gun to that class. A paintball gun filled with pepper balls.
But overall, I feel good about things. My kindy kids keep me sane (even if they do occasionally drive me up the walls), especially when my Monkey comes running up demanding I lift her up so she can bury her face into my collar and hang from my neck, or when little B does a flying out-of-nowhere hug. I had to laugh today because Johnny H gave me a peck on the cheek, and I proceeded to think the following, "That was sweet. I hope he's not gay, that would be weird." And while overall I don't always feel like I'm slaying dragons, at least I know its something I can do for a year or two.
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