This week, I learned. I resolved at the start of this school year that yelling would not happen in my classrooms. I would be firm and loving and energetic and everything a good teacher should be, and the kids would listen and smile and laugh and learn everything a good student should. Obviously, I knew it would take time for me and them to adjust, but we'd all come around eventually.
I didn't realize my voice would give out before we did.
On Tuesday, while teaching 5th and 6th grade English, I told the kids that they had to be quiet and sit in their seats because I was teaching them new words and I couldn't shout anymore. I just couldn't. They quieted down a bit, long enough for them to learn a little something and for me to ask God for patience.
"Tee-chair." That's what they call me, with a little roll on the "r." It's cute, I just wish they wouldn't say it so loudly sometimes. "TEE-CHAIRRR!" Oh. Not right in my ear.
The problem with quinto y sexto is not totally that the kids are disobedient and disrespectful. Every kid can be those things, sometimes. But they just make so much noise, and then forget to listen to the teacher. "Prestame tu lápiz? (Lend me your pencil?) Quién tiene mi cuaderno? (Who has my notebook?) Dejame. (Leave me alone.) Sabe la respuesta? (Do you know the answer?) Cómo se escribe 'ropa' en inglés? (How do you write 'clothes' in English?)" That's the noise. All 15 of them, chattering at once. Why are you out of your chair? I ask. "I need to sharpen my pencil." Okay, he has a good reason, but he's just another little person walking around and asking questions and distracting the others.
I find myself wishing I had taken a TEFL course or something. I can start getting frustrated with myself and the school and the curriculum and everything. Often I find myself asking, "God, WHY ME." The books that the kids are using are far above their level of understanding, so I have been making up my own lessons to try and get them a little caught up in the simpler things. If I try and use the book, it usually ends up in more chaos and confusion and noise -- eight different kids shouting at once, "Tee-chair, vení! I have a question!"
One parent asked me if we were planning on using the book or if her daughter was just skipping the homework, because her book was empty. Nope, I'm just not using it. I could tell from the mother's face that she was going to ask if I was wasting the 400 lempiras she spent on MegaFlash, so I explained that we will use it after I teach a few basics. She seemed okay with that.
The reality is, there are a LOT of basics that we would need to go over before the kids would really understand their book. I keep thinking that I can just skip the harder things, but as I flip through MegaFlash, I realize that everything is a "harder thing" for them. Frustration.
But they're learning. Yesterday, Emanuel finished writing his 10 frases before some of the others had even started. Oh, actually, he wrote 30. Good kid. Then he asked me to "reviselo." I got out my red pen and checked all 30 sentences. Then I scribbled my name at the top of the paper, underlined it, and drew a quick star. "Dame cinco puntos!" Okay. 5 points for you. How you grade their work is very important to the children.
The rest of the kids, even the slower ones, all finished up and got their five points. It took some prodding and quieting and explaining, but they finished, and they're learning. This time at the end of class, everyone got a confite. As soon as I stood by the door and got out the bag, they all rushed over. Hagan fila! They made the best line they could and one by one I gave them a piece of candy.
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It's 8:10pm and it's windy and pouring rain and almost chilly enough for me to wear my hoodie. I think I will.
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One of my students, Marcos, got bored in class because he finished his work first, so he started writing sentences of his own. The first one made me laugh.
Here's my prayer: that God would use me in those kids lives to show his love to them. I sometimes wonder how me telling them twenty times to sit down and finish writing their sentences will give them any sort of idea of God's love. But I know He put me here. I know He's with me. I know He will work through me. I know He loves me. I know He loves them.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing...As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love." John 15:5, 9
