I just realized I forgot to document the most ridiculous thing about my homestay. It took me a while to realize this, but they have an extra-special chopstick-spoon set just for me. I am not permitted to use anything else, and no one else would even dream of using my lovely burnt orange maple leaf silverware. It's so silly! But I'm glad they are clearly so glad to have me. I have heard from other ETAs who weren't so welcomed into their new homes. I am really fortunate to have such support in my home (not to mention in my school....we've already covered that!)
I taught three fabulous lessons to four classes today. I am definitely thinking now that I need to ditch the lame books we have. They are really intended as crutches for teachers who don't really know English, and since I clearly do, I can come up with better material. I had only used them in the first place because I felt I was expected to. I mean, it is easier for me to just follow a lesson plan that is already mapped out for me (complete with students' cheesy responses), but I really can't stand seeing the look of bored disinterest in their eyes. It's been a bit difficult to figure out what exactly I am expected and even permitted to do in the school, but after two weeks of teaching, it seems that I am basically allowed to do what I want, as long as the students learn something. I haven't heard any feedback from any teachers or administrators, good or bad, so I'm just assuming I am doing okay. My co-teacher has told me a few times about students who have said they now enjoy English (and they hated it before), which I think is meant as a compliment. Basically, they don't seem to care what I do, which is perfect for me. It's not like I will ever slack on the job. It's been an interesting journey to figure all this out, though. In the beginning, I was told I would be team-teaching, but as things have progressed, I have essentially become the only teacher. I don't mean to diss the other teachers...in fact, a few do try to be an active part of class. But there are already a few who either do other things during English or disappear entirely. And that's fine with me...immersion is probably best, anyway, because on the other hand there are those teachers who translate everything I say, including the things I am trying to teach! So this weekend, I plan to seriously revamp my lesson plans for third through sixth grade (the classes that use the book). Now that I've taught them each three lessons from the book, I have a better idea of what they are supposed to learn and can now come up with some ideas of how to reach the same goals, but in a fun way that does not involve mindless "Listen and Repeat." Exciting, I know. I am actually excited to do it. Teaching seems to satisfy the creative impulse I never thought I had and I've actually had fun making lesson plans and seeing them work out in class. Then there are those days they don't work....well, mostly they just motivate me to work harder and the next day's lessons are much better. I am definitely working really hard (more than 40 hours per week, for sure), but I am sure it will calm down as I become more accustomed to teaching in general and the students in particular. Right now, I just feel a need to prepare for everything and it takes me a long time because I am not used to this type of work. Plus, I am making a lot of learning materials (mostly alphabet stuff). The other ETAs laugh at my "work" because it involves a lot of coloring and cutting, but it's seriously time-consuming and somewhat difficult because I still have to find things the children enjoy!
This other ETA posted a link to a poem today that I read and liked. It by some dude named Taylor Mali and is called "What Teachers Make, or Objection Overruled, or If things don't work out, you can always go to law school." It goes as follows:
He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about
teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.
I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.
Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.
"I mean, you¹re a teacher, Taylor," he says.
"Be honest. What do you make?"
And I wish he hadn't done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.
You want to know what I make?
I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time with anything less than your very best.
I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?
Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why.
I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.
I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.
You want to know what I make?
I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write, write, write.
And then I make them read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely
beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either one of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).
Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I make a goddamn difference! What about you?
Okay, so maybe it's a bit lofty now. I am certainly not the best teacher, and perhaps I am not working intellectual miracles. But it's something to shoot for!