I need a break already...

Greeting
Tuesday, 8 June, 2010

About a year ago, maybe more, maybe less, time is just the passing of the sun and the moon, another volunteer told me that he was going to go back to America, walk through a city and greet everyone he saw - those he knew and especially those he didn’t. I told him that I would go back to America, probably not go to a city ever again, and walk around looking at the ground, relishing not greeting anyone.

That conversation has run through my head a lot lately.

It’ll be strange not to greet strangers; to just walk around doing my own thing, not taking the small amount of time to look someone in the eye and say at least hi.

When you go to work, do you greet everyone everyday the first time you see them? Today was the first day without a staff briefing - we decided we’d have only 2 a week from now on. So we all got to school very scattered, didn’t convene in the staff room, and met each other randomly throughout the day. But we always started the conversation with “good morning, how are you?” Does this happen in the US?

And when you go to a meeting - of any kind, but particularly a work meeting - and there are people already seated in the room when you enter, and it’s the first time you’re seeing any of them that day, do you greet them each individually, do you greet the whole room with a single greeting, or do you take your seat and pretend there is no one else there?

Learners
Tuesday, 8 June, 2010

Kashako Karware - He was in my register class, 6B, in 2009. He never stuck out much, except that he was taller than most other kids. He was also about 3 years older than most of the other kids in the class. He’s still both of those. But at some point in 2009, I got through to him. He started doing his homework regularly - not well, but at least doing it. He started coming to study regularly - and making noise, but coming. But this year, he just cracks me up. He’s in 7A - his English is pretty bad, giving him less of a chance of making it out of his current living situation. I told Nicky one day, “That kid always makes me laugh.” She had no idea why. I don’t know if I even know why. He’s gone through puberty when many of his classmates haven’t, so I can always pick out his voice even if my back is turned or I’m busy doing something and it seems like I’m not paying attention to what’s going on. When I say his name to remind him to be quiet, he always responds with, “Madam.” His smile is so goofy. And his laugh is contagious. This term though, he’s already surprised me with his high quiz scores. It’s been great so far and will only get better teaching him.

Gideon Andrias - This is his first year at our school. Last year he was in Ovamboland, so his Thimbukushu isn’t so good - his first language is Oshiwambo, not many people speak that here. In the first term, he was trying to cope with a new school, a new village, a new language and a new style of learning math from a white teacher who probably spoke too fast for him to keep up. It showed. He failed the first term miserably. I hardly ever saw him smile. I couldn’t really figure out who his friends were. I was worried about him. I do multiplication flash cards individually during study, and he was never so into the competition that is set up between the classes and then between the learners in each class with a sticker chart to track their progress publicly. I saw him a few times in passing over the holiday in the few days I was around, and we always greeted each other - he always had a big smile on his face. This evening, after walking Nicky half way home and walking home quickly before it got completely dark, I ran into him, again with that big smile and an easy greeting. His math has improved more than almost anyone else’s - he was much lower than most, but his enthusiasm and willingness to try has also improved as much. Today, he made two mistakes on his flash cards and kept pestering me to do it again. Sorry, only one chance a day, you can do it again tomorrow. His passion is finally at par with everyone else’s in the class, if not higher.

Kambango Clementine - She’s in 7A. She’s smart. I knew that last year in grade 6 too. But she always seemed a little scared last year. Maybe it’s the age difference, or just growing up and I’ve had nothing to do with it, but it’s been really empowering to see her become empowered; to become comfortable with her smarts and be more vocal in class. She’s made a few jokes and every time I’m surprised it’s coming from her. Today in class, after a few easier examples, I put the sentence, “Fine 2/5 of one year in days.” The previous example had dealt with days and hours, so her answer was 288. I’ve gotten pretty good at figuring out where wrong answers come from, but this one, I had no idea. I asked how she got it: 24 x 12. OK. That still offered no help. Where did those numbers come from? There had been some other learners who had agreed with her answer, but most people we laughing at this point; Clementine was too. There are 24 hours in a day. OK. And then I figured out where the 12 came from - 12 months in a year. At least she’s thinking.

Murerwa Petrina (Yondo) - I had a hard time learning her name in grade 6. Finally, after spending many periods with them in PE, I realized everyone called her Yondo. And Yondo she became to me. She was not a good math learner in grade 6. She would cheat on quizzes. She would copy other peoples’ homework. She didn’t seem to put in any effort. When the other grade 7 teachers wanted her in the faster class, I was a little disappointed. She would not have gone in there if it was based solely on math ability. But somewhere in term 1, she turned things around. She knows her math this year. She might not be at the top of the class with test or exam results, but she can hold her own in class, can answer any question I pose to the class, or to her individually. She’s a class clown, always attracting attention somehow, but that energy is usually put toward math when I’m in there. Separating the levels, which mostly put friends with friends, has done wonders for 7A. They’re with people they’re comfortable with, people who challenge them to do better and who they can keep up with, and my positive attitude toward math, teaching and the learners in general has made a huge difference in the results I’ve seen so far this year.

But Madam, what about us?
Wednesday, 9 June, 2010

I am tired. Not just today. At least this whole week. I’m tired. Let me say it again. I’m tired.

Teaching every period means that I’m on my feet from 7-12:50, an hour for lunch and then on my feet again from 2-4. I wear Chacos everyday and spend the whole day standing on cement floors. Lately I’ve been wearing sock in the morning even. It’s a fashion statement - socks and sandals. My hips hurt. My knees hurt. My ankles hurt. My back hurts. My shoulders hurt. My neck hurts. My feet hurt. Sometimes I feel like the only time I get to sit down is at the 9:40 break when I quickly go to my house to use the toilet. That’s how I felt today and yesterday. And tomorrow won’t be much different.

I don’t mind teaching all day, I enjoy teaching, or at least hanging out with my learners, which is kind of how I try to make class. I’d rather be teaching than not having anything to do, which is kind of how my free periods go.

Today at study I found myself with only 1 other teacher. All of the management and grade 10 teachers were in a meeting. About grade 10. Some teachers were at the culture practice, another was at netball tryouts. I was one of two teachers. I tried to still do the flashcards I do everyday. Hardly any of my learners were even present - they were either dodging, at netball or at culture. And all the learners who WERE present were out of the classrooms or making noise. And every time I walked into a classroom, all I heard was “But Madam, what about us?” Everyone wanted to do the flashcards. I was trying to keep kids in their classrooms, making minimal noise, and doing individual flashcards.

I almost cried. I gave up and went and sat in the shade.

Then grades 8-10 were released from their meeting with the priest about becoming priests and nuns. And none of their teachers were around, so they all left - the learners I mean. So then grades 5-7 were even more anxious to leave.

I interrupted the meeting and asked for them to be released from study.

They were.

Sometimes it’s just too much. But madam, what about us? I feel like the teachers even have that attitude.

I will not be selling Tango for phones once this batch is sold off. I hate being interrupted in classes, I hate selling on credit because somehow everyone spends all of their money after the first week of getting paid. I will spend all of that money on school fees for needy learners. I don’t want to have extra money around. I will not be lending money anymore. Most people pay me back, but I’ve definitely lost some money because of it - some that I don’t even know about because I’m always frantically trying to maintain my lesson while I’m handing someone recharge for their phone.

I gave away two sweatshirts today to two of my learners. They didn’t have one, and I had extras. Sure, I’d wear them again one day if I had them, but it doesn’t really matter. I have more than enough, still, so will continue giving clothes away to kids I know need it. It’s funny to teach a class with kids who are wearing my old clothes.

I always ask who’s cold when I get warm enough from standing and being excited in my teaching and have to take my jacket off. There’s always a taker for my pre-warmed fleece jacket. The first time, kids laughed when I did that, but now it’s a fight for who will get to wear it.

I’m just tired.

Dodging study now now
Thursday, 10 June, 2010

I know there was something good that happened this morning, I know because I sent Kaitlin an sms before school started that said, “I’m happy.” Happiness isn’t something I’m used to - contentment, satisfaction, sure. But actual happiness? It’s a fleeting emotion.

I started my first 2 classes with something from my culture. It doesn’t happen often that I say, “In my culture…” or “Do you want to know something from my culture?” because I’m so enthralled by THIS culture that I’m not even sure what I grew up with anymore that these kids don’t know. But looking around, and after a quiet greeting, I could tell at least half of the class was cold and not wanting to be in math class.

OK, everyone stand up. We’re going to learn something from my culture so we can warm up. [First I tried to explain why moving around makes you warmed, probably shouldn’t have wasted that time.] First stand with your feet together and your hands at your sides. Everyone did that. Then, we’re going to jump so our feet are apart and our hands are together over our heads; I demonstrated. Then we’re going to go back to how we started; I demonstrated again. Laughter ensued and everyone’s first jumping jack. Then we’re going to do them fast. They’re called Jumping Jacks.

We did that for about 30 seconds, to get everyone laughing, their blood moving a little bit and excited about being in math class. It accomplished all of those things.

Now we’re a little warmer? Just a little? Yes!!! Doubtful, but I’ll take it.

I taught all 6 of my periods - no 6B today. But there was no teacher for 6B when I was free, so I gave them extra review problems and then hid in the computer lab to write tomorrow’s tests on flipchart papers. Kids still managed to find me in there. When I walked back into 6B toward the end of the day, I was greeted by the most chaotic classroom I’ve ever entered - kids running around, more noise than from a birthday party. It was ridiculous. Yesterday at the end of the day, 2 kids asked if I was going home. Yes. Home to America? Oh, no. But they know I’m near the end of my patience. I yelled at them again today. And by yell, well, you know me and know that I can’t actually yell at anyone. But it was my tone of voice that got them to shut up. And maybe the fact that I was near tears in front of them. Again.

I was dreading study. I already knew I wasn’t going to do flashcards, I’m just stretched too thin right now for that. I taught 7B instead. They needed a little extra review for their test, so I spent another 40 minutes with them. Then I needed to hide. I went to the culture practice and tried to help, but just ended up causing more problems, so left there too. I got back to school and was immediately bombarded with at least 5 kids coming to me with some request - madam, check these problems; madam, flashcards (with jumping in front of my face); madam, someone needs recharge; madam, help me a plastic to cover my book; madam, help me scissors; madam, what about x9 flashcards?; madam, a pencil; madam, change for N$20; madam, madam, madam, madam. I answered a few of them. I kept walking. I tried to ignore as much as I could. I was almost crying because I WANT to help these kids. I know I AM helping them, and these are such small things they’re asking for. But it’s too much right now.

I left study 30 minutes early because I just couldn’t do anything anymore, I couldn’t see kids, I couldn’t pretend to want to tell them to be quiet, I couldn’t pretend that I was going to teach, I couldn’t handle anything at all.

If I was tired yesterday, I’m exhausted today. Thank God tomorrow is Friday.