well would you look at that... I'm a teacher

Alright, alright... It's time to talk about the real action! 

So. I got a month deep before receiving an official schedule at my school, meaning that my introduction to formal teaching was wild, unpredictable, and wonderful. The one native English speaker in the school (who is the 5th and 6th year teacher and also happens to be the bilingual coordinator) was on maternity leave for the first month, and her substitute did not speak English. We’re still missing a permanent teacher for 1st and 2nd year, and the guy filling in had never taught before and also did not sign up to teach English!! This meant that I immediately had a much larger role in the classroom than I had been expecting. Though it was very stressful to be thrown off the deep end with admittedly very little prior experience, I think it was the best thing for the development of my confidence and my bonds with my students. Instead of someone who just sits in the back and observes, I think they see me as more of a legitimate teacher, and our mutual respect has grown markedly. 

unexpected/unexplained double half rainbow seen during my walk to work

As everyone who survived an elementary education probably knows, teaching is rarely glamorous. I was a member of an elementary school class with a bad reputation, and now I really feel the pain of our poor teachers who tried everything to maintain order. Even as an empathetic teacher’s pet, you don’t realize how frustrating it is to be in a chaotic classroom until you’re legitimately in their shoes, trying to get a point across. Some kids are listening intently, others are quiet but in their own little worlds, and still others are fighting, yelling, and running around. I’ve had a few tear-my-hair-out moments, compounded by the fact that my younger students do not understand me at all when I’m asking them to behave. In order to encourage English use, they are not supposed to know that I speak or even understand Spanish, which I have found to be a debatable teaching strategy in general. In terms of behavioral policing, “please be quiet!” just doesn’t have the same effect as a biting “si quieren, CALLAR!!!”

Of course, some classes are more challenging than others, and a lot depends on the time of day. For example, my 1st year students (~6 year olds) are baby angels first thing in the morning, but would drive nearly anyone to drink in the last hour of the day. Regardless of the hour, I’ve had a particularly challenging time with my 2nd year class, which has about four ~difficult~ students whereas other groups have just one or two. Yesterday was actually the first time I felt like we had a slight breakthrough—their behavior was a little bit better and the majority demonstrated a good grasp on the vocabulary we’ve been building over the past month.

Recently, in my younger classes, I’ve tried taking students aside during free moments for one-on-one conversations on the balcony. This has helped both parties exponentially. For one, I can quickly gauge levels of understanding and see what content each student hasn’t grasped yet. I can also personalize our relationship a little bit more—rather than just being the talking head at the front of the class, I can ask questions specific to the student and make them laugh. I also cheat a little bit and throw in some Spanish if I know they’re not understanding me, which I think humanizes me more in their minds. Finally, at the end of our conversations, I like to elicit a pinky-promise from my more challenging students that they will behave and listen to me. The success rate isn’t 100%, but things are a hell of a lot better than they were when we started. 

me being a very relatable human teacher fending off a sneeze next to a cactus

Luckily, for every frustrating/difficult moment, I can count five moments that made my heart feel fit to burst. Some students latched onto me immediately, particularly those who already speak English quite well. Others were on board after about a week. The ones that really get me, though, are those who open up after we speak one-on-one. The other day, I spoke to a girl in 2nd year who routinely shut down and glared at me when I called on her in class or tried to nudge her in the right direction on worksheets. Out on the balcony, we spoke about her Hello Kitty earrings, her family in Germany, and her pretty dress. Part way through the conversation, she put her hands on my knees as she was talking. When I walked into the classroom the next day, she ran up and gave me a big hug for the first time. 

I’ve noticed that my students generally demonstrate trust through physical gestures like these. The most engaged and open kids give me hugs and high fives every day. When I kneel down to talk to students at their desks, they’ll often lay their hands on mine while they ask a question. My most endearing example came one day when I pulled out Sergio, one of my most entertaining 1st year students. As one of the smallest and youngest of the bunch, Sergio routinely melts my heart but couldn’t give less of a damn about English. His focus in class is non-existent. He knows I’m not supposed to be able to understand Spanish, but rambles on at length to me anyway in the most adorable squeaky voice. On the first day, when my co-teacher Roboam asked the class to draw a picture of the two of us, Sergio drew a penguin. “Penguin” happens to be the only English word I have successfully taught him. I noticed one day that he was struggling with a worksheet on colors, so I pulled him out onto the balcony for a chat. As we slowly worked through the sheet, he climbed onto my lap and tucked his head under my chin, displaying physical trust for the first time. To say I melted would be an understatement. Now, when we do group activities like meditation or dancing, he plants himself directly in front of me and won’t budge. 

To help reinforce the vocab we've been building, I had the kids come up to the board to draw a random animal with a random number of one body part (i.e. A Shark With Six Eyes), as dictated by me. Here, the master himself works on a Penguin With Five Legs. 

During the first-day portrait drawing activity mentioned above, I also came to know Enzo, one of my true standout students. Earlier in the day, I prompted him to count to 10 with me in English. He didn’t take a full breath until he’d reached 50, so I knew something good was up with this kid. As I was walking around to see the drawings of Roboam + Phoebe, Enzo’s caught my eye:

For comparison, here’s what I looked like that day: 

My current aesthetic is basically just to look like I google image searched "teacher" and dressed like what popped up

It’s important to note that this 6-year old captured every detail of our appearances—the colors and designs of our clothes, my blue eyes, my (slight but exaggerated) height advantage over Rob, his beard and arm/leg hair, and my freckles. I was blown away, and sure enough, Enzo has continued to amaze me. He speaks to me only in English, and I can see his little gears turning as he chews over a question and thinks up an answer. He also spelled CHAMPION and PINEAPPLE yesterday without my help. If I had to make a list of Things I’d Look Into If Given A Crystal Ball, Enzo’s future would be top 10. 

One more little thing I’ve noticed about these kids that has captured my heart is what they do when left to their own devices. There are individually charming behaviors, of course—for example, I have one first grade student who loves to look at himself in the mirror. I always catch him turned around in his seat, smiling at his reflection. But what really gets me is what happens when I turn the class loose on a creative activity like drawing. Many students talk to their neighbors and run around to borrow colors, and the ambient noise inevitably builds. The majority of the sound, however, is singing. It stopped me in my tracks on the first day—at least half of the students in the classroom were immersed in their artwork and singing their own special songs. This wasn’t an isolated event, either—idle musicality just seems to be the thing here. Maybe my teacher friends in the United States have noticed something similar—either way, it’s so precious. Equally entertaining but maybe less precious was when I asked my second grade students to sing me a song on the first day, and a group of boys gathered in a circle and chanted “DAME TU COSITA, UH UH” in the stylings of this video: 

But this is all just a regular day at school.

The view from the balconies