Lessons From the First Trimester

Attractive...

I sprang out of bed on Friday morning and slipped into my awaiting collared shirt and skinny black jeans that double as dress pants. My attempt to put the hair in a bun was about as fruitless as always as I have yet to master the art, leaving loose strands flying behind me. In any case, the parents coming to the parent-teacher conferences that day would be far more distracted by the tie I chose than unkempt hair. I was wearing the M&M’s tie absconded from my father long ago, the one that all my kids love to see. I started a tradition of all the male teachers wearing ties on Mondays (lunes de corbata), and some kids in my sixth grade homeroom wanted me to wear it for conferences. So picture all the teachers awaiting students and their parents to welcome them into our classrooms, everyone looking spiffed to the nines in their suits and slicked hair. Now picture a kid, taller than everyone else, with armpit-length hair scrunched into a bun that makes ten year old girls in his own classes scoff, a lime green dress shirt that was most recently used as part of a pea pod costume, and a tie with anthropomorphized chocolate candies making various faces at the admirer. Then, try to imagine parents taking him seriously when he tells them that their children are either failing or excelling in his classes. Yeah, that image disturbs me, too. But that’s how I spent my Friday, as we completed the first trimester of the school year. Ten months into my full time in Colombia while completing a third of my tenure as an in-over-my-head English teacher has made me reflect and self-evaluate: Just how mediocrely am I doing this job?

The best news has nothing to do with my performance, to no one’s surprise. Our homeroom, 6B, had the best GPA of all twelve homerooms at the school throughout the first trimester. On top of that, one of our sixth graders had the highest average in the entire school, dethroning an eighth grader who had been at the top since I started working at this school. I could understand to a certain degree the argument that a homeroom’s performance reflects their directors’ dedication to instilling work ethic and study habits, but that doesn’t mean I fully believe it. My thing has always just been to try to get kids to see that learning is fun and if you can get good grades along the way, icing on the cake.

After one trimester attempting to reign in nigh on forty hormonal energizer bunnies with perpetual morning breath and no sense of personal space, I could go on and on about each little lesson I’ve learned. But it would probably make more sense for all parties if I simply said that, in teaching, every %$*&ing detail matters. Other than the material I’m teaching, I think I have two main goals each day. 

Insert terrible "train of thought" pun here.

The first goal is to minimize distractions. Any moment you have the rapt attention of forty pairs of ears and eyes is precious and fleeting, and any time that I feel I’m being listened to more than usual is when I try to hammer home the most important parts of the lesson to maximize retention rate in the huge sponge that is the prepubescent brain. But the smallest distraction can shatter that crystal, perfect moment, be it a pencil case falling off a desk and shooting pens and erasers in all directions, some kid thinking a quiet moment gives him permission to break it, or the teacher losing his train of thought, making it impossible to find the station in his own mind, much less the minds of his students.

One way to complete this goal is to achieve the second goal of arriving to class and conducting oneself in a way that attracts attention. How a teacher enters the classroom often dictates the mood of the class for the next hour. In high school our World History teacher, Mr. Nydeen, would often come to class overly excited and expressive. In college, Aric Putnam would walk into the room like he owned the goddam place and would sit on the desk like your best friend sits on your couch, waiting for your mom to make you two nachos as you watch the game. One approach is so physically expressive that, as a student, your attention spans are constantly stimulated by every hand gesture, facial expression, or voice inclination. The other helps to calm students down and make them feel comfortable when they need to think hard and distractions need to be minimized. I’ve found I’ve used both of these techniques in various situations, whether I want them to be excited about an incredibly boring grammatical lesson or whether I just need them to calm the hell down.

The little rascals.

In the end, I’ve found that most problems I’ve had in class are the result of class size. Growing up, I never had a class with more than 25 students in it, probably including college. I teach four different groups of kids here, each group having no less than 36 mouths that are usually found open and seeking attention through noise. One group in particular, 7A, has been exceedingly trying so far. It often takes minutes to get them to stop talking before starting class, and if anything out of the ordinary happens, everyone bursts into laughter, increasing the decibel level as well as the chances that any kid thinks it's loud enough for them to chat with their friend next door (hence, the goal of trying to minimize distractions). Personally, I’m a pretty patient dude, and can handle noise and distraction. But it hurts to see kids afraid to participate because if they say something wrong, everyone laughs. Also, because we waste more time getting everybody on the same page (often, literally) they tend to be further behind than their 7B counterparts, a problem that reared its head in the 7^th grade trimester exams (where 7A’s average was significantly lower than 7B’s).

En resumen: Things I feel I’m doing right include having a positive attitude, not taking disruptions or distractions personally, and being decently organized. Areas I need to improve are discipline and creativity in a classroom void of resources,  where I need to find ways to get as many kids involved in the same activity without causing too much distraction or noise for those yet to participate.

In essence, what I’m saying is that teachers are always learning. There is no mountaintop to reach nor finish line where you can look back and tell yourself you’ve reached the status of “great teacher” and proceed to rest on your laurels. Technology improves, pop culture changes, history advances. All of these things need to be incorporated into the plans of even the most experienced teachers. Seeing as I’m nowhere near one of those, I have to think about those as well as find out which damn classroom I’m even supposed to be in on a Thursday.

Always wear a lifejacket kids. Especially with
maestro JJ, because he will tip your boat.

Spanish word of the day: We got a twofer today! I’ve always enjoyed how similar the verbs sentarse, meaning to sit, and sentirse, meaning to feel are. I’m no linguist, and I have done zero research on this, but I’d like to imagine that they’re so similar because one needs to be sitting down to truly think, to really feel. Think about it, when someone needs to tell you something important, you’re asked to sit down. Or when someone needs comforting and gets hugged by someone, that comforting usually happens when both parties are seated. Food for thought!

Song in my head: Though his songs can easily send me into a funk, Dallas Green is one of my favorite artists, with creative hammer on's that add a bittersweet frolic to his melancholy songs. Body in a Box is one such song.