There are times when my job drives me crazy. The past couple weeks have been filled with headaches of misbehaving children, lack of classroom space, miscommunications with fellow teachers, and dozens of other stressors. But thankfully, my job is also filled with moments of sunshine. Sometimes those moments are poignant. Sometimes they're just plain funny. My 11th graders just took their Unit 1 Test, and as a part of the test they had to write a letter to an imaginary American pen pal (Ben/Julie). The following are a few gems I found hidden among the run-of-the-mill grammatical mistakes.
Dear Julie,
My baby. Did you miss me? I did. [written by--in case you couldn't tell--a boy]
Dear Ben,
Hello! Omg. I have so much to tell you about me. [written by--in case you couldn't tell--a girl]
Dear Ben,
In my free time I love to dance. Nobody on the face of this earth can stop me from moving my feet to the music. That would be like trying to stop a natural disaster.
Did I mention that I love my job?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Cell Phones
This post is dedicated to cell phones. Those of you who knew me pre-Post Corps are well aware that I've never been crazy about cell phones. In fact, I didn't even get my first real one until coming to Moldova (I know, I know--the irony). I hate that they restrict a person's privacy (what if I don't want to be found?). And I hate that people now feel entitled to ignore/annoy those around them by talking on cell phones anywhere and everywhere.
My problems with cell phones didn't get any simpler by coming to Moldova. Upon arriving here, I discovered a couple things about this invention. 1) Few Moldovans have reservations about cell phones. Whether it be a 70-year-old farmer driving a horse-drawn cart, or a 10-year-old student, just about everyone here happily uses them. 2) Cell phone etiquette, while sketchy in America, is practically non-existent here. I have been in teacher's meetings, conferences, and even churches where people not only answer their phones in the middle of what's going on, but they also then proceed to have a conversation.
And of course there is my ongoing battle with my students over cell phones in class. No matter how much I beg, threaten, and confiscate, they just don't seem to understand why I get so upset over this particular topic.
There are many days when I see a cell phone and start seeing red. Or wish I was Amish. But, the truth of the matter is that I can't hate them, at least not completely. Because I too am a cell phone addict. I may be more polite about turning my phone off when I'm in a meeting or keeping my phone conversations short when I'm with other people, but I honestly don't know if I could live without my cell phone. Not only is it the Peace Corps' main method of contacting me (in case of emergency, etc.), but it's also my lifeline to other PC volunteers. If I couldn't stay in regular contact with my fellow Americans, I just might go insane.
So, I guess this post is as much an admission as it is a rant. Cell phones aren't going anywhere, and my dependence on them is also staying put. Thanks to Moldova, I've joined the dark side. Aşa e viaţa.
My problems with cell phones didn't get any simpler by coming to Moldova. Upon arriving here, I discovered a couple things about this invention. 1) Few Moldovans have reservations about cell phones. Whether it be a 70-year-old farmer driving a horse-drawn cart, or a 10-year-old student, just about everyone here happily uses them. 2) Cell phone etiquette, while sketchy in America, is practically non-existent here. I have been in teacher's meetings, conferences, and even churches where people not only answer their phones in the middle of what's going on, but they also then proceed to have a conversation.
And of course there is my ongoing battle with my students over cell phones in class. No matter how much I beg, threaten, and confiscate, they just don't seem to understand why I get so upset over this particular topic.
There are many days when I see a cell phone and start seeing red. Or wish I was Amish. But, the truth of the matter is that I can't hate them, at least not completely. Because I too am a cell phone addict. I may be more polite about turning my phone off when I'm in a meeting or keeping my phone conversations short when I'm with other people, but I honestly don't know if I could live without my cell phone. Not only is it the Peace Corps' main method of contacting me (in case of emergency, etc.), but it's also my lifeline to other PC volunteers. If I couldn't stay in regular contact with my fellow Americans, I just might go insane.
So, I guess this post is as much an admission as it is a rant. Cell phones aren't going anywhere, and my dependence on them is also staying put. Thanks to Moldova, I've joined the dark side. Aşa e viaţa.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Going Through the Motions
Yesterday was one of those truly awful days as a teacher, one of those days that made me question my desire to one day have children. My 5th grade class behaved like little monsters (and I'm using monster in the literal sense here) for a solid 45 minutes. And then during my 10th grade class (a new class that I picked up this year), I had to chase down two boys--both a foot taller than I am--who were trying to skip English. By the end of the ordeal, I had managed to disillusion them from their belief that the young American teacher was a pushover, but the effort left me wiped out.
I've learned quite a few things about being a teacher over the past year, but the thing that has struck me most is how truly exhausting it is. If you care about doing it well, you wear yourself out. Not only do you have to worry about planning and teaching effective lessons, but you also have to deal with behavior problems, grades, and a myriad of other challenges that arise during the course of each day. I really am starting to understand why so many teachers give into the temptation of doing a mediocre job, performing the bare minimum and going home at the end of the day without giving another thought to their students.
The truth of the matter, though, is that teaching isn't a 9-5 job. And if you take it seriously, you feel the full weight of responsibility on your shoulders. In a country where so many children are essentially parent-less, having one or both parents working abroad, a teacher's responsibility is painfully clear. Whether we like it or not, we are filling in as caregivers and role models.
A fellow PCV here in Moldova recently told me that one of her 6th grade students tried to commit suicide. Both of the girl's parents are abroad, and she is basically on her own. When I heard that story, I was immediately sobered by the fact that that girl easily could have been one of my own students.
I know just how easy it is to focus all of my energy on teaching the right nouns and verbs, yelling at kids when they act up, and filling in grades in the catalogue. And I'll admit that some days that's all I can manage. But more often than not, I need to strive for a higher standard. My hope is that, in doing so, I'll succeed in being more than just a teacher in name...because I certainly didn't come here to do the bare minimum.
I've learned quite a few things about being a teacher over the past year, but the thing that has struck me most is how truly exhausting it is. If you care about doing it well, you wear yourself out. Not only do you have to worry about planning and teaching effective lessons, but you also have to deal with behavior problems, grades, and a myriad of other challenges that arise during the course of each day. I really am starting to understand why so many teachers give into the temptation of doing a mediocre job, performing the bare minimum and going home at the end of the day without giving another thought to their students.
The truth of the matter, though, is that teaching isn't a 9-5 job. And if you take it seriously, you feel the full weight of responsibility on your shoulders. In a country where so many children are essentially parent-less, having one or both parents working abroad, a teacher's responsibility is painfully clear. Whether we like it or not, we are filling in as caregivers and role models.
A fellow PCV here in Moldova recently told me that one of her 6th grade students tried to commit suicide. Both of the girl's parents are abroad, and she is basically on her own. When I heard that story, I was immediately sobered by the fact that that girl easily could have been one of my own students.
I know just how easy it is to focus all of my energy on teaching the right nouns and verbs, yelling at kids when they act up, and filling in grades in the catalogue. And I'll admit that some days that's all I can manage. But more often than not, I need to strive for a higher standard. My hope is that, in doing so, I'll succeed in being more than just a teacher in name...because I certainly didn't come here to do the bare minimum.
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