Feeling like a teacher
Most of my posts on here are about my travels, with just a few words about where I went, what I did, what I saw, etc. Usually, I don't say a lot about my day to day life. However, I think it's about time I spoke a little bit about being a teacher, both abroad and in America. Three years ago in August, I uprooted my entire life, packed my bags and flew across the ocean for the first time to live and teach in the Republic of Georgia. It was the biggest challenge I have ever faced and I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. There are so many sayings out there about living your life to the fullest and doing what you love and this was the first time I had finally felt like I understood what some of those sayings meant.
Despite not having a teaching degree or any real experience in the classroom, by the end of my 10 months teaching in a small village outside of a small town in Western Georgia, I was the lead teacher in the classroom. I followed the books they provided, but added games, projects and activities. I was the one who prepared curriculum (for the most part) and I made an effort to get the kids interested in joining me for after school activities. Looking back, I was probably one of the worst teachers of the bunch. There is only so much you can learn in a classroom or online about classroom management, discipline, successful activities, age-appropriate materials, etc. Unfortunately, some of that you really need in order to deal with a bunch of 17 year olds. Especially when you yourself are only 3 years older than them.
Georgia may have been a bit of a reality check concerning my teaching skills, but when I went back to the US and became a preschool teacher I had another sort of reality check. There is an enormous difference between working with a classroom of pubescent children and working in a classroom filled with toddlers. One can find advantages and disadvantages for either, but for me it became painfully clear that working in the toddler classroom was much closer to my interests. For a year and a half, I dealt with stinky diapers, screaming children, too many toddlers in one classroom (there should never be 20 two year-old children in a classroom) and everything else that comes with attempting to teach small children.
After my year from hell, involving everything from the above mentioned too many children to hospital visits to CT scans to family drama, it occurred to me that running away might actually be a solution to my problems. I may have been negative my last few months in Georgia (the village life wears you down), but in the end I remembered most the times that I loved. The weekend trips to the mountains, to Tbilisi, to the coast. The friends I made in various expat circles. The days where I woke up wondering why in the world I thought it was a good idea to go to a Georgian suppra when I knew full well I would wake up in that exact state. So, with all that in mind, I once again began applying to teaching positions abroad. This time, though, I went for pre-schools.
The school I currently work at is one of the most amazing jobs I have ever had. There are issues, inevitably, and dramas and all of the silly little things you have to deal with when you work in a preschool. There are also some of the most amazing children I have ever met. These kids will translate for me. I work with two classes of 3 to 4 year old kids. They make me feel shame for my lack of languages, and I'm the person who is planning on committing 2 nights a week to learning Polish, just because I live in Poland. But these kids! There are so many moments that have happened while I was teaching that just made me feel so damn proud. When one of my newest students who spoke absolutely no English looked at me during breakfast the other day and said, "I love you." When we were doing circle time and talking about how we feel, I began to change pace and one of my little boys stopped me and said, "Helen, how do you feel?" When I was reading a book to a mixed group of 20 kids from 3 to 6 years old while two teachers moved tables and chairs around us, and every kid was engaged and listening to my story. Whenever I hear my kids singing the ABCs or counting to themselves in English. When my kids explain things to me in English, it may be broken English and there may be grammatical mistakes, but they are 4 years old and they can convey where, when and what happened.
It's all these little moments that make my teaching worth it. It's also these moments that have made me finally feel like a teacher. I don't know if I will always feel this excited to go to school. I don't know if I will always love teaching as much as I do now. But those moments, those are the ones I remember. And they're the ones that have made it easy for me to fall in love with living in Warsaw. When going to work involves 30 four year old children jumping on you and excited to see you? That's a job worth going to in the morning.
Snowball fights with the fourth graders.
Despite not having a teaching degree or any real experience in the classroom, by the end of my 10 months teaching in a small village outside of a small town in Western Georgia, I was the lead teacher in the classroom. I followed the books they provided, but added games, projects and activities. I was the one who prepared curriculum (for the most part) and I made an effort to get the kids interested in joining me for after school activities. Looking back, I was probably one of the worst teachers of the bunch. There is only so much you can learn in a classroom or online about classroom management, discipline, successful activities, age-appropriate materials, etc. Unfortunately, some of that you really need in order to deal with a bunch of 17 year olds. Especially when you yourself are only 3 years older than them.
Georgia may have been a bit of a reality check concerning my teaching skills, but when I went back to the US and became a preschool teacher I had another sort of reality check. There is an enormous difference between working with a classroom of pubescent children and working in a classroom filled with toddlers. One can find advantages and disadvantages for either, but for me it became painfully clear that working in the toddler classroom was much closer to my interests. For a year and a half, I dealt with stinky diapers, screaming children, too many toddlers in one classroom (there should never be 20 two year-old children in a classroom) and everything else that comes with attempting to teach small children.
Two of my girls here in Poland, doing their absolute favorite thing: coloring!
After my year from hell, involving everything from the above mentioned too many children to hospital visits to CT scans to family drama, it occurred to me that running away might actually be a solution to my problems. I may have been negative my last few months in Georgia (the village life wears you down), but in the end I remembered most the times that I loved. The weekend trips to the mountains, to Tbilisi, to the coast. The friends I made in various expat circles. The days where I woke up wondering why in the world I thought it was a good idea to go to a Georgian suppra when I knew full well I would wake up in that exact state. So, with all that in mind, I once again began applying to teaching positions abroad. This time, though, I went for pre-schools.
She made an amazing lion for our pictionary about animals!
The school I currently work at is one of the most amazing jobs I have ever had. There are issues, inevitably, and dramas and all of the silly little things you have to deal with when you work in a preschool. There are also some of the most amazing children I have ever met. These kids will translate for me. I work with two classes of 3 to 4 year old kids. They make me feel shame for my lack of languages, and I'm the person who is planning on committing 2 nights a week to learning Polish, just because I live in Poland. But these kids! There are so many moments that have happened while I was teaching that just made me feel so damn proud. When one of my newest students who spoke absolutely no English looked at me during breakfast the other day and said, "I love you." When we were doing circle time and talking about how we feel, I began to change pace and one of my little boys stopped me and said, "Helen, how do you feel?" When I was reading a book to a mixed group of 20 kids from 3 to 6 years old while two teachers moved tables and chairs around us, and every kid was engaged and listening to my story. Whenever I hear my kids singing the ABCs or counting to themselves in English. When my kids explain things to me in English, it may be broken English and there may be grammatical mistakes, but they are 4 years old and they can convey where, when and what happened.
The parents probably hate how often their children are sent home covered in paint, but the kids love it and I get to wonder how he managed to get green hand-prints on his arms when he was using red!
It's all these little moments that make my teaching worth it. It's also these moments that have made me finally feel like a teacher. I don't know if I will always feel this excited to go to school. I don't know if I will always love teaching as much as I do now. But those moments, those are the ones I remember. And they're the ones that have made it easy for me to fall in love with living in Warsaw. When going to work involves 30 four year old children jumping on you and excited to see you? That's a job worth going to in the morning.
you are a wonderful teacher!
ReplyDeleteThe path to happiness is paved with small victories--sounds like you are getting your fair share
ReplyDelete