Donkeys and High-Fives

I suppose that since I've been teaching here in a Moundou for over a month, and since it's my whole reason for being invited here, some of you might appreciate hearing a word or two about it. I shall oblige.

I teach two groups: second- and third-level English. They are the equivalent of 8th and 9th grades. At Altonodji, each level has one classroom reserved, so teachers come and go while the students stay put. When I enter my classrooms, between 35 and 50 students stand up and wait for me to greet them with a big ol' "Good morning, class," to which they respond with a jumbled chorus of "Good morning, Miss" and, "Good morning, teacher." Then we get to it!

The students have notebooks but no textbooks, so much attention is focused on the blackboard. I develop my lessons from a combination of 2 lesson books, a list of national standards for their respective levels, and my own ingenuity/opinions on what they should learn. In case you are not aware, I have no formal pedagogical training beyond a Piano Pedagogy course and a semester being the only non-Education major in Educational Psychology. However, I'll admit that I arrogantly believed I could have all the students wrapped around my finger in no time. Besides just being an undeniably charismatic and charming person, I had felt well equipped with a no-nonsense glare, a slow, confident teacher's stride for circling the class, and a policy of subtracting 2 points from naughty students' grades... However, I've had to learn quickly that there is a lot more to managing a class. It is especially difficult to do so in a new language. When the patient raising of hands seems to be an unheard-of concept, and half the class is calling out questions or making commentary at any given time, it takes me significantly longer to determine to whom I need to respond to and whom I need to either ignore or reprimand.

 I have had several classes that felt like majority damage-control and minimal teaching. After one particularly challenging lesson in the first week, I gave myself an introspective check-up and concluded that I was far from tearful about the whole thing, but that it was the kind of class that might have already cracked some other teachers. Therefore, I took my lack of panic as a small success. I considered where to go from here. Some acquaintances encouraged me to find a ruler (and pronto) to demonstrate to the students that I'm not messing around. Apparently I don't have to hit anybody, but I definitely need to threaten to. Unfortunately MCC isn't the biggest proponent of corporal punishment so I've had to resist the urge to follow this piece of advice :)

 So what have I done instead? Well, true to my nature I've gone with being funny. (And I feel compelled to add here that I'm not promoting myself as a brilliant comedian or anything, but I'm just recognizing that when confronted with almost any situation in the world, my natural inclination is to make a joke or do something disarmingly weird.) When half the class is trying to do anything but engage with what I'm teaching, I don't think that being cutesie and self-deprecating is necessarily the way to gain their respect, but nonetheless I do think it gains their attention much of the time.

 For example, the other week I had written a short text on the board, and after going over it, I asked for a volunteer to read a sentence aloud for pronunciation. After the first volunteer had read (very well, I might add), I enthusiastically gave him a high-five, much to the class' amusement. The high-five had not been meant to be funny. It was totally natural. However, when the next student read the second sentence, I knew I had everyone's attention, so I gave that person a high-five as well. Suddenly students were climbing all over each other to volunteer to read, and I had to scramble around the class doling out high-fives which were reciprocated with varying degrees of force. I couldn't quite tell if the students just loved high-fives (in which case, if I reflect on my Ed. Psych course, I'm probably creating praise-junkies who rely on external motivation) or if they thought it was funny and idiotic that I was running around getting so excited about a couple of English sentences, but either way I didn't feel like I was fighting anyone to participate.

 Another example. Have you ever noticed that if you say donkey ten times fast, it sounds like you're making the "hee-haw" sound? I was doing a lesson on animals last week and this occurred to me as I was slowly articulating the syllables in DON-KEY. I thought this would be a helpful way to remember the word, so I started making donkey sounds. This led to me making animal sounds for every one of the animals, including pigs, goats, dogs, and... well, I blanked when I got to camels. But anyway, I definitely saw a number of bleary, half-closed eyes snap wide open when I began doing so, so I stuck to it. Later, after a week-long hiatus from teaching, we began reviewing the animals. I wrote all of the English names and we spent a good ten minutes pointing to each animal and making animal sounds together as a class. Some of the students can make some incredibly convincing bird calls and sheep bleats, let me tell you. Once again, it wasn't my most dignified moment, and maybe students were looking at each other behind my back saying, "isn't she wacky?!" but that's a price I am more than willing to pay for a class that is excited about engaging with the blackboard. (Side note: Since I first wrote this a week ago, I have had MANY out-of-classroom moments with students that have involved them brightly hee-hawing "DonKEY," which means it's working.) Moral of the story: I'm no miracle worker so far but this assignment has truly been an excellent one for me. Besides enjoying connecting/laughing with young people, I am someone who has loved school for as long as she can remember, and who spent much of her childhood playing "school" with elaborate print-outs and lesson plans. (Shout-out to the Skuzins!) I remember the thrill of learning even the most basic vocabulary when I was in 8th grade studying Spanish. When in doubt, I close my eyes and put myself back in that classroom. How did I enjoy learning? I am charmed by the students who race each other across the campus each morning to greet me and carry my bags into the classroom. I am grateful to the class chief, Alfred, who has come up to me various times after class with a list of students who were giving me trouble. I'm touched by students who stay after class to request that I translate the English text on their backpack (ex. Lonely Heart), or to ask me to sing a song in English. I know that for many of my students, English is more than a required subject. For many people, young and old who I have met, learning English is something they feel will take them places. I feel passionate about being charged with the responsibility of conveying what knowledge I can in whatever ways I can while I am here.