I feel like over the course of my life, I’ve developed a relatively ‘thick’ skin when it comes to certain things. I grew up with a loving family that loved to give each other a hard time and an uncle that loved nothing more than to embarrass me.
So, generally, I don’t tend to feel too embarrassed (just a normal amount and move on) about things that happen here. I’ve done some pretty embarrassing things too- vomited off the back of a jeepney (in motion) while passing a fish market that SMELLS like a fish market, projectile vomiting right in the middle of a sidewalk in the middle of the day, falling off a jeepney (more than once), tripping in the mall, butchering the local language, spelling something incorrectly while teaching English... I could really keep going if you’d like.
Well today I experienced my most recent embarrassing moment and I must say this got to me jusssst a little.
So- all week the faculty has been preparing to sing songs in chorus at a ceremony that we had today. This particular event was an “Oath Taking Ceremony and Acquaintance Party” which was basically an induction of all class officers, club officers, faculty officers, and PTA officers.
And this ended up being a bigger even than I was expecting because we had quite a few important guests show up to watch: the mayor, the vice governor, the governor’s brother, the former governor, other important people too but its really not too relevant to the story.
Like I was saying, we have been practicing these hymns all week after school and pretty much all morning. I felt comfortable with the parts, its not like I had a solo or anything. I just had to stand up there and sing with the faculty. You wouldn’t think that it would be that hard, right?
Wrong.
I march up there in line with everyone else. We sing the first song, no problem. By the second song I was feeling slightly uncomfortable and a little bit dizzy. During the third song (And yeah, there were only 3 songs, we couldn’t have been standing up there for more than 10 minutes) my body decided to work against me. I started having tunnel vision and could feel myself losing my balance. Luckily for me the teachers around me noticed too and immediately grabbed my arms and called for someone to get a chair. About 4 teachers were fanning me and then grabbed me to move me to another chair as we filed off stage.
Of course the teachers were mostly laughing about my 'experience' but were generally concerned. They told me that I was really pale and ice cold. Once I was sitting down, I felt fine but they insisted that I needed to place my head between my legs so they actually shoved down on my back forcing me into a fetal like position while rubbing my back and me attempting to shout from my legs that I was fine and I would like to sit up straight.
Yes, the American is capable of ruining a short three-song performance. Yes, this ‘faint’ spell did happen in front of every prominent member of my community and my entire school. Yes, my faculty did offer to take me to the hospital but I politely declined. And yes, they did also tell me (jokingly I think) that I shouldn’t perform with them anymore since I ‘faint when nervous.’
I tried to tell them that I don’t faint when I get nervous and remind them about all the events that I’ve helped them with and spoke at but it’s no use. I nearly collapsed. There is nothing I can do about that.
This event was also quite documented so when it appears on Youtube, I’ll make sure to post you a copy for your blog.
For those who read this and maybe feel concerned about my well-being and empathetic to the terribly embarrassing moment that I experienced, thank you. You are kind hearted.
And for those who read this and didn’t even make it half way through without laughing (mom and Maggie), you’re a jerk. Lol.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Teaching
Every morning, as I walk the incredibly short walk from my house to my school, I am generously greeted with plenty of ‘good morning, ma’am,’ or maupay nga aga,’ by students, neighbors, pedicab drivers, and miscellaneous adults simply standing around. Students zoom past me, panting as they attempt to get to the school before they are considered late.
The guard happily lets me inside the giant green gate to our school to which I awkwardly stand around waiting for the flag ceremony to come to an end if it hasn’t ended already.
I sleepily walk to my classroom, located on the second floor of the newest building at my school. My first class in the morning is a 4th year English class for advanced students. While students shuffle in, I put my bags down and chat with my co-teacher.
Everything has become routine at this point. I feel like a teacher now. I am a teacher now
Time to start the lesson. I walk from the back of the classroom where my makeshift desk to the front of the classroom.
Students immediately stand up.
“Good morning Teacher Celia, Praise Be Jesus and Mary,” the students recite in unison before I say anything at all.
“Now and forever,” I formally reply to their greeting.
“Amen,” they finally declare before taking their seats.
At this point I can officially begin my class. At this point I’m no longer stumbling through lectures. I confidently breeze through my lesson until I hear the bell ring, wishing I had just ten more minutes.
If I think about where I was during training, or even during my first few months at the high school, I dreaded the idea of teaching for an hour. I’m not a teacher. I’ve never been a teacher. I don’t know how to teach. How am I possibly going to keep kids engaged for an entire hour? How am I supposed to teach them something new everyday? I don’t even know that much about English!
It’s remarkable how much I’ve changed in that aspect.
I waltz away quickly racing to my next class in order to not keep them waiting. New class. New lesson. New greeting. I gather my thoughts and bring myself to Advanced English mode and prepare myself to teach my 3rd year students the importance and practicality of business writing. Before I know it, the bell rings.
Next, I have two 1st year English classes back to back. This is where I’m challenged. The kids are 11-12ish and act like it. They are noisy, silly, and love to act out. They also, sadly, have little reading comprehension so coming up with English lessons for them is a work of art. The kids require constant discipline and seem to always want to test my patience and their boundaries.
Don’t worry; I let them know whose boss!
Before, the younger kids really intimidated me. I had a hard time gaining control and I hated the idea of being a ‘mean’ teacher. I really wanted kids to like me so I tried to be nice and ask them nicely to be quiet. …. Well, like I said, that was before.
By the time the bell rings after the two back-to-back 1st year classes, I am utterly exhausted and pretty much running to my last class before lunch, Journalism. My last class is usually a breeze.
It’s time for lunch and reflection.
To be honest, at this point, I thought I would be crazy. I really didn’t feel confident that I could spend five consecutive hours with kids before lunch and could … actually enjoy it. But I do. I really do. There is rarely a day when I come home and I’m frustrated because of the kids, because of my teaching. Even on my worst days when the kids are really really bad, I still want to be there.
Even leaving training I felt unprepared. I didn’t know if the training I had received had really prepared me for adequately leading a class. At this point, I don’t really know what I was expecting. Someone can’t tell you how to feel comfortable in a classroom, its something you just have to figure out on your own. I don’t know how many times I tell my students that confidence comes with practice yet this was a difficult lesson for me to learn.
I think growing up and going through college I always thought that the one career that would definitely never be for me is teaching. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to attempt to teach obnoxious kids everyday. Now, I don’t know. I can’t say that I want to be a teacher forever but there are days when I think how exciting it must be to be a teacher in the states with resources and text books and students that really understand English! I bet it’s fun.
I even find that my brain thinks like a teacher now. If I go to a bookstore, I find myself looking at books that I think ‘my kids’ will enjoy. I’ll spend hours in the afternoon researching (yes, I know this is a luxury that most people do not have here) one lesson so I can present the material the best way possible. I’m constantly thinking of projects I can do with the kids.
Teaching may not be for everyone, but I think it’s definitely worth considering.
The guard happily lets me inside the giant green gate to our school to which I awkwardly stand around waiting for the flag ceremony to come to an end if it hasn’t ended already.
I sleepily walk to my classroom, located on the second floor of the newest building at my school. My first class in the morning is a 4th year English class for advanced students. While students shuffle in, I put my bags down and chat with my co-teacher.
Everything has become routine at this point. I feel like a teacher now. I am a teacher now
Time to start the lesson. I walk from the back of the classroom where my makeshift desk to the front of the classroom.
Students immediately stand up.
“Good morning Teacher Celia, Praise Be Jesus and Mary,” the students recite in unison before I say anything at all.
“Now and forever,” I formally reply to their greeting.
“Amen,” they finally declare before taking their seats.
At this point I can officially begin my class. At this point I’m no longer stumbling through lectures. I confidently breeze through my lesson until I hear the bell ring, wishing I had just ten more minutes.
If I think about where I was during training, or even during my first few months at the high school, I dreaded the idea of teaching for an hour. I’m not a teacher. I’ve never been a teacher. I don’t know how to teach. How am I possibly going to keep kids engaged for an entire hour? How am I supposed to teach them something new everyday? I don’t even know that much about English!
It’s remarkable how much I’ve changed in that aspect.
I waltz away quickly racing to my next class in order to not keep them waiting. New class. New lesson. New greeting. I gather my thoughts and bring myself to Advanced English mode and prepare myself to teach my 3rd year students the importance and practicality of business writing. Before I know it, the bell rings.
Next, I have two 1st year English classes back to back. This is where I’m challenged. The kids are 11-12ish and act like it. They are noisy, silly, and love to act out. They also, sadly, have little reading comprehension so coming up with English lessons for them is a work of art. The kids require constant discipline and seem to always want to test my patience and their boundaries.
Don’t worry; I let them know whose boss!
Before, the younger kids really intimidated me. I had a hard time gaining control and I hated the idea of being a ‘mean’ teacher. I really wanted kids to like me so I tried to be nice and ask them nicely to be quiet. …. Well, like I said, that was before.
By the time the bell rings after the two back-to-back 1st year classes, I am utterly exhausted and pretty much running to my last class before lunch, Journalism. My last class is usually a breeze.
It’s time for lunch and reflection.
To be honest, at this point, I thought I would be crazy. I really didn’t feel confident that I could spend five consecutive hours with kids before lunch and could … actually enjoy it. But I do. I really do. There is rarely a day when I come home and I’m frustrated because of the kids, because of my teaching. Even on my worst days when the kids are really really bad, I still want to be there.
Even leaving training I felt unprepared. I didn’t know if the training I had received had really prepared me for adequately leading a class. At this point, I don’t really know what I was expecting. Someone can’t tell you how to feel comfortable in a classroom, its something you just have to figure out on your own. I don’t know how many times I tell my students that confidence comes with practice yet this was a difficult lesson for me to learn.
I think growing up and going through college I always thought that the one career that would definitely never be for me is teaching. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to attempt to teach obnoxious kids everyday. Now, I don’t know. I can’t say that I want to be a teacher forever but there are days when I think how exciting it must be to be a teacher in the states with resources and text books and students that really understand English! I bet it’s fun.
I even find that my brain thinks like a teacher now. If I go to a bookstore, I find myself looking at books that I think ‘my kids’ will enjoy. I’ll spend hours in the afternoon researching (yes, I know this is a luxury that most people do not have here) one lesson so I can present the material the best way possible. I’m constantly thinking of projects I can do with the kids.
Teaching may not be for everyone, but I think it’s definitely worth considering.
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