This week has really been a roller coaster since coming back from Belize. On Monday and Wednesday I was fighting an extreme uphill battle to control my classroom and promote listening. Tuesday and today, for some reason, were much better and I am not sure I can explain why. Yesterday I sort of freaked out at the kids and later on at the apartment. In class, I became so fed up with the talking during instruction and all the dozing faces that I slammed my hand down on the table. The slam was a bit louder than I thought it would be, but it got everyone's attention, and fast. I let my patience get the best of me and in a brief escape I ended up scaring my class into submission.
It is hard to maintain a positive-reinforcement environment when the students are not focused on the goal they are working towards. But the truth is using discipline ends up making me crazier and doesn't work half of the time. You basically just have to find the students who are following directions and acknowledge them for it every 5 seconds; this makes others seek the same type of approval...or so they say. I tend to take a more wholistic approach and have class goals, but I have recently changed directions because it is always the few who ruin things for the many. Essentially I have begun to flood the market with Smackers (our classroom money). I think it is working. If the Republic had national holidays, today would have been Let's-all-act-really-nice-for-Don-Josh-so-that-he-will-put-beans-in-the-bean-jar-and-give-us-a-bunch-of-Smackers Day.
Regardless, I felt guilty about the hand smack and reflecting on it later, even though it worked, and it worked well, I am not running a tyrannical republic; we are more of an oligarchy, except I have 51% of the vote.
But this one incident led me to have sort of a break down at home. I feel like I am not teaching them anything. Like they are not moving forward. Every measuring stick that we have to go off of here (teachers notes from last year, our new English curriculum, other teachers) is ahead of where I am. We are reaching the end of the first quarter and I have to do all of these final tasks that take a look back at everything and I just feel like I am not moving forward. Samira help put things into perspective and was a good person to talk to. She is a returning teacher who has tons of insight and is a great resource to have here. She basically reassured me that I was teaching them and that it takes time to understand what it really means to be an effective educator. And also not to set the bar so high. We are already doing a great thing here and it is important to keep that in perspective.
Onward!
The second part to this blog is more of an ethical question that I encountered today.
I have two really high-level students who enjoy reading more than anything else. One of them is a overly studious girl who just happens to be a Jehova's Witness (I mention this only because it seems like all of the JW's, as I call them, are super smart and speak English really well) and the other has early-onset teenage angst at the age of 10 and doodles all day in class. Anyway, I handed them both a copy of the first Harry Potter book to start reading, knowing that they would enjoy it and want to read the whole series (which we have in the library). I gave them these books on Tuesday and they are already deeply involved in one of the greatest fantasy series children should read.
Naomi, the JW, comes to me today to tell me how much she loves the book and how awesome all the characters are (She already likes it and there is so much more to come). But then she mentions to me that her mom does not want her to read this book. WHAT!?
I am pretty sure it has something to do with being a Jehova's Witness, but I am not sure and the fact is, if her mother tells her she can't read it then what can I do?
So Naomi mentions to me that she will just keep the book at school and take a different book home. I didn't really acknowledge this comment because I didn't want Naomi to think that I supported her openly defying her mother. But I do believe she should clandestinely read this book, and all of the ones that follow. Naomi has such a mind for learning and is an incredible student who should be allowed to read whatever she wants. But as her teacher, it would be wrong of me to support such blatant insubordination of her mother and of her families religious beliefs.
This is my dilemma and I truly do not know what to do. For now, I am going to let her continue to read and finish the first book. But I will have to dig deeper when she asks me for the 2nd.
Pictures will be up on the "interweb" shortly. Click the link at the top of the page.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
un-BELIZE-able
There comes a time in every BECA volunteers adventure when they must leave Honduras in order to come back. That is to say, I needed to renew my visa. So off we went to Belize.
We left on a Thursday around 5:00 AM an set out for belize. Over the course of the next twelve hours, we took the following modes transportation:
A private van > a small boat > a hired van > a truck bed > a bigger boat > a school bus > a different school bus > another boat > then a short walk. I would draw a diagram but I couldn't find a map of central america large enough to fit al of the symbols and transfer points.
In just those few quick and easy modes of transportation the team arrived in Belize just as the sun was setting, but how sweet it was. In case you are wondering, we had to go to Belize because in order to renew a visa for Honduras you must leave the CA-4 for at least 72 hours. The CA-4 or the Central American Four refers to Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador and Nicaragua. Belize is the closes one not part of the CA-4, so we went there.
This trip was exactly what we needed. We were coming up on the end of the first quarter and things at school have become quite stressful. It had been the compounding fatigue of teaching and the recent departure of one of our teachers that had built up quite some tension and this vacation couldn't have come at a better time.
I had never been to the Caribbean, so this was a first for me. The temperature was perfect, the beaches were beautiful, but I think the best part about it all was that Belize is actually a developed country. You can actually tell the difference from the moment you step off the second boat onto Belizean soil. The people speak English, which was a huge shock at first. I knew they spoke English, but they still have this Hispanic look to them and when they ask you a question like a Jamaican guy it throws you for a loop. you can also find brands that are more popular in America in the grocery store.
The city we went to was called Placencia, Belize, the best beaches on the mainland. It was nice to finally sit down at a decent restaurant and eat amazing food, in a bathing suit. There was also this hodgepodge of American and Canadian ex-pats who had moved down there to grab a slice of paradise and exploit the tourism industry. We ran into plenty of American families and fellow travelers all taking breaks from Central America and just relaxing on the beach.
It was a great 3 days just relaxing and swimming. Our beach side cabanas even had american cable TV so I was able to catch the Braves' playoff games, even though that ended up not so good. All in all it was a well deserved and much needed vacation.
Sunday rolled around and we had to take the great journey back home. This time there was less transferring but here is how we got back:
Walking > boat > school bus > boat > little bus > small boat > hired van.
I stopped at customs 8 times in 3 different countries and only got 5 stamps. Bummer.
Pictures to come soon.
We left on a Thursday around 5:00 AM an set out for belize. Over the course of the next twelve hours, we took the following modes transportation:
A private van > a small boat > a hired van > a truck bed > a bigger boat > a school bus > a different school bus > another boat > then a short walk. I would draw a diagram but I couldn't find a map of central america large enough to fit al of the symbols and transfer points.
In just those few quick and easy modes of transportation the team arrived in Belize just as the sun was setting, but how sweet it was. In case you are wondering, we had to go to Belize because in order to renew a visa for Honduras you must leave the CA-4 for at least 72 hours. The CA-4 or the Central American Four refers to Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador and Nicaragua. Belize is the closes one not part of the CA-4, so we went there.
This trip was exactly what we needed. We were coming up on the end of the first quarter and things at school have become quite stressful. It had been the compounding fatigue of teaching and the recent departure of one of our teachers that had built up quite some tension and this vacation couldn't have come at a better time.
I had never been to the Caribbean, so this was a first for me. The temperature was perfect, the beaches were beautiful, but I think the best part about it all was that Belize is actually a developed country. You can actually tell the difference from the moment you step off the second boat onto Belizean soil. The people speak English, which was a huge shock at first. I knew they spoke English, but they still have this Hispanic look to them and when they ask you a question like a Jamaican guy it throws you for a loop. you can also find brands that are more popular in America in the grocery store.
The city we went to was called Placencia, Belize, the best beaches on the mainland. It was nice to finally sit down at a decent restaurant and eat amazing food, in a bathing suit. There was also this hodgepodge of American and Canadian ex-pats who had moved down there to grab a slice of paradise and exploit the tourism industry. We ran into plenty of American families and fellow travelers all taking breaks from Central America and just relaxing on the beach.
It was a great 3 days just relaxing and swimming. Our beach side cabanas even had american cable TV so I was able to catch the Braves' playoff games, even though that ended up not so good. All in all it was a well deserved and much needed vacation.
Sunday rolled around and we had to take the great journey back home. This time there was less transferring but here is how we got back:
Walking > boat > school bus > boat > little bus > small boat > hired van.
I stopped at customs 8 times in 3 different countries and only got 5 stamps. Bummer.
Pictures to come soon.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Suspended...
When I was 6 years old I was in first grade. Much like I am today, I was a very talkative boy and this tended to get me in trouble in class. I must have a had a bad string of days in the first grade because I was bringing home a bunch of yellow lights. Good students stayed on green. Those who had to be warned multiple times about their bad behavior were moved to yellow, or worse yet, red. If you had to move to yellow, a note went home to your parents and it had to be signed and returned the following day.
My father, though cool he may seem to all of you, was very upset with me for the number of yellow lights I had brought home as of late and therefore threatened me that if I came home with another yellow light I would receive the worst punishment a boy, age six could ever get...I would be grounded. (To this very day, I have never been grounded by my parents.)
But sure enough I could not keep my thoughts to myself and I was given another yellow light. Remembering my dad's threat, I attempted to conceal my wrongdoing by forging my mom's signature in the most elegant block lettering possible. I even had to ask her how to spell her name before I could commit the egregious fraud. Yea, I know, I was a clandestine rebel in the first grade.
Probably to the surprise of many, my teacher did not believe my mona-lisa-of-a signature and I was handed down....a red light. The jig was up. I walked back with my tail between my legs and had to confess to my parents my attempted failure.
The reason I tell you this story is because today I had to give a student a red light...a falta MAYOR. In layman's terms (or English for the most of you) that means receiving one day of in school suspension in the office of the director.
About two weeks ago one of my students handed in one of our weekly assignments which is to write in a journal your thoughts, opinions, and reactions to the book you are reading at home. Each student is also to include a short summary of what has happened in the book. This particular student brought me her journal, in which she has copied the back cover of the book she was reading and expected me not to know. I approached her about it and gave her an opportunity to tell the truth. She lied. Eventually I got her to admit that she had plagiarized and I sent a note home to her mother and spoke with the students at length about how wrong of a practice this was...it is stealing.
Today was her day again to turn in her work. She had done the exact same thing. I knew that this action had to go punished, so I left that up to her. She could tell me the truth and I would give her a falta menor, or a disciplinary slap on the wrist. If she chose to lie, it meant a falta mayor and a serious discussion with her parents and the director. She lied. She lied about 10 times while looking me in the eyes and assuring me that the writing was her own.
I began to consider that maybe she did not understand the assignment and that is why she was plagiarizing, but then again I gave her an opportunity to come clean and admit her wrongdoing but she did not and maintained a not-very-well conceived lie. I had no choice. With one dishonest claim I gave out my first suspension.
To this day I have never forged my parents signature for anything. You can even ask my mom. She has even tried to get me to sign inconsequential documents like a race registration for her and I just won't do it. I guess I am afraid of getting grounded. I found out many years later that my parents we trying to hold in their laughter when I presented them with the red light and the forged yellow-light signature.
The point is I learned my lesson in first grade about what is right and wrong and I have never done it again. I hope today a 5th grader learned her lesson about stealing other people's ideas and trying to pass them off as her own.
I am not sure what lesson I will learn from this. I am sure tomorrow's meeting with her parents will bring some light to the issue.
My father, though cool he may seem to all of you, was very upset with me for the number of yellow lights I had brought home as of late and therefore threatened me that if I came home with another yellow light I would receive the worst punishment a boy, age six could ever get...I would be grounded. (To this very day, I have never been grounded by my parents.)
But sure enough I could not keep my thoughts to myself and I was given another yellow light. Remembering my dad's threat, I attempted to conceal my wrongdoing by forging my mom's signature in the most elegant block lettering possible. I even had to ask her how to spell her name before I could commit the egregious fraud. Yea, I know, I was a clandestine rebel in the first grade.
Probably to the surprise of many, my teacher did not believe my mona-lisa-of-a signature and I was handed down....a red light. The jig was up. I walked back with my tail between my legs and had to confess to my parents my attempted failure.
The reason I tell you this story is because today I had to give a student a red light...a falta MAYOR. In layman's terms (or English for the most of you) that means receiving one day of in school suspension in the office of the director.
About two weeks ago one of my students handed in one of our weekly assignments which is to write in a journal your thoughts, opinions, and reactions to the book you are reading at home. Each student is also to include a short summary of what has happened in the book. This particular student brought me her journal, in which she has copied the back cover of the book she was reading and expected me not to know. I approached her about it and gave her an opportunity to tell the truth. She lied. Eventually I got her to admit that she had plagiarized and I sent a note home to her mother and spoke with the students at length about how wrong of a practice this was...it is stealing.
Today was her day again to turn in her work. She had done the exact same thing. I knew that this action had to go punished, so I left that up to her. She could tell me the truth and I would give her a falta menor, or a disciplinary slap on the wrist. If she chose to lie, it meant a falta mayor and a serious discussion with her parents and the director. She lied. She lied about 10 times while looking me in the eyes and assuring me that the writing was her own.
I began to consider that maybe she did not understand the assignment and that is why she was plagiarizing, but then again I gave her an opportunity to come clean and admit her wrongdoing but she did not and maintained a not-very-well conceived lie. I had no choice. With one dishonest claim I gave out my first suspension.
To this day I have never forged my parents signature for anything. You can even ask my mom. She has even tried to get me to sign inconsequential documents like a race registration for her and I just won't do it. I guess I am afraid of getting grounded. I found out many years later that my parents we trying to hold in their laughter when I presented them with the red light and the forged yellow-light signature.
The point is I learned my lesson in first grade about what is right and wrong and I have never done it again. I hope today a 5th grader learned her lesson about stealing other people's ideas and trying to pass them off as her own.
I am not sure what lesson I will learn from this. I am sure tomorrow's meeting with her parents will bring some light to the issue.
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