July 23, 2008

LAST DAY! To be honest there isn't much to say. We started off with math problems like any other day, but, after class-wide insistence, we spent classtime sitting in a circle and playing the "what I like most about you" game. Some of the best comments were: "Mr. LeBon-Hsu is really funny," "Mr. LeBon-Hsu talks Spanish really fast," and "Mr. LeBon-Hsu runs really fast." (I told the kids that I had run track in high school, so every day at lunch they would challenge me to a race.)
Before lunch, the kids and the teachers made cards for each other. Here are some samples:




I can't help but remember what Dr. Walker warned us of before we began teaching--you will fall in love with these kids, but it'll hurt because you'll only have them for a month. I remember doubting that attachments could form so quickly over the course of a few weeks, but he was completely correct. I have an image frozen in my head of each and every student in the class--an image I will have with me regardless of what happens over the next few years. In my head, I can't help but think about all the difficulties they'll face with other teachers in other schools. But I'd like to think I made an important, if minute, contribution to their learning experience, both academic and social. I'll miss them all.

July 22, 2008

Finally, the race issue comes up. In the back of my mind, I'd been trying to anticipate what to say in response to the question: "Why do you look like that, Mr. LeBon-Hsu?"
Ahmed said to me, "What's wrong with your eyes, Mr. LeBon-Hsu?" He must have noticed I flinched...I didn't expect his question to be so direct, or so reminiscent of the racism I'd encountered throughout my life.
I fumbled on an appropriate response. "That's not a very nice question. Do you think it's polite to ask that?" He nodded, but I think he was just picking up on my hurt feelings...after all, had he known it wasn't a "nice question," he wouldn't have asked me! I wasn't angry at him, of course, and he meant nothing by it (after all, we were buddies), but I think I was just really caught off guard. I went to go help another student, and Ms. von Furt subtly took Ahmed aside. After a few minutes, when I checked in to see how he and Barney were doing, he said "I'm sorry, Mr. LeBon-Hsu." I responded as cheerfully as I could, "It's ok, Ahmed, don't even worry about it. I know you weren't trying to be mean."
Later on, Ms. von Furt informed me of what she said: "I took Ahmed aside and I said, 'Hold our your arm.' Then I held out mine. 'Are we the same color, or different?' Ahmed said, 'Different.'
'That's right. My family is French, and yours is Pakistani. Mr. LeBon-Hsu's family is Malaysian. How would you feel if someone made fun of how you looked, or where you were from?'
'Not very good.'
'Now, do you understand why Mr. LeBon-Hsu got upset?'
'Yes,' he replied, after which he apologized to me.

The way Ms. von Furt reacted in this situation was just about perfect, I think. She was able to call attention to racism in such a way that a child could understand through personal experience. After four years of ethnic studies and postcolonial studies, I was more used to having hour-long conversations...consequently, it was very difficult for me to explain, in children's terms, why some questions are inappropriate to ask. Overall, a good lesson, and I think Ahmed and my relationship is still the same as it was before, with perhaps more respect.

July 21, 2008

As the final week begins, I've noticed the strangest thing--we've actually gotten through to these kids! I'm speaking academically, in this case. Today, I was reading a story about how Egyptians kept cool in the desert. After reading, we did another Venn diagram. Immediately after I asked people to contribute, they began throwing out information we had done last week, discussing food. They remembered things that even I had forgotten. Despite the fact that they didn't start off doing what I asked of them, they were still able to recall information we covered a week beforehand! I was pleased.

I find teaching phonics extraordinarily frustrating. Every day, the teachers rotate who leads which learning station, and this time I was placed in the phonics section. For some reason, going "aaa. aaa." over and over is very difficult for me to do. I still have trouble stepping outside of my "adult mind" and into the shoes of someone learning English for the first time, or at least learning how words are constructed. That's the irony, I suppose--the simplest concepts are the most difficult to express. I'm unsure of my feelings on the Whole Language vs. Phonics debate, because in this class we completely on phonics, but I'd definitely be interested in seeing/trying to incorporate whole language into my own approach towards teaching.

On a more positive note, I'm finding a way around my personal dislike of math. I remember on one of the first days, one of the boys said to me, "Man, this math is so boring!" I almost wanted to say, "I know, right!" But instead I tried to rephrase the instructions in the book, which really didn't do much since I was just paraphrasing something already boring. After seeing what Ms. von Furt did with other children, I've eventually learning how to incorporate real-life examples to get kids to care about math. This worked especially when Ahmed and Barney started doing word problems. At first, they complained and said they couldn't think of anything. I finally thought of a good example:

"Ok, Ahmed, let's say you, Barney and your two sisters and brother are going to the mall."
"I hate going to the mall. I hate going out with my sisters."
"Ok. Let's say after you get there, you and Barney run away to play soccer in the field next door."
"Ok."
"How many people are left at the mall? How many people are at the soccer field?"

After counting it out in his head, he arrived at the correct answer. Barney came up with an idea on his own (inspired, I'd like to think, by my bringing up the mall), which involved buying shoes with Ahmed. I don't mean to be conceited, but I think I've come a bit far from not being able to say anything to being able to "freestyle" math problems that are fun and applicable to the kids' lives. (NOTE: Barney seemed to really like the word problem that involved him having three girlfriends, hilariously enough.)

July 17, 2008

A strange thing happened today, and I can't really think of much more to speak of for this journal entry.

Mimi asked if she could speak with me in private after class. Dreading the worst, I said "All right." After everyone had left, she and I stayed behind to talk. I remember thinking, "Oh man, I'm so not prepared for this...I've only been teaching for three weeks. I hope it's nothing serious."

"I'm sad because my daddy died," Mimi told me.

"Oh my God, Mimi, I'm so sorry. When did this happen?"

"A few months ago. I've been thinking about it."

"What happened?"

She proceeded to tell me that she witnessed someone shooting her father, and running to him as he died. I was in complete shock.

"That's terrible, Mimi, I'm so, so sorry. Is there a reason you've been thinking about it today?" I didn't know if that was the right answer.

She nodded. "Yeah, someone called me stupid, and said my dad was stupid too."

"Well, that's an awful, awful thing to say," I remember saying. "I'm sure whoever said that didn't really know your daddy like you did. And you're definitely not stupid, Mimi. I'm your teacher, I've seen all the great things you've done this summer! And we're all so proud of you, as I'm sure your dad is, wherever he is right now. Wherever he is, I'm sure he can see you and is so, so proud of you. Do you know that?"

She nodded. "Do you feel better?" She shook her head. "Well, what can we do to make you feel better?" I asked. I was still in shock, and I didn't know what else to say. I've never seen myself as an particularly emotionally supportive person.

"Could I have a hug?" she asked.

"Of course!" I hugged her, even though we've been told we shouldn't hug. I figured I should make an exception now, of all times. "Do you feel better now?" She nodded and smiled a little. "Ok, good. Let's go to lunch now! I bet you're hungry!"

Still pretty shaken by it, I told the other teachers. What resulted later was almost as surprising.
Later on, after some time, Ms. von Furt told me that she had spoken with Mimi's mother, asking very politely the circumstances of Mimi's father's death. According to Ms. von Furt, Mimi's mother said casually, "Yeah, he died. But she was just a few months old. She never even met him. I don't know why she's talking about it."

I left feeling very odd about the whole situation. Why would she lie about that? What made her tell it to me so gravely, with such conviction? I'm definitely happy that she didn't witness her father's death. Nevertheless, I'm still confused by the whole situation...

July 16, 2008

Two new students arrived today: Tammy and Noah. I'm still so pleasantly surprised by how receptive the other kids are to newcomers. I remember when I was around sixth-grade age, new kids always seemed to go through a period of ostracism. Maybe the fact that our class is so small makes it much harder for "cliques" to form. In either case, they joined our class seamlessly.
Noah's performance was ok on the math assessment; Tammy performed extremely well. Both of them, especially Tammy, seem like very smart kids. I remember thinking to myself today, "In a way, it's kind of a good thing we didn't read or see much about these kids' disabilities--had we known, I'm pretty sure we would have behaved differently, whether intentional or not. With the exception of Jojo and Kevin, whose disabilities are very apparent academically and socially, I would never have guessed that we were working with special education students. Each one of these kids has exhibited a skill that he or she excels in. For that, I'm very proud of them.
I hadn't mentioned before, but Ahmed has a stutter. So far, we haven't been informed why. Ms. von Furt's guess is that if we were to see an IEP, "language" would probably pop up somewhere. However, the stutter's expression is so rare, that for now I'll work under the assumption that he just has too much to say at once. Who can fault anyone for that? Better that he participate wholeheartedly (which he does) without feeling self-conscious. I must also commend all the other students for never, ever making it an issue.
The other DC teaching fellow led the class today. It's pretty interesting to see how different our teaching styles are. While I joke around with the kids a lot, and occasionally use the "teacher voice" when needed, Ms. Zhou is soft-spoken, calm and serious. When there is an issue of misbehavior, she doesn't have to raise her voice or make herself sound snappy--somehow, she accomplishes the same exact thing I do with the "teacher voice" without really changing the volume or cadence of her voice. I wonder now: how much should I try to incorporate Ms. Zhou's teaching style into mine? At what point can I decide what works well for me, and what I could actually try to emulate? Ms. Zhou and I are very different people, but we manage a good working relationship; maybe this would be a good way to internalize our teaching styles as well.

July 15, 2008

Today was the first day I got to lead a lesson for the whole day. It actually wasn't really that difficult, considering we're supposed to be following the Voyager lesson plans (which I'm still not a fan of). This day's proposed lesson plan was a bit odd, considering it called for the teacher to bring in "traditional" ancient Egyptian food--lentils, fish, among other things that I don't think I can be expected to provide. Instead, for our "food lesson," I chose to have the students make their own Egyptian meals with some construction paper we had in the room. As we had learned, I avoided showing them what the food was "supposed" to look like; rather, I drew the kids' attention to the illustrations in the book, saying, "This is how the authors of the book decided to draw the food. You can draw it any way you want; it doesn't have to look exactly like the picture here." Some of the kids seemed to enjoy the activity, while others (Ahmed) claimed that they were bored and wanted to go to lunch.

I led the reading circle today, as well. Once everyone got settled, it was relatively smooth sailing. Once when I noticed that the kids were getting antsy, I got everyone to stand up and "shake out their legs." It seems that short, two-minute breaks really do pay off--especially when you consider how much longer it would take were the children just sitting there agitated, not paying attention. I know I would probably feel out of it, too.

Throughout the entire thing, I tried to keep Jojo involved wit the group discussion after I was done reading. Ms. von Furt said that I did a good job of making sure he was participating, but aside from giving him the opportunity to make comments, I'm unsure as to how constructive that was. Like previous times, I would ask a question ("What did Egyptian children usually eat?"), and the class would respond. Pretty much everyone was able to answer me, even Kevin! However, when I called on Jojo, he said something unintelligible. I said, "Thank you Jojo. Now, can anyone expound on what he was saying?" Granted, the word "expound" is too difficult for the grades we're working with, but I think the vagueness actually helped keep the discussion going. The other kids just assumed it mean "Let's continue," which we did.

Overall, I think this day went quite well.

July 14, 2008

I felt ill today, so I had to call in sick. Nevertheless, here are some thoughts:

School lunches should be improved, in many ways. Ahmed is Muslim, so he cannot eat pork; on top of that, he's the pickiest eater I know--"Ew, that's nasty. I'm not eating that!" Every day so far (except for one), he's just eaten the dessert, and sometimes the fruit. Looking at the food they're given, I can't say I can really blame him. There seems to be very little that's actually nutritious. However, on the other hand, I suppose providing more nutritious food that still looks appealing to children might be a bit difficult to do.