This is a blog I wrote in 2014 when I was 27. I volunteered for 4 months teaching English in a school in a Mestizo community in the Amazon Jungle in Ecuador.
Yesterday was my first day of school. I'll admit straight away--I wasn’t expecting this. Shocking, I know.
It’s this constant dissonance, this coincidentia oppositorum that keeps catching me off guard.. At first, I thought teaching English here was going to be like something out of “The Sound of Music”. The kids and I, sitting on the jungle floor in a circle, singing “doe a deer” until sundown...
However, when I arrived, Hector (my host) informed me that the school runs the Ecuadorian “Ministry of Education” approved school year program, which means a real high school diploma for these kids at the end of their education.
The school consists of three buildings and a staff of five teachers. “Right then,” I thought, “if it’s the real deal, then let’s get this show on the road…”
First day, the whole school is standing in front of the Ecuadorian flag, (for a minute there I thought we were all going to sing the national anthem, but no, just) a few words of inspiration spoken by Hector to greet the new year, and we’re off!
They have their own way of starting the day, as well as ending and beginning classes: an old mechanical alarm that one of the teachers 'rings'. Alarm, as in fire alarm--you know--the high-pitched wailing type. Having grown up in Israel, obviously my first thought was, “Oh my God! What do they do if there’s an emergency? How can they tell the difference?” Then I realized, these people have never heard a real siren before! They have no police, no cars, no ambulances or fire-engines, no earthquakes, no fires, no floods. The siren that marks the beginning of school has no other cognitive association or significance… Weird.
I enter my first classroom and greet my two students. That’s right, two. One of them, aged 22, looks even more frightened than me. I guess it’s their first day too. Actually, when I entered the class one of the students was in the bathroom, so I decided to wait for him. When half the class is missing, you can’t just start as if nothing happened.
To be honest, I was quite nervous about starting to teach. Even though my Spanish has come along since I arrived, there’s a difference between chatting around the dinner table and taking control of a classroom. After my first day, or more specifically after my first lesson, all of my anxieties vanished due to a number of reasons.
The difference between these 22 year old students and the 7 year old, primary school Israeli students I taught is obviously indescribable... Certainly the age difference has a lot to do with it. And indeed, these students have all chosen to be here--none of them have to--but it’s not just that. The lack of good authoritative teaching and parenting in Israel (and indeed in a lot of western, individualistic societies) is more apparent from here. For example, the children here, of all ages, help with doing chores around the house. Hell, by the time they turn 19 they’re running their own households! Their willful succumbing to authority from a young age makes them much better students (in the non-Freirenien sense of the word). Don’t get me wrong, I am of course forever indebted to the free, individualistic society that I was raised in, even though I suffered there by being a ‘bad student’. But what can I say, the less individualistic a person is, the quieter a student he’ll be in the classroom. At least that’s what I’ve learned from my experience as a teacher, as well as a student.
Finally, of course, the classrooms have a much smaller number of students than in Israel--up to a maximum of fifteen, and most classrooms have fewer. However, the reason I was no longer anxious wasn’t just the situation here, or the students, it was also both my reactions and my behavior to the situation. Every time I step in front of a classroom, I can’t explain it, it just feels so natural. Especially when I know the subject well. There’s no other feeling quite like standing in front of an audience and imparting knowledge. I must admit, I would love to do it professionally someday, to become a lecturer and actually be paid to talk.
I noticed this, last year as well: it doesn’t matter how I show up for class-- tired, sick, fed up, not in the mood (all the normal feelings I get before starting work in the morning), as soon as I stand in front of the class, all those feelings disappear. This wave of energy runs through my body until the end of class. Every time! I think it’s because of the awareness that “it all hinges on you”. You know that as soon as you stop talking, this deafening silence falls on the classroom and all eyes turn to you to see how you’ll handle it. That pressure keeps you pumped full of adrenaline for the whole, all-too-short 40 minutes.
Things really were going well and the big test came three days later when I had my first lesson without Rosita, who had accompanied me as a helpful translator until then. It was the most fun I’ve had in a lesson so far… We made great progress, and I think the students had a good time too. A good indication is always how present and cooperative they are in the lesson, and they were the most responsive class I've had yet.
Some of the other students are still quite timid, and others still are completely silent until I turn to them directly, but I’ll win them over.
It can definitely be scary at times too, if you start losing the students’ interest because you don’t know what comes next in the lesson, or you’re not sure of yourself. The students start to get bored, and nothing is more dangerous to a teacher than a bored student. Trust me, I know. I was bored for nearly all of my 12 years at school. The students’ interest is the teacher’s responsibility. That is what she’s there to do. It’s not always easy... Sure, to keep 22 year olds (and indeed younger ones) interested in learning a foreign language. That’s what keeps you, the teacher, interested. It becomes a kind of game. Sometimes a hard one too. The other day, for example, I spent most of the lesson teaching them out of the wrong textbook. I didn’t realize this until 10 minutes before the end, when suddenly it became clear why they didn’t recognize any of the dialogue they had been learning for the last few lessons...
So, it’s safe to say that I have finally begun my teaching experience in Ecuador. If I had to sum up the first week, I’d say it was unexpected, which is true of nearly all the weeks I’ve been here.
And indeed, this blog experience has turned out to be quite unusually unexpected… I do hope that if any of you have any questions or comments you will feel free to ask me. Otherwise, this just feels kinda preachy to me. I already know what I have to say… I wanna know what you have to say.
P.S.
Allow me to borrow a concept from Freire one last time. As if! one last time…(you really should read him if you have the time and speak the language. I really think it could have an important impact on what and how, you, and indeed all of us, think about education https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pedagogy_of_the_Oppressed). Why don’t we try to make this into a two-way story. Where there is no longer a one sided stream of information, but a dual carriageway of ideas where the line between teller and listener is blurred to the point where you can’t tell who is the leader Diablog? Like dialogue…..?
No…?
Ok… well…
It’s a work in progress…
And here u can see the students trimming the grass with machetas in their school uniforms... just like when I was in school...