The Beginning Teacher

SCHOOL.

Let me know if this sounds crazy: one month after completing a degree in biology, you decide to move to India. You have never done any teaching in your life, aside from a small amount of tutoring math and physics, all at level grade 9 or higher. Nonetheless, you decide to become the art teacher for the entire elementary school, covering ages 4-13, at a prestigious private Christian school – not student teacher, mind you, but full-responsibilities, going-to-staff-meetings, designing-curriculums, main teacher.

Strangely, this scenario didn’t seem crazy to me at all, a couple of months ago. Even a couple of weeks ago, it seemed reasonable. Two days before classes started, though, I realized that it was absolute madness. I wasn’t able to write this blog entry till now because I’ve been absolutely swamped by making a giant mental adjustment (from college student… to elementary school teacher!), and learning how to deal with scenarios like this: Grade Five. Most of the kids have English as a second language; about one-third are Korean, which presents several problems: 1, their English is not very good and they often don’t understand instructions; 2, they only want to sit with other Koreans and speak in Korean; 3, they constantly try to speak to you in Korean, ask you if you’re from Korea, and mutter discontentedly when you don’t speak Korean, because you look Korean and therefore must be able to speak it and are simply holding out on them out of spite. Many of them have just begun boarding at Kodaikanal, and their families are thousands of miles away. Also, it has been – well, a good 10 years, at least – since you spoke to anyone in grade five, and just spitting out sentences that they’ll understand is a challenge, even when their English skills are good. Furthermore, they really like drawing on each other with oil pastel, when they're not busy dribbling watercolor paint all over the floor in an earnest attempt to put their painting on the counter to dry.

FUN.

And, actually, it is. Because there are also these things: three little girls in grade two, who shout “Miss! Miss!” and then run up and hug me every time they see me, their little heads only reaching my belly-button. There’s the most lovely – and talented – little boy in fifth grade, who came up to me in the lunch line today to tell me that he’d read a book, and in the book there was a picture of a totem pole (that’s the project I’m working on with his class). He was so shy I didn’t realize he was speaking to me at first, because he was looking way off behind me and to the side; but he wanted to tell me very badly, so he just blurted it all out, shuffling from foot to foot, and then darted back to his table. A constant delight can be found in the staff of the elementary school, who teach me so much every day; with their every motion and word, they show me how to be a patient, caring, effective teacher, and how to love these little children surrounding us. There’s also Buddy, the unofficial school dog, who naps on the lawn all day during class and wakes up for recess and lunch to be petted and adored by the children. And speaking of lunch, every day there is a delicious lunch, different each time - why is it that cafeteria food is better than most Indian restaurants back at home? – and every time I completely stuff myself and then fill in the corners with sweet, milky tea. I’m going to leave India a giant blob of paneer paratha (a flat bread with sauces and paneer, which is similar to cheese, but actually condensed curdled milk) and dal (delicious lentil curry).

I’m settling in as a teacher; I still have so much to learn, but this second week is infinitely easier than the last. It’s a bit exhilarating to feel myself expanding so rapidly. The first time I stood in front of a classroom I was terrified; now I feel relatively comfortable. I have an idea of what children will or won’t do, and how to get them to calm down and behave. It’s almost like magic, the way children obey… I think of them as autonomous individuals, and it seems ludicrous that you could say, “I’ve written your name on a bit of paper and put it next to a seat, now you must sit in that seat.” And just like that; they’ll sit in the seat! Of course there is occasionally dissent, but they do it. They can be amazingly, mind-bogglingly disobedient, as well, but I'm learning to cope.

Even the middle-school boys are growing on me!

Love, Jenn