Today, that is. Yesterday at my meeting, Maribel mentioned to the teachers that she had observed all of them (Mabel told me she had made a visit on Tuesday) except me. The reason she had saved me was that she had seen me so many times. She's at my school a lot. When I told her that we had a meeting at 10:30 on Friday to ask if we could go observe in other schools, she said that would be fine, that we would go after my observation. This was the first I had heard of it.
Again, observations don't make me nervous really, because every day my first year teaching at Lockeland was like an observation. I had teachers in my room with every class, but also we had guest visitors to the school almost weekly. Since Spanish is part of what makes our elementary school unique, the guest visitors would always pass by my room before leaving (and often had many questions for the principal).
I was not worried about this observation. However, I had heard Maribel explaining that she couldn't give an "excellent" to anyone because they didn't have the posters put up and all the specific things from a checklist (this is one of those things that would really irk me if I lived here- a checklist that has nothing to do with teaching ability and information learned). Maribel always arrives early when she comes to my school (much like me, but she often beats me). Mexican protocol says that even though she's my boss and there for professional reasons, I am to spend that time socially with her- not preparing for my upcoming classes.
This is very opposite of what would happen in Nashville. If my supervisor came, I would be courteous and polite, but I would also be busy getting things together. The multi-tasking would be a positive thing in her eyes.
My feeling, based on her comments to the other teachers regarding a mark of excellent, was that my observation would be a little more critiqued and "official" this time.
Since I had nothing prepared to wow her (since I didn't know until the day before, when I wasn't at school and able to get something together), I did my best to come up with an activity and wanted to get to school early(er) to be ready when Maribel got there to chat.
I must've hit snooze about 4 times this morning, and I blame it on the fact that my alarm clock functions like me: pre-7am shouldn't exist. (In the US, my equivalent would be pre-6am, but when in Mexico...) I got out the door and on the very crowded bus around 7:40 (only a few minutes earlier than I get on for a normal 8:50 day). Add to that the fact that the driver was slow and rough and that it was an air-less bus (it was cool enough outside, but a crowded bus with not much ventilation does not a happy ride make [Bewley are you reading?! Who ya wit'?]). I was annoyed when I arrived at 8:20, but my nerves were soon settled upon realizing Maribel had not yet arrived.
I scurried around, made a lesson plan of sorts (an index card with an order of events), and gathered up my materials. Since there was a special ed meeting in my "office," I went to the office to hang until class time, fully expecting Maribel at any moment.
It came to be class time, and still no Maribel, so I marched on to second grade. Only they weren't there! Their bags and things were there, but no children or teacher!
Imagine my surprise.
It turns out they had gone to the tortillería (tortilla shop). Don't ask me why. I don't know. All I know is that it was like entering a classroom after field trip; good luck accomplishing anything. Still no Maribel. I began my lesson. I had a great review with the actual items we were studying (backpack, pencil sharpener, pencil case, etc) and I started by asking them what the item was. They could relatively easily produce the vocabulary words. I wrote the sentence on the board: "I have a _________." They helped me finish the sentence for each item that I did, in fact, have. There were about 3 words for which I did not have the realia. That led to the next teaching sentence: "I don't have a _________." The goal of today's class was to talk about what He/She/Name has or doesn't have. "I have" versus "I don't have" is easy since the verb doesn't change and you just add "don't." Changing from "He/She/Name has" to "He/She/Name doesn't have is a little more of a jump since the verb seems completely different. They don't see the logical transition, so it's harder to make sense of it. Thus, the visual activity. I changed my sentences on the board to: "Miss Laura has a ________." and "Miss Laura doesn't have a ________." Again, easy to plug it in. They were participating, they were quiet (when not participating), and (most importantly) they were correct.
Then it came time for them to practice in their books. There was a picture of Sandra's lunchbox and some guy's. George. It was George. Each lunchbox had three items (also new vocabulary). We discussed aloud what each person "has." They did fine.
Maribel walked in.
She says "hello" and they respond appropriately. Then all hell breaks loose. She's missed the creative part of my lesson, so I'm sad. I start asking them what eat person, George and Sandra, doesn't have. They could give me the items, which means they were understanding, but they couldn't give me the whole sentence (even as I referenced it on the board!).
The next step was fatal. They had to write sentences in their books. One example was given: "Sandra doesn't have a yogurt." It was followed by "She __________" and then just "_________." Enter the problem.
Mexican education. God bless 'em. And I mean that. I'm very frustrated with the amount of copying that goes on. Meaning homework assignments of just copying what's already given. They also copy on tests and homework, but in this instance I'm not really referring to that.
Because they're used to copying, they refuse to think for themselves. The majority of the time, they will speak the answer to me. But if I ask them to do classwork in the book, you can forget it! They wait until I write it on the board. Then I break down, lecture them in Spanish. Ask them to think for themselves and answer because I'm not going to do it for them. Then I just get frustrated. ARGH.
Their behavior was AWFUL. Two of my troublemakers were throwing papers at each other. Another was just flapping his book (that doesn't really help you read what it says and forget writing in it!) very loudly on his desk. My kid who lived in the US for a few years was answering all the questions, which is pretty much the opposite of what I wanted.
I was hot, frustrated, and ready to get out of there. (The heat, by the way, was from the frustration; it was not an exceptionally hot day.)
The bell rang, and they left for recess. This day was a short day because of some meeting. I assumed it was a typical faculty meeting, so I scheduled my observation at another school with Maribel. Apparently it was a going away party for the special ed substitute and a welcome back for Geno (she's the one who was pregnant and left for maternity leave). There were tamales, so I was sad I was leaving. However, I had been so frustrated with those kids, I was ecstatic to get out of there!
Maribel and I boarded the bus and headed back toward my house. We got off close to downtown, grabbed two coca lights, and walked the two blocks to the all girls school. As we entered, they started their recreo, and it started the same as at my school: the kids scream and then run outside. I was glad for this downtime, because we got to chat with the teacher. She has a sister that lives in Tennessee, though I couldn't understand the name of the town. And she said it was a pueblo, so with my limited knowledge of TN geography, I didn't feel too bad.
After our brief chat, the bell rang again, and the teacher (she had some nickname that I don't remember, but her real name was María) scurried off to do something. I didn't follow (figuratively, but not literally either). We walked with her to the fifth grade classroom and I was wowed by, are you ready? SIXTY TWO GIRLS. How did she do it?
I'll tell you how. Girls are quiet. And respectful. And all of these girls have working parents, so guess how many had books? All but one.
Watching her teach was bitter sweet. She spoke pure English. She did games. She solicited correct responses. They loved her.
She never had to raise her voice.
I felt like a failure. I also felt like I was somehow observing my classroom at Lockeland.
It was great to see Mexican success, but it was also hard to realize I wasn't having it!
To my credit, she has been at this school several years, so they were used to her style. And to my credit, they were girls!!! It made me realize that I could be very happy living here (if only I could make a wage), teaching at a girls' school. :) Or teaching in the same place for several years where I wasn't just trying to survive the year.
It also made me realize that there will be so many things I will miss about this place, and that re-entry into my own culture will be difficult, but that I will be excited to be teaching in "my world." There will be much comfort in the familiar.
What an emotional roller coaster of a day!
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