A Week In The Life Thursday, February 02, 2012 |
My kids are crazy.
Since this is my first teaching gig, it's really hard to know for sure if my kids are any more crazy than normal kids in Canada. Sure. kids are crazy, but I am leaning towards the theory that there are a combination of factors contributing to making my Thai classroom on average a much more random, incident-filled place than the average Canadian junior high classroom.
Of course, there's really know way to say with certainty. So this is the plan. I want to document the several crazy incidents that stick out just from the past few days, and at some point, years down the line, I will look back on this post and, from my new vantage point of wisdom and experience, be able to say with decisive authority either, "Yes, they are more crazy," or "No, kids are like that everywhere". To be fair, some of these incidents are
But it all begins with documentation.
Monday, Jan 30, 2012. P3/1 (Grade 3) Phonics:
In the middle of my instructions to a class of students I am subbing for for the first time, a girl in the front softly interrupts me mid-sentence to ask, "Why is your neck so long?"
(Amused, I replied: "That's just the way I was made.")
Later in class, the students are becoming noisy so I get their attention by clapping and then start speaking very quietly to have them quiet down and listen. The same girl again pipes in mid-sentence, wondering, "Why is your voice so soft?"
(She gets the same answer.)
Tuesday, Jan 31, 2012. M2 (Grade 8) ELA:
About 10 minutes into class, and for no apparent reason, one of my student chucks down a stink-bomb into the centre aisle of the classroom. They break into pandemonium and rush for the doors with a flair for the dramatic. I respond by calling them back to their seats, taking away the self-serve bathroom passes, and not allowing my gagging students to leave. "If you want your classroom to smell like this, that's up to you," I tell them, "but you're not leaving."
A flurry of sprayed baby powder and perfume ensues, the classroom smelling like a funky mess, and one student looking like a ghost as he desperately smears baby powder all over his face and up his nose.
(Later, as I am leaving class, I see the students run across the hall and lob another stink bomb into the M3 [Grade 9] classroom. Not my problem, I decide.)
Wednesday, Feb 1, 2012. M1 (Grade 7) ELA:
One of my students spends his class time suctioning an empty plastic juice bottle to his face. When caught, he gives his usual high-pitched (yet adorable) screech, and a giggle. The result? A hicky that can still be seen on Thursday.
Same day. Same class. M1 (Grade 7) Health:
Teaching my students about fitness and exercise, I introduce the FITT Principle: Frequency, Intensity, Time, and Type of Activity. For the FITT principle, I write the letters MTWTF on the board, circling M, W, and F, to demonstrate that someone could, for example, exercise 3 times a week. My students are lost in snickers and giggles, having no clue what the English acronym "MTWTF" stands for but a good idea of what "WTF" means. When I say out loud the words "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday," they all groan "Aaah" in sudden comprehension.
(Several students refuse to believe or accept this new knowledge.)
Thursday, Feb 2, 2012. M1 (Grade 7) Health:
Going over the major muscles of the human body, I see one of my girls with a pencil hovered over the groin area of the diagram on her page, about to add some anatomical embellishment to the currently asexual male figure before her. We lock eyes and I tell her with a smirk, "Don't do it..." She and her nearby co-conspirators erupt into nervous laughter at being "caught" as I go on to remind them that they'll be handing their booklets in to me, and I'll be seeing any "artwork" they end up drawing. By this point the whole class is giggling.
Later on in class I draw a picture of a stick figure standing on his head, which, by gauging the laughter in the room, I quickly conclude is appearing phallic to the hormone-overloaded 13-year-olds in front of me. I make a few minor adjustments and wait for the giggling to pass.
I know this post is called "A Week In The Life", but it's a six-day work week, and today's only Thursday. To round out my "week" I will reach back to last Friday, the epic day known as Sports Day at The School, where only a handful of students actually played sports.
This was an event that required no less than 3 days of classes-canceled "preparation", and where my female M1 and M2 students became literally unrecognizable, smeared in makeup and squeezed into bar-girl style cheerleading outfits (sometimes with several wardrobe changes, often with tiaras, at times in high heels, and even occasionally with capes) and were the only ones who got more than 20 minutes of exercise in the whole day, literally dancing for hours straight, performing polished cheerleading routines (often "sexy", some routines involving chairs, lots of "bends and snaps", hand gestures, chest-pops, and suggestive body gestures) from 8 AM until 3PM almost without ceasing. This, it turned out, was what the 3 days of preparation was really for.
(This cake-face, hoochie dress policy even extended to our Pre-K program, where 4 and 5 year olds became real live Toddlers in Tiaras before my eyes last week. Proud parents hovered with cameras all day long.)
The students who weren't "good at sports" didn't actually get to play anything all day, although they may have participated in the tug-of-war. The non-participating students sat on the floor all day, while the cheerleaders danced in front of them, blocking their view of the events unfolding on the field or court.
There's not a lot else to say for The School's Sports Day. It was certainly memorable. It reflected and informed about the nature of Thai culture, and especially the role of women in Thai culture. As such, it was a valuable experience, whatever else it may have been.
Since this is my first teaching gig, it's really hard to know for sure if my kids are any more crazy than normal kids in Canada. Sure. kids are crazy, but I am leaning towards the theory that there are a combination of factors contributing to making my Thai classroom on average a much more random, incident-filled place than the average Canadian junior high classroom.
Of course, there's really know way to say with certainty. So this is the plan. I want to document the several crazy incidents that stick out just from the past few days, and at some point, years down the line, I will look back on this post and, from my new vantage point of wisdom and experience, be able to say with decisive authority either, "Yes, they are more crazy," or "No, kids are like that everywhere". To be fair, some of these incidents are
But it all begins with documentation.
Monday, Jan 30, 2012. P3/1 (Grade 3) Phonics:
In the middle of my instructions to a class of students I am subbing for for the first time, a girl in the front softly interrupts me mid-sentence to ask, "Why is your neck so long?"
(Amused, I replied: "That's just the way I was made.")
Later in class, the students are becoming noisy so I get their attention by clapping and then start speaking very quietly to have them quiet down and listen. The same girl again pipes in mid-sentence, wondering, "Why is your voice so soft?"
(She gets the same answer.)
Tuesday, Jan 31, 2012. M2 (Grade 8) ELA:
About 10 minutes into class, and for no apparent reason, one of my student chucks down a stink-bomb into the centre aisle of the classroom. They break into pandemonium and rush for the doors with a flair for the dramatic. I respond by calling them back to their seats, taking away the self-serve bathroom passes, and not allowing my gagging students to leave. "If you want your classroom to smell like this, that's up to you," I tell them, "but you're not leaving."
A flurry of sprayed baby powder and perfume ensues, the classroom smelling like a funky mess, and one student looking like a ghost as he desperately smears baby powder all over his face and up his nose.
(Later, as I am leaving class, I see the students run across the hall and lob another stink bomb into the M3 [Grade 9] classroom. Not my problem, I decide.)
Wednesday, Feb 1, 2012. M1 (Grade 7) ELA:
One of my students spends his class time suctioning an empty plastic juice bottle to his face. When caught, he gives his usual high-pitched (yet adorable) screech, and a giggle. The result? A hicky that can still be seen on Thursday.
Same day. Same class. M1 (Grade 7) Health:
Teaching my students about fitness and exercise, I introduce the FITT Principle: Frequency, Intensity, Time, and Type of Activity. For the FITT principle, I write the letters MTWTF on the board, circling M, W, and F, to demonstrate that someone could, for example, exercise 3 times a week. My students are lost in snickers and giggles, having no clue what the English acronym "MTWTF" stands for but a good idea of what "WTF" means. When I say out loud the words "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday," they all groan "Aaah" in sudden comprehension.
(Several students refuse to believe or accept this new knowledge.)
Thursday, Feb 2, 2012. M1 (Grade 7) Health:
Going over the major muscles of the human body, I see one of my girls with a pencil hovered over the groin area of the diagram on her page, about to add some anatomical embellishment to the currently asexual male figure before her. We lock eyes and I tell her with a smirk, "Don't do it..." She and her nearby co-conspirators erupt into nervous laughter at being "caught" as I go on to remind them that they'll be handing their booklets in to me, and I'll be seeing any "artwork" they end up drawing. By this point the whole class is giggling.
Later on in class I draw a picture of a stick figure standing on his head, which, by gauging the laughter in the room, I quickly conclude is appearing phallic to the hormone-overloaded 13-year-olds in front of me. I make a few minor adjustments and wait for the giggling to pass.
I know this post is called "A Week In The Life", but it's a six-day work week, and today's only Thursday. To round out my "week" I will reach back to last Friday, the epic day known as Sports Day at The School, where only a handful of students actually played sports.
This was an event that required no less than 3 days of classes-canceled "preparation", and where my female M1 and M2 students became literally unrecognizable, smeared in makeup and squeezed into bar-girl style cheerleading outfits (sometimes with several wardrobe changes, often with tiaras, at times in high heels, and even occasionally with capes) and were the only ones who got more than 20 minutes of exercise in the whole day, literally dancing for hours straight, performing polished cheerleading routines (often "sexy", some routines involving chairs, lots of "bends and snaps", hand gestures, chest-pops, and suggestive body gestures) from 8 AM until 3PM almost without ceasing. This, it turned out, was what the 3 days of preparation was really for.
(This cake-face, hoochie dress policy even extended to our Pre-K program, where 4 and 5 year olds became real live Toddlers in Tiaras before my eyes last week. Proud parents hovered with cameras all day long.)
The students who weren't "good at sports" didn't actually get to play anything all day, although they may have participated in the tug-of-war. The non-participating students sat on the floor all day, while the cheerleaders danced in front of them, blocking their view of the events unfolding on the field or court.
There's not a lot else to say for The School's Sports Day. It was certainly memorable. It reflected and informed about the nature of Thai culture, and especially the role of women in Thai culture. As such, it was a valuable experience, whatever else it may have been.