Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Moon Class



My 4:40-6:10 class is a lively bunch, mixed in age and ability. I've got a high-achieving seven year old and a low achieving 10 year old and everything in the middle. One of the boys has the craziest inability to sit still I've even seen; on my second day observing the class I witnessed him put his entire head into his backpack and zip the zippers to his neck, not removing it until he was asked to. He's also known for doing handstands in class, bringing strange objects to class and making obnoxious noises with them, and presuming he knows everything about the English language. There's also the adorable but insecure girl who wants you to help her through absolutely every worksheet and question (even if she knows the answer), the girl who thinks she's brilliant even though she never gets more than half of the questions on her homework right, the boy who just won't stop talking, and the silent but brilliant genius girl who recently earned her 20th sticker (meaning she's gotten As on 20 tests!).

Some of the kids have the classic disease where they think that if they finish first then they must be the best, even if they've got all of the answers wrong. Luckily, though, they're still at an age when they think teachers know everything. No matter how crazy the classroom gets they're afraid of getting sent into the hall or getting an F for their behavior grades. Also, there's never a shortage of hands in the air when I need an answer for a question and the majority of them earnestly try to get As on tests (especially since that earns them a sticker).

The subject matter for the class is mostly typical of a second to third grade English class. We work on reading comprehension, phonics, and grammar every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays we focus on spelling and a poem. Ideally I'd like for them to be reading a book and then utilizing the skills from their reading comprehension textbook on a story and drawing our spelling and phonics words from there, but the class and school aren't set up for that (in regards to time and parental focus on textbook achievement). The poem we're currently working on is actually the lyrics to "On Top of Spaghetti," one of my favorite songs from when I was little. Since it's fairly long I broke it into sections and we just finished the first two last week. We had ANOTHER typhoon yesterday, when we were supposed to start the third and fourth sections, but I'm quite alright with spending a day at home instead of teaching the kids to memorize a poem.

Even though this class can have some rough days, we've definitely come to a point where we know what to expect of each other and that's lead to some great progress lately. They may not always behave the best or do all their homework, but at least they're still easily bribed by stickers and candy!


3 comments:

Unknown said...

I was talking to my teacher friends about you and Adam and the joys of taking on mixed-age, ESl education classes. They all seem to think you would be having the same feelings in your first classroom at the beginning of the school year no matter what country you are in. At least in Taiwan you have the luxury of extra bluffing abilities, and the chance to go home once you run out.

Devin said...

leonie,
I'm sure you're right. Since I watched most of my friends struggle through their first years last year, it's only right that I take my turn now. Luckily, though, I had the benefit of hearing their horrors and successes before I started out here. I do get the added bonus, though, of support from parents since they're the ones paying for the classes!

Mom/Dad said...

Dear Devin,

On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese, there sat my poor meat ball, till somebody sneezed.

It rolled on the table, it rolled on the floor, then my poor meatball, rolled right out the door.

It rolled down the sidewalk, it rolled down the street, then my poor meatball, got squished under some feet.

His feet went up, he landed on his rear, and from the crowd came, oh my dear. Forget the sympathy, he shouted, just bring me a beer.


Take Great Care,
Adam's Dad