There are two kinds of children- there are Eduardos and there are Philipos. Kenny and I each teach a class of 10 first graders. Now the back story is that he wasn't horribly excited about teaching at this particular school with such a high number of students. I pushed him to try it so he decided to do a trial period. My persuasive argument included: he could share in lovely conversation with me during our commute, it pays well an hour, if we take this class and the school likes us they will give us additional contracts, it will be good experience for our future teaching adventures in Asia, and did I already mention spending time with me on the train? Thus, I was the one who was positive about this opportunity and who pushed for us both to do it.
This is when I make the distinction between the two types of children. Eduardo looks up at you with doe eyes and will quietly repeat any word you have just spoken to him in English. Philipo screams in defiance and instead of repeating you will turn to the student next to him and punch he or she in the arm. Now statistically speaking you would assume there would be an even dispersal of both Eduardos and Philipos in each class of 10. NOPE.
Guess what kind of children Kenny got in his classroom? ALL EDUARDOS. Yep. Last night we walked out of the school and he smiles to himself and says “Those kids are so cute. There was this quiet little Asian girl who would repeat everything I said at a whisper. And there was a little boy with a little Italian hair cut and he sat with his little Italian legs crossed... oh and this other little boy kept running up to things and pointing out their color... oh and...”. You want to know how my day went? Lets just say that I don't have just one Philipo but two. That's right, two loud obnoxious trouble makers. Their favorite pastime is ripping up the workbooks and materials I have brought to class. I call them Philipo numero uno and Philipo numero due. Numero uno is the instigator. He punches other students, runs in circles around the class, pushes desks, and claims he needs to use the restroom 8 times an hour.
Walking out the building last night the only thing I could think of was: “that was a disaster- I don't know if I can do it again...” Meanwhile Kenny prances along like a unicorn recently saved from Lord Voldemort. I guess that is how it goes. Serves me right- I got him into this and he gets the good class. Oh well by the end of this I will know commands such as “don't touch him”, “sit down and listen”, “sit on the chair not the desk”, “pull your pants up”, “only one person on the toilet at a time”, “no I don't understand you and yes I am not Italian”.
Side note: as I type this Kenny is telling Andrea about his class. He showed them a picture of a spider and one student yelled “Spider man!”. So then the whole class and he start shooting web out of their wrists... so cute a bonding moment. He also recounts how they quietly took turns walking to the blackboard and drawing different objects they had just gone over. The concept of taking turns is very foreign to my class. And I actually know enough Italian to give them some sort of direction. Kenny no Italian just his sweet gentlemanly charm. Another thing that is so not fair, one of the mothers from his class is American and offered to help him teach.
If you have ever taught a group of first graders, and are thinking its not that bad. My question is did you speak their language? Could you explain to them why they should keep their pants pulled up verbally and not through charades? All I can say is that I really hope there was a kid out of school with the flu from Kenny's class who ends up being a loud, obnoxious, Shrek like kid.
Still hanging in there with my sanity...
Kristin
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