Salvete,
In reading over my last few blog posts, it occurred to me that I have been far too negative. I do not want anyone thinking that I hate my job. I definitely do not want anyone thinking that I dislike my students. Quite the contrary! I love my job, and I am very blessed to have it. Teaching jobs are hard to come by in our current economic climate, and one as nice as mine is especially rare. As for my students, there is not a single one that I regret currently having in class. There is not a single one that I wish would leave and never come back. They are all so different, so interesting, so angsty! How could one not love their ever-changing moods, their poorly-masked need for approval, and their desire to achieve?
Teenagers have a desire to achieve? Mine do. They are not in this special program because they are slackers. Some of them slack off, yes, but none of them are slackers. Circumstances get in the way of success sometimes. However, in the face of so many people who expect them to fail due to race, ethnicity, behavior records, or socioeconomic situations, my students stand up and refuse to fall into the stereotypes. They want more. I just have to remember that right now, they are so young, and are not yet that which they will become. But they will be. And that is all I need to know.
Valete,
Magistra
Friday, January 21, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Testing
Salvete,
I'm afraid it is now time to write a post on testing. I have mentioned such as testing before, but the spring always brings with it a fresh reminder of the joys of the standardized test. If you ask any teacher what the spring is about in public high school, one word will (if not at first, eventually) come to mind.
Testing.
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways!
1) TELPAS
2) LAT
3) TAKS
4) STAAR (new)
5) EOCs
6) AP Tests
7) Benchmarks
8) SAT/ACT/THEA (I group these because they do not affect me directly and can take place anytime of year)
9) Etc.
All of the above occur from March 1 to May 30. The school at which I earn my pay tests approximately 2800 students. Do not let this number fool you into some delusion that the students are neatly divided into classrooms in groups of 25 and tested with pretty sharpened pencils.
The state will not allow it.
No.
NO!
Each test must be administerd to a specific population, and at specific times, in specific windows. Proctoring each test requires sometimes multiple trainings. They make the trainings and proctor certifications requirements, because if they did not, no one would go and no one would be certified to proctor the test.
Below, I have provided for you a run-down of what it takes to coordinate a single test date.
1) The testing coordinator makes a giant spreadsheet, because not every student is taking every test, so for this one test date, she has to figure out who is taking what. This spreadsheet must consist of student names, student ID numbers, teachers, room numbers (but what rooms can we use? Anecdote: last year I was supposed to give the TAKS in a room that, when opened, had four wheelchairs, a teacher desk, and a changing screen), and whether that student is special ed or has any kind of accommodations.
2) The testing coordinator sends an email to everyone and forgets to attach the giant spreadsheet.
3) The testing coordinator gets about 45 emails letting her know she forgot the attachment.
4) The testing coordinator corrects her greivous error.
5) The testing coordinator gets about 53 emails letting her know what was wrong with her spreadsheet.
6) And so on.
7) Every day of the week before testing, the teachers remind the students to check the giant spreadsheet sans ID numbers and special ed info (posted in at least 8 places around the building) to ensure they go to the right room on test day.
8) The students show up on test day, vaguely aware that there is something important going on.
9) The students show up to their normal first period, and are turned away by the proctor, a stranger, who tells them to go look at one of the aforementioned 8 occurances of giant spreadsheets which have mysteriously appeared in the last week, and which the children claim never to have heard of before.
10) Testing commences.
11) Active Monitoring (AM) commences. Now, you may be asking "Shouldn't you say, "Active monitoring (Am)"? To you doubters of my abilities in understanding the rules of capitalization, I say, "Clearly you have never proctored a test." AM involves the following:
a) Forcing the students to stand outside your door as you check each one of them in.
b) Taking each student's lunch order.
c) Forcing them to part with anything they brought and put it at the front of the room.
d) Taking away and labeling their cell phones or other electronic devices.
e) Filling out a provided seating chart that does not match the dimensions of the room.
f) Taking attendance 3 times (not a hyperbole).
g) Reading the test directions and helping people understand how to write their names.
h) Admitting late students, who also require all of the above procedures.
i) Walking around the room for a period of four to five hours. You may not sit.
j) Escorting students to the bathroom like they are five years old.
k) Recording who and what time they went to the bathroom.
l) Blah blah blah.
m) Collecting all test materials and delivering them back to the office.
n) Delivering any students who are (impossibly) not finished with the test to another place.
Letters "a" through "h" must be done to 25 students in approximately 10 minutes.
12) Class (usually lunch and third period) commences. The children are drained and prone to misbehavior.
13) A movie is started in every classroom on campus, and the children form theories about why they have to come to school a full day if all we do is watch a movie after TAKS. The teachers also wonder this, and may or may not express their wonderment.
I guess that's it.
Don't you want to be a teacher?
Valete.
Magistra
I'm afraid it is now time to write a post on testing. I have mentioned such as testing before, but the spring always brings with it a fresh reminder of the joys of the standardized test. If you ask any teacher what the spring is about in public high school, one word will (if not at first, eventually) come to mind.
Testing.
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways!
1) TELPAS
2) LAT
3) TAKS
4) STAAR (new)
5) EOCs
6) AP Tests
7) Benchmarks
8) SAT/ACT/THEA (I group these because they do not affect me directly and can take place anytime of year)
9) Etc.
All of the above occur from March 1 to May 30. The school at which I earn my pay tests approximately 2800 students. Do not let this number fool you into some delusion that the students are neatly divided into classrooms in groups of 25 and tested with pretty sharpened pencils.
The state will not allow it.
No.
NO!
Each test must be administerd to a specific population, and at specific times, in specific windows. Proctoring each test requires sometimes multiple trainings. They make the trainings and proctor certifications requirements, because if they did not, no one would go and no one would be certified to proctor the test.
Below, I have provided for you a run-down of what it takes to coordinate a single test date.
1) The testing coordinator makes a giant spreadsheet, because not every student is taking every test, so for this one test date, she has to figure out who is taking what. This spreadsheet must consist of student names, student ID numbers, teachers, room numbers (but what rooms can we use? Anecdote: last year I was supposed to give the TAKS in a room that, when opened, had four wheelchairs, a teacher desk, and a changing screen), and whether that student is special ed or has any kind of accommodations.
2) The testing coordinator sends an email to everyone and forgets to attach the giant spreadsheet.
3) The testing coordinator gets about 45 emails letting her know she forgot the attachment.
4) The testing coordinator corrects her greivous error.
5) The testing coordinator gets about 53 emails letting her know what was wrong with her spreadsheet.
6) And so on.
7) Every day of the week before testing, the teachers remind the students to check the giant spreadsheet sans ID numbers and special ed info (posted in at least 8 places around the building) to ensure they go to the right room on test day.
8) The students show up on test day, vaguely aware that there is something important going on.
9) The students show up to their normal first period, and are turned away by the proctor, a stranger, who tells them to go look at one of the aforementioned 8 occurances of giant spreadsheets which have mysteriously appeared in the last week, and which the children claim never to have heard of before.
10) Testing commences.
11) Active Monitoring (AM) commences. Now, you may be asking "Shouldn't you say, "Active monitoring (Am)"? To you doubters of my abilities in understanding the rules of capitalization, I say, "Clearly you have never proctored a test." AM involves the following:
a) Forcing the students to stand outside your door as you check each one of them in.
b) Taking each student's lunch order.
c) Forcing them to part with anything they brought and put it at the front of the room.
d) Taking away and labeling their cell phones or other electronic devices.
e) Filling out a provided seating chart that does not match the dimensions of the room.
f) Taking attendance 3 times (not a hyperbole).
g) Reading the test directions and helping people understand how to write their names.
h) Admitting late students, who also require all of the above procedures.
i) Walking around the room for a period of four to five hours. You may not sit.
j) Escorting students to the bathroom like they are five years old.
k) Recording who and what time they went to the bathroom.
l) Blah blah blah.
m) Collecting all test materials and delivering them back to the office.
n) Delivering any students who are (impossibly) not finished with the test to another place.
Letters "a" through "h" must be done to 25 students in approximately 10 minutes.
12) Class (usually lunch and third period) commences. The children are drained and prone to misbehavior.
13) A movie is started in every classroom on campus, and the children form theories about why they have to come to school a full day if all we do is watch a movie after TAKS. The teachers also wonder this, and may or may not express their wonderment.
I guess that's it.
Don't you want to be a teacher?
Valete.
Magistra
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Anime Idol Again.
Salvete.
It's that time of year again. Time. For. Anime. Idol.
If you missed last year's Anime Idol, here is the link to the blog post:
http://magistrasapiens.blogspot.com/2010/03/forget-american-idol.html
We have our Randy, our Paula, and our Simon, who are played by the same three girls as last year.
We have our Ryan Seacrest, played by the same student as last year, wielding his Coke-bottle microphone.
And we have our various acts.
What you've all been waiting for:
1) Youtube Rap (inappropriate content)
2) Medly of Rick Astley and Pokemon
3) Pokemon Theme Song (the child started out singing really horribly, then another child dragged it off the stage, and into the hall...a fake-mustacio'd child, looking remarkably like the dragged child, appeared to finish the song in a dramatic Spanish accent)
4) Awake and Alive by Skillet (Dramatic)
5) Card Captor Somethinginjapanese Theme Song
6) If You Were Gay (?)
7) Soldier Side by System of a Down (Dramatic)
8) Last-Minute-Give-Me-A-Request-I-Want-The-Prize Song (Which turned into "What Hurts Most" as done by Cascada)
9) L-O-V-E by Nat Cole King [sic]
10) Something I can't identify...it might have been rap?
11) Dirty Pop by N'Sync
AND THE WINNER IS.
#8.
Lesson: Preparation is no good. If you just throw something together at the last minute because the prize is cool, you're sure to get what you want.
And so you see. This has everything to do with Anime. Or something.
At least he kids have fun, which I guess is really all that matters.
Valete.
Magistra
It's that time of year again. Time. For. Anime. Idol.
If you missed last year's Anime Idol, here is the link to the blog post:
http://magistrasapiens.blogspot.com/2010/03/forget-american-idol.html
We have our Randy, our Paula, and our Simon, who are played by the same three girls as last year.
We have our Ryan Seacrest, played by the same student as last year, wielding his Coke-bottle microphone.
And we have our various acts.
What you've all been waiting for:
1) Youtube Rap (inappropriate content)
2) Medly of Rick Astley and Pokemon
3) Pokemon Theme Song (the child started out singing really horribly, then another child dragged it off the stage, and into the hall...a fake-mustacio'd child, looking remarkably like the dragged child, appeared to finish the song in a dramatic Spanish accent)
4) Awake and Alive by Skillet (Dramatic)
5) Card Captor Somethinginjapanese Theme Song
6) If You Were Gay (?)
7) Soldier Side by System of a Down (Dramatic)
8) Last-Minute-Give-Me-A-Request-I-Want-The-Prize Song (Which turned into "What Hurts Most" as done by Cascada)
9) L-O-V-E by Nat Cole King [sic]
10) Something I can't identify...it might have been rap?
11) Dirty Pop by N'Sync
AND THE WINNER IS.
#8.
Lesson: Preparation is no good. If you just throw something together at the last minute because the prize is cool, you're sure to get what you want.
And so you see. This has everything to do with Anime. Or something.
At least he kids have fun, which I guess is really all that matters.
Valete.
Magistra
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
When Will I See You Again?
Salvete,
I'm back.
It has been quite a while, with several misadventures. Students have left the special program of which I am a part, and I am sure several more will be gone after the semester. However, others are chosing to stay. They want help getting to college, and have embraced the teachings of the instructors who care for them. It has been exciting to watch them grow, and heartbreaking when their home lives challenge them and they suffer. We had several incidents occur over the last few weeks, and although they will pass, the students are still hurting now (and we know that now is what is most important to them, the only moment in time that they know or acknowledge).
Additionally, today is the first Anime Club meeting in three weeks! The students have playfully given me a hard time for being absent, though they take care of themselves when I am not around by going to park and playing Red Rover, etc. I will not lie, the break from their emotions and craziness has been nice, but I found myself missing it nonetheless. The ennui was dispelled almost immediately, though, upon the reconvening of the masses. At least they are watching a movie today (Origins), so they are subdued. Hopefully the movie is long enough to carry over into the next meeting.
Anime Club will not be meeting next week, but what joy I feel at that prospect is immediately laid aside due to an overwelming dread for where I am going to be in order to miss the meeting. Once a month over the last three months (December included), I have been subjected to what is called SIOP Training. These trainings are the pinacle of why I hate educational theory. The leader talks to us like we are five and she is seven, I am surrounded by goody-goody elementary teachers, and I am forced to film myself teaching for a project. My intense dislike is exacerbated by my least favorite co-worker being there. I had to sit next to the person at the last meeting, and the person was tolerable, though certainly not lovable. We are grouped for next week for the showing of the videos, and hopefully will not have to be in a room together again after that. Ever.
SIOP Training was the proverbial straw, and I the camel. I had been contemplating for some time going back to school to get my PhD in English. I thought I could stand being a teacher forever, but that is just not the case. I thought after my first year that the useless seminars would get better. Then, I switched districts, and I told myself that all the useless seminars had to do with me being new to the district. Now, it is my second year here, my third year teaching, and still I suffer. I feel like making tallies on the wall, a la prison. My co-teacher is 35 years old, has been teaching for more than ten years, and he is undergoing the same SIOP training as I am. I was in the copy room the other day, and a teacher randomly asked me, "Do you think you could do this for thirty years? This is my thirtieth year." I slowly backed away in horror at the prospect of myself as a rotund, 55-year old teacher who had become disenchanted years before but could not escape because of retirement considerations. That same week, the very same week that I had decided difinitively to start applying, another teacher told me, "Get out of here and get your PhD while you can." Perhaps these incidences were co-incidences only, but they were duly noted and filed away. I have now applied to Duke, UNC, A&M, SMU, UNT, and Tech.
My actions are not to say that I dislike teaching itself. I rather enjoy having a captive audience. I love the kids, but there will always be kids. If I get a PhD, I can teach at a deeper level, and deal with college-age students. I can be a student again while earning the degree, which is what I love doing best of anything. I was meant to be an academic. Yes, I know there will be meetings and trainings when I am a professor. That is not the point. The point is academia. The point is freedom. The point is doing what I need to do. Husband has been infinitely supportive, as have my recommenders. I am so looking forward to Feburary/March/April when I find out who has rejected me. Or, even better, who has accepted me. I hope they accept me.
That's all for now. Still 45 minutes left in Anime Club.
Save me.
Valete,
Magistra
I'm back.
It has been quite a while, with several misadventures. Students have left the special program of which I am a part, and I am sure several more will be gone after the semester. However, others are chosing to stay. They want help getting to college, and have embraced the teachings of the instructors who care for them. It has been exciting to watch them grow, and heartbreaking when their home lives challenge them and they suffer. We had several incidents occur over the last few weeks, and although they will pass, the students are still hurting now (and we know that now is what is most important to them, the only moment in time that they know or acknowledge).
Additionally, today is the first Anime Club meeting in three weeks! The students have playfully given me a hard time for being absent, though they take care of themselves when I am not around by going to park and playing Red Rover, etc. I will not lie, the break from their emotions and craziness has been nice, but I found myself missing it nonetheless. The ennui was dispelled almost immediately, though, upon the reconvening of the masses. At least they are watching a movie today (Origins), so they are subdued. Hopefully the movie is long enough to carry over into the next meeting.
Anime Club will not be meeting next week, but what joy I feel at that prospect is immediately laid aside due to an overwelming dread for where I am going to be in order to miss the meeting. Once a month over the last three months (December included), I have been subjected to what is called SIOP Training. These trainings are the pinacle of why I hate educational theory. The leader talks to us like we are five and she is seven, I am surrounded by goody-goody elementary teachers, and I am forced to film myself teaching for a project. My intense dislike is exacerbated by my least favorite co-worker being there. I had to sit next to the person at the last meeting, and the person was tolerable, though certainly not lovable. We are grouped for next week for the showing of the videos, and hopefully will not have to be in a room together again after that. Ever.
SIOP Training was the proverbial straw, and I the camel. I had been contemplating for some time going back to school to get my PhD in English. I thought I could stand being a teacher forever, but that is just not the case. I thought after my first year that the useless seminars would get better. Then, I switched districts, and I told myself that all the useless seminars had to do with me being new to the district. Now, it is my second year here, my third year teaching, and still I suffer. I feel like making tallies on the wall, a la prison. My co-teacher is 35 years old, has been teaching for more than ten years, and he is undergoing the same SIOP training as I am. I was in the copy room the other day, and a teacher randomly asked me, "Do you think you could do this for thirty years? This is my thirtieth year." I slowly backed away in horror at the prospect of myself as a rotund, 55-year old teacher who had become disenchanted years before but could not escape because of retirement considerations. That same week, the very same week that I had decided difinitively to start applying, another teacher told me, "Get out of here and get your PhD while you can." Perhaps these incidences were co-incidences only, but they were duly noted and filed away. I have now applied to Duke, UNC, A&M, SMU, UNT, and Tech.
My actions are not to say that I dislike teaching itself. I rather enjoy having a captive audience. I love the kids, but there will always be kids. If I get a PhD, I can teach at a deeper level, and deal with college-age students. I can be a student again while earning the degree, which is what I love doing best of anything. I was meant to be an academic. Yes, I know there will be meetings and trainings when I am a professor. That is not the point. The point is academia. The point is freedom. The point is doing what I need to do. Husband has been infinitely supportive, as have my recommenders. I am so looking forward to Feburary/March/April when I find out who has rejected me. Or, even better, who has accepted me. I hope they accept me.
That's all for now. Still 45 minutes left in Anime Club.
Save me.
Valete,
Magistra
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
My balogna has a first name...
Salvete!
The eternal question: is doing your hair more important than homework? Of course it is!
A student walked into my class today with his hair freshly braided. I asked him how much time he had spent doing his hair, since I knew how little time he spent doing his homework. He became immediatley defensive, saying that he couldn't come to school looking like a fool with his hair like that guy's (as he pointed to a responsible boy in the class, including the necessary "no offense"). I told him he looked like an even bigger fool if he didn't have his homework done.
The argument went on for a little bit, and the guy with the bad hair (an amazing afro that I think is pretty cool) stepped in to try to explain some things about responsibility. Eventually, they came back to me, and I told the irresponsible student that I thought he was full of balogna. He took offense, of course, which encouraged me to insult him further. He just makes it too easy.
I have now spent the rest of class pretending that all I could hear come out of his mouth was the phrase, "I'm full of balogna," every time he asks me a question.
Valete,
Magistra
The eternal question: is doing your hair more important than homework? Of course it is!
A student walked into my class today with his hair freshly braided. I asked him how much time he had spent doing his hair, since I knew how little time he spent doing his homework. He became immediatley defensive, saying that he couldn't come to school looking like a fool with his hair like that guy's (as he pointed to a responsible boy in the class, including the necessary "no offense"). I told him he looked like an even bigger fool if he didn't have his homework done.
The argument went on for a little bit, and the guy with the bad hair (an amazing afro that I think is pretty cool) stepped in to try to explain some things about responsibility. Eventually, they came back to me, and I told the irresponsible student that I thought he was full of balogna. He took offense, of course, which encouraged me to insult him further. He just makes it too easy.
I have now spent the rest of class pretending that all I could hear come out of his mouth was the phrase, "I'm full of balogna," every time he asks me a question.
Valete,
Magistra
Saturday, September 25, 2010
If you try sometimes, yeah you just might find...
...I got what I need!
A specific child is no longer in my class. This child, who (of course) shall remain nameless, was a hol[ier than thou] terror for six weeks. I wasn't aware that a fifteen-year-old could know everything, including what was best for itself*, but apparently this child does. The child also is fully trained in educational best practices (to a degree far beyond both of mine), and is fit to decide what it will need after the age of 18, a place it has not been but seems to know all about.
And I ask you, why should we read books in English class? Preposterous. Yet, the child seems to have decided that this must be so. I ask you too, why should we take notes in a style confirmed as a best practice by law schools and 30+ years of research? Ridiculous! Let the reform begin!
On a less sarcastic, caustic, and demeaning note, this week may have been a rough one, but it was nothing compared to what it could have been, had this child still been in my class.
That is not to say that I did not love the child. Of course I did. In a way. A small, very difficult-to-see,-detect,-or define way. Am I embittered? Certainly not. Am I relieved? Of course. I could have survived all year with it in my class. I originally typed, "very well could have," but then decided that that was a falsehood. There would have been nothing going on that anyone would have described as "very well."
*I refer to the child as "it" in order to refrain from revealing the gender, not to suggest something about the gender (or the usual lack thereof that comes with the pronoun "it").
Anyway, we took the kids on a field trip this week. They had a wonderful time, and I rode on a school bus, surrounded by germs. The germs germinated, and became a cold or some other contagious plague. At least it was not the flu. *Knock on wood.* I am over it now, since I received the infection on Tuesday. Hopefully this means that my immune system is appropriately fortified against any new strains of whatever, and I won't get sick the rest of the year.
Speaking of sick, I watched "Shutter Island" today. It was recommended by a friend, and was very good. I will now recommend it to you, my non-existent audience.
Valete,
Magistra
A specific child is no longer in my class. This child, who (of course) shall remain nameless, was a hol[ier than thou] terror for six weeks. I wasn't aware that a fifteen-year-old could know everything, including what was best for itself*, but apparently this child does. The child also is fully trained in educational best practices (to a degree far beyond both of mine), and is fit to decide what it will need after the age of 18, a place it has not been but seems to know all about.
And I ask you, why should we read books in English class? Preposterous. Yet, the child seems to have decided that this must be so. I ask you too, why should we take notes in a style confirmed as a best practice by law schools and 30+ years of research? Ridiculous! Let the reform begin!
On a less sarcastic, caustic, and demeaning note, this week may have been a rough one, but it was nothing compared to what it could have been, had this child still been in my class.
That is not to say that I did not love the child. Of course I did. In a way. A small, very difficult-to-see,-detect,-or define way. Am I embittered? Certainly not. Am I relieved? Of course. I could have survived all year with it in my class. I originally typed, "very well could have," but then decided that that was a falsehood. There would have been nothing going on that anyone would have described as "very well."
*I refer to the child as "it" in order to refrain from revealing the gender, not to suggest something about the gender (or the usual lack thereof that comes with the pronoun "it").
Anyway, we took the kids on a field trip this week. They had a wonderful time, and I rode on a school bus, surrounded by germs. The germs germinated, and became a cold or some other contagious plague. At least it was not the flu. *Knock on wood.* I am over it now, since I received the infection on Tuesday. Hopefully this means that my immune system is appropriately fortified against any new strains of whatever, and I won't get sick the rest of the year.
Speaking of sick, I watched "Shutter Island" today. It was recommended by a friend, and was very good. I will now recommend it to you, my non-existent audience.
Valete,
Magistra
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Anime Club Commences Again
Hey there.
Er, Salvete.
I've resigned myself to the fact that I will never be teaching Latin again. I'm too specialized now in my department. I've been trained to teach upper-level classes, as well as trained to pilot a program for kids in the academic middle. I get to use Latin many days, but so much of it has slipped away. I still love it, but I am ready to accept that I am done using my Latin certification for which I worked so hard.
Now, on to less dismal thoughts!
Anime Club has indeed begun again. Expect posts on Wednesdays. Unbelieveably, everything is graded and I can pen a post. There are approximately 40 students in my class right now, half watching "Princess Mononoke," and half doing various other things. There is one student in a gas mask (speaking in a terrible Russian accent), four playing Yugio, and all is well. Just another day at Anime Club.
They have about eight minutes until I kick them out. If you are unfamiliar with the blog, last year I had about 10-15 students weekly. 40 students is a lot, especially considering I only have 15 desks, and am aiming to take that number down to 12. Many bodies are on the floor, which is disgusting, because I am fairly certain that the floor gets cleaned only in the summer. Yay, public school!
But really, my custodian is very nice, and most days we have an awkward conversation in Spanish, often consisting of him laughing at me and calling my teaching partner a gringo. My teaching partner does not speak Spanish at all, and I speak enough to exchange pleasantries. I guess that saves me from gringo status. Not that there's anything wrong with being a gringo, or gringa, for that matter.
It's sushi night, and I am thankful.
Valete (bye),
Magistra (female teacher)
Er, Salvete.
I've resigned myself to the fact that I will never be teaching Latin again. I'm too specialized now in my department. I've been trained to teach upper-level classes, as well as trained to pilot a program for kids in the academic middle. I get to use Latin many days, but so much of it has slipped away. I still love it, but I am ready to accept that I am done using my Latin certification for which I worked so hard.
Now, on to less dismal thoughts!
Anime Club has indeed begun again. Expect posts on Wednesdays. Unbelieveably, everything is graded and I can pen a post. There are approximately 40 students in my class right now, half watching "Princess Mononoke," and half doing various other things. There is one student in a gas mask (speaking in a terrible Russian accent), four playing Yugio, and all is well. Just another day at Anime Club.
They have about eight minutes until I kick them out. If you are unfamiliar with the blog, last year I had about 10-15 students weekly. 40 students is a lot, especially considering I only have 15 desks, and am aiming to take that number down to 12. Many bodies are on the floor, which is disgusting, because I am fairly certain that the floor gets cleaned only in the summer. Yay, public school!
But really, my custodian is very nice, and most days we have an awkward conversation in Spanish, often consisting of him laughing at me and calling my teaching partner a gringo. My teaching partner does not speak Spanish at all, and I speak enough to exchange pleasantries. I guess that saves me from gringo status. Not that there's anything wrong with being a gringo, or gringa, for that matter.
It's sushi night, and I am thankful.
Valete (bye),
Magistra (female teacher)
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