Teachers learn as well

I can’t believe I’m writing this blog after having been in Ethiopia for almost a year, and having completed my first year of teaching in my own classroom. There were many times throughout these past 12 months where I doubted I would reach this point. As the saying goes we are our own worst critics, and that has become more apparent to me here than ever before. PST was a challenge in adapting to a new country, culture, and environment. However, nothing could quite prepare me for what was to come.

The Peace Corps Education staff is absolutely incredible and helped us in any way they could, but my group G11 was the first in a new program model called PELLE, and as such we were the guinea pigs (and still are). We were being trained how to teach “Ethiopian style”, but even with extensive grammar lessons, sessions on large classroom management, and practice in classrooms with Ethiopian students, there is really no better classroom than the “real world”, which is what my fellow volunteers and I experienced as soon as we entered our school compounds the first week at site.

I have a background in education, and even though it is with younger children, I foolishly came in confidently, thinking that my education would help me in teaching. However, I quickly realized that pretty much every technique, every lesson, and every theory I learned in college and student teaching was not going to help me in this new foreign environment. Not only was I learning a new language and new culture outside of the school, but I was having to learn new ways to adapt to a different and tough teaching situation. Although I have come to realize that some of my background has been helpful, I still think I’m learning more about teaching and myself here than I ever did back home.

When I student taught I had a sometimes extremely difficult class. I was in a first grade class, and although I loved my students, we had some really low students and ones with behavior difficulties. I would go home and cry or text my mom that I needed a glass of wine. I thought all classes were that low academically having nothing to compare it to. I had an absolutely fabulous master teacher who taught me an incredible amount about planning, adaptation, control, and patience. We developed a team system with dealing with our more difficult kids and subjects. I came to care deeply for my students, and even the hardest ones stole a piece of my heart. I cried when I had to leave them at the end of the year. Although they would make me cry and want to pull my hair out, I never once questioned whether teaching was for me—because I would always get up in the morning excited to see those smiles, no matter what the day was like the day before. I never understood growing up how all my old teachers were able to remember me when I would come back to visit, even after years. I now understand it—your students become “your kids” and a part of you, no matter how hard they can be to handle and deal with.

My students during my student teaching year, and all my students I interacted with during the camps and after care programs I worked at throughout my years have all left impressions on me. I realized about 2 days in to my year that I was going to learn more from them than they would learn from me, and I was right. Although most lessons ended up about patience, unconditional love, and persistence, I also learned about caring for others, taking joy in everything, and finding lessons in unexpected places. I came to appreciate every small thing I gained from my first graders, those who were innocent and sometimes naïve in many aspects, and yet more of an expert than me in other parts.

But this blog is not about my precious (going to be 3^rd graders, WHAT?!) from Albuquerque, New Mexico. This is about the many lessons I learned from my larger, older, and louder, yet still “my kids” Ethiopian 9^th graders. I walked into my first of 3 sections that first day absolutely terrified. I was warned about class sizes, discipline problems, and academic ability. That first week was a fluke, as each day a few more students trickled in. I have not had a single day where all my students have showed up, and it took about 2 weeks to gain even a majority of my class. However, the behaviors I was told about quickly came to light, even with 20 students. I was close to calling my mom and dad after my first quiz where every student cheated off about 2 or 3 in the front row. I was in tears after checking the midterm to find only a few of my students out of the 210 I have on my roster actually passed without my extra credit I had promised.

I have days here where all I want to do is grab my bag, walk out of class, and not stop walking until I reach the 505. I have days where I have called my best friends in country in tears because I just can’t do it anymore. I have days where I start saying smart-ass things under my breath in class to keep myself calm.

But, I also have days where I walk into class feeling down and my students can sense that because at the end I have 3 girls or boys coming up to me with drawings of flowers, papers that say “Ms. Kelsey is gobez, or Ms. Kelsey is a good teacher”. I have days where students come into the teachers lounger just to say hi to me and ask how I’m doing, and amaze the other teachers that my students don’t hide from fear of me. I have days where I get to text my friends something hilarious that a student wrote, because even though it makes no sense, they are trying and being creative- which is more than I thought possible at the beginning of the year.

I have learned lessons daily from my students, fellow teachers, and the system as a whole. I learned that first semester that the last 2 weeks of classes are not really classes. They are more teachers showing up to check exercise books, give quizzes, and give grades. They do not do this in their own periods though, they do it when it is convenient for them, which gives me (who is a rule follower and a scheduler) a lesson in patience. I learned to adapt my teaching to finish what teaching I need to finish and then do review with the 6 kids still sitting in my class. This is just 1 of many lessons I learned this first year in my classroom. In honor of having been in country for a year, here are the 12 most important lessons I learned in the Ethiopian school system this first year.

1.    Being liked and respected are not the same thing.

This might seem obvious, but it’s not. As humans we say we want to be respected, and we do. But most of the time, we will probably act in a way to be liked. In the US it was easy enough for me to be tough on my students. But here, it has been difficult. When I got to country, I saw how the other teachers disciplined and I made a promise to myself that I would never use corporal punishment and touch a student, no matter how upset I was. I have kept that promise, although to be honest- there have been some moments where I have had to restrain myself to not reach that point. That being said, I don’t think the corporal punishment makes my students respect the other teachers. So that’s not the solution. I have been told by my Director, Vice Directors, Department Head, and other teachers that my students like me. They have talked to them and all their feedback for my class has been good. They all enjoy my teaching style, and my silliness. I am the only teacher they acknowledge on the street. But, that doesn’t translate to respect. Even after a year of the same rules and routines, I still can’t get them to all be quiet. They don’t always listen to me. They still cheat on homework, quizzes, and group work. They might smile at me and say hi outside of class, but I have a hard time believing them respect me as a teacher in the classroom.

2.   Patience is a virtue that has to be practiced all the time.

I hate the saying “patience is a virtue”. When all I want to do is scream, that is repeated to me and I want to tear off the person’s head who tells me to breath. Yet, there is a reason it is cliché and said so much, because it’s true. What’s not mentioned- is that it has to be practiced all the time. It will never be perfected, but patience can be used more effectively. Much of the school system is disorganized, with start and end dates that are changed, meetings scheduled and canceled, and periods rearranged with no communication. Students cheat off each other, copy straight off the board and book, and talk through entire lessons but then get mad at you when they fail a quiz the next day. If I have learned nothing else here, it’s that patience is needed every minute of every day. Nothing will be gained in the long run from getting upset, although in the moment sometimes that’s what keeps your sanity. Students have truly shown me the meaning of why patience is needed and has to be practiced, for those moments when it’s the only thing that keeps me going the next day. But sometimes that next day is the most rewarding day. Patience got me to that small victory.

3.   Creativity does have a place in the classroom, no matter where.

Remember, I student taught in a first grade classroom and worked as an aftercare worker and camp counselor for many years. My speciality is creativity, color, and fiction. However, this school system is not built for that. All classes are run the same, with the teacher standing at the front of the class, reading and writing notes on the board straight from the text book. The students copy the notes down word for word. The teachers don’t cross the invisible line at the front of the room, and the students don’t either. It’s a give and take relationship with no room to wiggle. Here I am, though. The crazy firenji with her crayons, colored pencils, colored paper, and posters. It’s been extremely difficult to get my students to go with my lessons, to step out of the rigid structure they are used to, and to think for themselves. I still have students who copy every word on the board in their assignments. Down to “My name is Kelsey. I have 2 brothers and 2 sisters…” I have students who ask me how many points something is worth and when I say it’s just for fun, they look at me like I have 4 heads. But I have found that even in the most boring grammar lessons or weird lessons from the text book, that there is room for at least a little creativity and free thinking, and it is appreciated, even if not understood by the students and my fellow teachers.

4.   Adaptation is not just a word used for lesson planning- it’s for every single second in the classroom.

We learned about textbook adaptation in practicum and PST. We learned how to write 4MAT lesson plans with great detail using lessons from the textbook, which we are expected to follow, while making them more free thinking and a little more American. That was useful for the first few days, when I could use the lessons already Peace Corps approved. But I began to see quickly, that how they trained us was not going to work in my own classrooms. Not only were there 70 students in a class, but most couldn’t even write their names in English, much less write even basic sentences. Some didn’t have exersice books or pens, no one brought their textbooks, and at times there weren’t enough desks for all my students. This meant even adapting the textbook as PC suggested was going to need more work. To top it off, the skills like speaking and listening that are the most difficult, the most important, and need to be practiced are almost impossible in classes that big and low. The skills to pass the system are reading, grammar, and a bit of writing. This poses a problem that we as volunteers have to figure out. This lesson learned is helped with fellow PCV’s, who are experiencing the same thing. Through texting, calling, and conferencing- this lesson becomes a little bit easier to deal with by stealing others ideas, lessons, and adapting them to fit your own students.

5.   The kids who are the most difficult are the ones who need the most care.

This is something noticed by every teacher, no matter where in the world you are. The hardest part about being a teacher is accepting this fact and then being willing to work to reach those kids. Although I know this fact to be true, they are still difficult to handle. With 70 students in a classroom all at different levels, the student in the back who is goofing off, not paying attention, or starting fights with fellow students is the least likely person you want to spend your precious time and energy focusing on. It’s easy enough to ignore them, kick them out, or try to discipline them. With a language and cultural barrier it’s even harder to reach that student. But honestly, if there is a way to reach that student, even if it’s putting them at the front desk or putting their name in a class example sentence, you are showing them that you do in fact care, no matter how hard they can be to handle. You might not change their behavior, in fact- you probably won’t. But trying and caring is the most important part of being a teacher, and showing it to your students will let them know you don’t just deal with them, you actually enjoy them.

6.   That gobez student is not going to be your favorite.

Well, that depends on the student and teacher, but this seems to be true of most volunteers I talk to. For those of you who don’t know, gobez means good. In the Ethiopian school system, the gobez students are the smart ones. The ones who play by the rules, do well on quizzes and tests, are the group leaders, and the ones who speak up in class. They are used to the being the ones who are adored and paid attention to by the teachers, because they answer in class. This doesn’t always translate to being well behaved or liked though. I have plenty of “gobez students” who don’t pay attention because they are bored and who get frustrated with me, because I call on more than them for answers in class. In fact, since getting my students to open up and participate more, I have found that many of my students are in fact “gobez”, they are just quieter, shyer, or don’t sit at the front of the class. Some of my students who I consider to have the most potential, who try the hardest, and those who make me smile aren’t always the students that pride themselves in being “the best”, they are just the ones who put forth the effort- no matter how small it may seem to everyone around them.

7.   To get your students to engage, you have to make a fool of yourself.

As with the creativity lesson, I am used to dancing around, laughing at myself, and being a little bit crazy. I think I am able to get away with this here, because they put it off as the crazy firenji teacher. To get my students to play hangman and Simon Says or get them to learn “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” and “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes”, I had to demonstrate first, with such enthusiasm and energy that I never even used with my first graders. I had to be willing to let go of all the worries I had about what they thought of me. I had to break the barrier between them and me using the reasoning that I’m their teacher, but I’m also there as a volunteer and my job is to make sure they learn, but enjoy learning not just sit there. By showing them that I was willing to be vulnerable, they let their guard down as well and showed them they were willing as well to meet me in the middle.

8.   Sometimes the only thing you can do is realize some things are beyond your control.

This is a life lesson, not just a classroom one. There are things in your control, such as how you react to people and circumstances, but there are times when the only thing you can do is throw up your hands and let things play out. Not to say you shouldn’t try to change things. For example, instead of just letting your students copy your notes because they are having a difficult time coming up with their own sentences, scaffold things slowly and be patient with each step. That’s easier said than done, and I have definitely been guilty of trying to either control everything or just give up, but it’s important to find that middle balance. Try to adapt, change, and help situations and people along, but at some point it’s important to let go and just let things happen—no matter how difficult either one is.

9.   Life throws you curveballs and you have to learn how to play with them anyways.

I’m not a baseball fan. I enjoy going to summer games, getting a hotdog, funnel cake, and beer and hanging out with friends, but that’s about where my smiles on that end. I mean, I don’t dislike the sport, but it wouldn’t be my first sport I would watch. That being said, the metaphor of life throwing curveballs is about as American as cherry pie. You can use that metaphor for most anything, but life seems to be the perfect fit. In baseball you learn when to swing and when to stay put (I think, again—I don’t know much about how to play it). As a teacher, you learn when to swing and when to stay put, when to run to the next base and when to stay on base. It’s important to know when each of those times are. You won’t always be right, and many times you will mess up and choose the wrong option. You will have days where you are down and your lesson goes awful, but you will also have days where a boring lesson turns interesting when your students give a funny sample sentence. Life throws curveballs that we won’t see or expect, and as a teacher it’s even more difficult to handle those when you are on stage with 70 15 year olds looking at you, but with quick thinking you have to run or stay on base, swing or stay still. It’s up to you, and how you handle those unexpected curveballs.

10. You can plan as much as you want, but in the end- flexibility is the only answer.

Peace Corps taught us during practicum about 4MAT lesson plans and the importance of very detailed plans. Each step needs to be written out in as much detail as possible (sometimes with exact words), objectives need certain numbers and standards to reach. In the US there is a place for that, especially with so much pressure on reaching certain standards. Here though, I don’t think I have taught a single lesson where I have actually used my entire lesson I planned. It is good to have a map of where you want to go, with specific examples for things like grammar. However, I learned about the third day in, that you are going to have to throw away most of your lesson depending on your students. I have been able to plan more as I have learned about my students, but I still go in and change my lessons on the fly. From realizing my students aren’t understanding a concept, to seeing they are bored with what I’m doing. From changing my lecture style format to a race game, from changing an individual writing activity to a class discussion, all from minute to minute is a lesson I have learned every single day. It’s important to plan and know your material, but your lesson is going to be a fail if you stick to the lesson you wrote without reading your students and adapting to their needs.

11.  There are clear right answers on tests, but not in life.

On Ethiopian written tests there might in fact be more than one correct answer, however generally there should only be one correct answer. The answer to whether the sentence “Ms. Kelsey was born in America” is true or false (it’s true) is a clear-cut response. There are 2 choices and 1 right answer. That’s the beauty of multiple-choice questions. Although it leaves no room for creativity or much actual thought, at least it gives the answerer something they can count on. In life and in teaching though, the answers aren’t so simple. As with the life and throwing curveballs, the same thing applies to questions and answers. As with teaching, there are no clear-cut questions either. It’s not as if each problem you face has 1 question with 3 possible answers, you pick one, and if you pick the correct solution then you get to move onto the next step in life. I wish it was that easy. Instead, as a teacher you run into a variety of problems, experiences, and situations like students on phones in class, students cheating, teachers taking your class time for their quizzes, or students asking awkward health questions. As a teacher, you have to be willing to try and face each problem with your own answer, knowing full well there is no right or wrong one (although some may produce better outcomes than others).

12. Take the small victories, they become the large ones.

I didn’t become a teacher to change all my students. I didn’t join Peace Corps to change the world. Although sometimes I forget that, and want to do both. I can get upset with myself when I only have 3 kids participate in class or when I notice all my students copied off the same 6 kids. I tend to blame myself when things don’t go perfectly. But then I am reminded by my friends here, my family back home, and my old teachers- that it’s really the small victories. Yes, I won’t improve every student’s scores (in fact, some went down). Yes, I won’t get every student to speak out in class. Yes, most of my classes will still talk through my lessons. But the day when a student who never speaks a word answers a question correctly, when a student who never participates writes or draws a beautiful thing for me, or when a student spells her name in sign language after 1 class, those are the small victories. On the most difficult days, it’s remembering the mall victories that help me get over the larger humps.

During PST we were warned that we would get frustrated at site. As humans we like instant gratification, no matter how much we might say we don’t. We like to see the evidence of our work, especially when we care so much. As teachers and volunteers it can be hard because our work and effort is so often thankless and many times it will take years to actually see the outcome of our work. We heard stories of students tracking down volunteers after 10 years to tell them they ended up going to college and becoming engineers with 2 kids and a happy marriage. I mean, that’s a happy ending story that won’t apply to a majority of us and our students, but I hope that each one of us will have at least that much impact on even one student or person in our community.

I have learned many things from this experience, journey, or adventure- (whatever label you want to put on it). From this new culture, country and people, to my fellow volunteers, to the school system, to my students I have learned different lessons that can really be applied in most of my life here and at home. I have now been in country for almost year, I have finished my first year of teaching in my own classroom, and I am about to embark on a lovely vacation home before coming home to complete my 27 months of service. I have experienced so much, more than words and pictures can ever express. The world truly is the largest classroom, and lessons are learned every day, in the most unexpected places and in the most unexpected ways. You just have to open up yourself and be willing to learn those lessons, both easy and difficult, for your life to really be developed and shaped by everything around you. You might be surprised in what you discover about yourself, faith, the world around you, and humanity in general.