Kids picking up rubbish before school.
You might actually consider this the first week of school, since it’s the first week that classes were taught. Last week was just cleaning and organizing. I was scheduled to observe the Year 7 (think 7th grade) class for the week. Here’s what actually happened:
End of school on Monday I was told I’d be teaching English to Year 7 the next day, since the teacher would be out on a personal day. Oh, and correct these 40 workbooks by tomorrow morning – math and English.
On the way to school the next morning, I was told that I’d be teaching all subjects for Year 7 that day. I was feeling unprepared, but did enjoy the irony that I was being asked to teach Samoan.
Thanks to the very patient kids and the goodies that friends have sent, the day went well. I only taught English and math, breaking the day up with that old standby, Simon Says and some English songs, along with the ever popular Hokey Pokey.
On Monday, I was helping individual students with their math. One group, mainly of the most challenged students, was just sitting. I asked them why and one girl shrugged and said “Laei penital”. (No pencils.) They are not allowed to use pens to do math, so simply weren’t doing the assignment. On Tuesday, I had the class divide into teams to do math relay races on the board. I set up one challenge to be sure that every team would “win”. The prize was a pencil for each member of the team. The pencils came from generous friends in the U.S.
I also pulled out stickers as prizes. You would have thought I’d pulled a sack of gold out of my bag. Competition was hot and heavy and there was much debate over which stickers to choose. The packet I’d brought had photos of dogs and cats/kittens and puppies. The dogs/puppies were overwhelming favorites. Clearly, Samoans are dog people. I’m very grateful to everyone who has sent stickers and will be using them sparingly to ensure that they remain a special treat.
On Wednesday, the principal, who also teaches Year 8 was late, so I stepped in. I taught English, in a completely unprepared, ad hoc kind of way. Then I was told it was time for social science on the radio. The school system has a series of educational broadcasts every day on different topics for different grades. Today was the history of Samoa, for Year 8. It was broadcast in English. I believe the programs are developed in New Zealand.
I was told to take notes so that I could then translate the lesson and teach it in Samoan. Perhaps they didn’t notice I don’t speak fluent Samoan? I listened to the lesson, as did the kids. The English was at a level that it would have challenged 8th graders in the States. Plus, the volume of the radio wasn’t loud enough to be heard clearly over the pounding rain. Nonetheless, the kids sat relatively patiently through the 30 minute program.
I then spent an hour “translating” the lesson for them. I used some Samoan. I used drawings. I used my finest acting skills. My favorite part was when I played the role of Tonga and had a boy play Samoa. We then “fought” the battle in which Samoa drove the Tongans out after years of rule. There was much laughter. I hope there was some learning.
I introduced three rules to the classes before we got started. Rule 1: no hitting. I don’t hit you and you don’t hit each other. Rule 2: When I clap my hands three times, silence. Rule 3: Aua le tautelaititi. Don’t be cheeky. By the end of the week, all I had to do was give “the look” at a kid and hold up the appropriate number of fingers. The child in question would say which rule they’d broken and knock it off. I realize it’s the honeymoon period, but so far the rules are working.
I also spent some time on the playground with the kids, much to the amusement of the other teachers. There are no playground monitors here and in the three schools I’ve visited, I’ve never seen a teacher play a game with the kids. I’m trying to balance my time during interval (30 minute recess in the middle of the day) to spend time with the teachers, so I can be part of the gang, while also spending time with the kids. The kids really seem to enjoy it and so far, it’s the best part of my day.
I really love the kids. Yes, there are cultural differences. Mostly, they’re kids. They love to see a grown up play the fool. They love to sing and dance. They’re excited to learn and they adore getting personal attention. I love it when one of the little kids comes up and slides her hand into mine, as if she doesn’t think I’ll notice. I even love it when the older kids act a little cocky when they say hello to me outside the classroom. They’re showing off their English, using a variety of phrases. If a PCV wasn’t here, they wouldn’t be speaking English outside their lessons.
BTW, every time I think of greetings, I think of Joey on Friends and how he’d say “How you doing?”, with a kind of leer. I suppose I shouldn’t teach them that, although it’s a temptation.
The week was not without challenges. Corporal punishment has been used for years in Samoa. The corporal punishment I’ve witnessed includes slapping, punching, hitting with a stick and kicking. Although it has been outlawed, it is still widely used. I believe it will take a long time to change a culture in which hitting is viewed as the most effective means of discipline.
During training, we were advised not to intervene if we witnessed a child being hit. If a beating was severe and we were worried about the well-being of the child, we were told to never step in. Instead, get a Samoan to handle the situation. The reasoning is that the person doing the beating could turn his/her anger on us and put us at risk for physical harm. The second concern is that by butting in to something that is perceived as none of our business it would make it hard for us to continue teaching with that person.
I had my first challenge with it this week. A teacher punched a child. The child is fine, but I’m still troubled. I’m hoping that by demonstrating classroom management techniques that don’t involve violence, teachers will see there’s an alternative.
I’m not a Pollyanna when it comes to classroom management. I know that Samoan kids can be “cheeky” and “naughty” as it’s called here. But, I used to teach in a residential treatment center for teenage girls. We were a special facility for pregnant teens and took in a variety of kids, including some from teen prisons. If I can discipline kids convicted of murder without hitting, I think I can handle the kids here.
A much smaller challenge was just figuring out what was going on and where I was supposed to be, when. Friday morning I got up at my usual time. I was outside drying my hair and my host sister walked up and stared at me. I stopped and asked what was up. “You’re late.” No, actually, it’s 30 minutes before the time you said we were leaving. It seems we had to make a stop at the hospital to drop off some fine mats to cover the body of a woman who’d died the day before. I’m not sure how I was expected to know that. Perhaps the same way I was supposed to translate the history lesson from English to Samoan.
My family selling ramen, chips and vi (in the bucket) before school
My "sister" is sitting in my outdoor kitchen. I introduced her to the closest version of chicken enchiladas I could. She loved it and wants to make them for the church.
School was over and I was waiting for a ride by the road. Cute or what?
The Year 1 room. Mats provided by parents. Those are the desks. They sit on the floor. Me, too.
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