Thus ends the second week of my internship with Exodus Refugee Immigration! Although it's been a short week due to Memorial Day, the work has been constant and there is never a dull moment.
I've realized over this past week that given the right circumstances, I'm actually pretty fond of teaching English. I remember when in the Dominican Republic in a room of over 20 children and preteens, I thought that teaching English to non-native speakers was something that I really didn't see myself doing. Not that I didn't have a good experience, because I developed quite a relationship with those youngsters and I miss them a lot since being home in the states. But my teaching work with Exodus is very different, and in a very nice way. I teach English to only adults, so that in itself always gives me a sigh of relief. First of all, these students are coming to class because they want to and because they want to learn the language. I mean, you can't even say that of all college students because some take classes "because they have to" or are even in school "because their parents make them." Not the case this summer, though. These are dedicated learners who work hard and study in order to better live their lives, not because anyone is making them go.
Also, I think I just relate better to adults than to children. Sure, I like kids as much as the next person, but I (like my mom) have a very low tolerance for whining. Yes, there are a lot of adults who whine, but it seems to be more common around children and younger people who don't yet understand the value of education. Once I learned that lesson, I became a lot less whiny about going to class, doing homework, etc. My students at Exodus are certainly not whiners. They see class as an opportunity, not a task or a chore. They come to class eager to learn, eager to pronounce correctly, and eager to understand and make those bilingual connections. And this, my friends, is what makes me love teaching these classes. My students have been through a lot, and they are so deserving of this opportunity to learn the language of their new country. And I'm proud to be able to say that I am helping them adapt and guiding them on their way to self-sufficiency.
However, that's not to say that you don't have to be flexible while doing this job, because you most certainly do! Most days, I don't get through all the material that I want to because I constantly have to stop in the middle of the lesson to explain a new word of vocabulary or a grammar lesson so that all of the students can understand and we can move forward. Every once in a while I'll be at the table with them and will say a word or a concept and be facing a table full of blank stares." Of course," I think to myself, "they don't know what that word means." Time to get up from the table, go to the white board, and make sense of things that I've never even thought about. For example, the other day I was teaching a lesson to a pretty beginner group of students. We were talking about family, and the members of the family. The lesson plan said to use the word "memory." Even though I probably should have skipped over this concept entirely, I wrote the word "memory" on the board. Students: blank stares. Anna: all right, how do I explain this? "Um...well, a memory is something that happened in the past that you remember!" (really should have had a dictionary for that one.) Students: blank stares. Anna: what do I do, what do I do? "OK, here I'm drawing a PICTURE of my FAMILY." Students: less blank stares. Anna: "What is family?" One student: "Mother, brother, sister..." Anna: "Very good!" I had to think of a family memory, and fast! My family probably has lots of memories, but I wanted something that clearly was in the past. Well, how about when my little brother was born? So I drew a picture of me, my mom, my dad, and two older brothers and a little baby that signified my little brother, John, when he was born. And yes, he was the cutest thing.
Now, just so I don't end up taking up two pages about the half hour I used trying to explain "memory," basically I used a lot of hand gestures, made a chart about past present and future, had to explain that now in the present my brother is fourteen years old, what it means to be born, the year I was born, that 2013 is the present, yesterday is the past, therefore yesterday is a "memory." I kept digging myself into a deeper and deeper hole, but eventually I think most students came out of it understanding the concept of past, present and future. Good enough for me. This is just an example of how flexible you have to be when teaching very basic level ESL students :) Quite the experience, and like I said, NEVER a dull moment.
Now, as you can only imagine, I don't speak in my normal fast native English way with the students, or even in my normal tone of voice. Lots of hand gestures, lots of repetition, lots of slowww speeech. So when I get out of teaching a three-hour class, I am still in that mode of speech, which can be pretty funny. The other day I came out of class and was talking to a fellow intern, without realizing that I was now out of English class and was talking to a native speaker. After about five minutes, she said, "Anna, I'm actually not five years old. You can talk normal now." In this way, readjusting can be pretty comical. At least for the people around me.
Sometimes I make such connections with my students and am able to see eye to eye with them that I forget why they're here. I guess I'm so used to working with people from different countries that I kind of start to see everyone in the same way. But when I am reminded of the fact that they are refugees who were, at one point, facing such atrocities in their home country, I can't help but feel very fortunate for myself and very grateful that they are able to come here. For example, one of the students got lost on the bus the other day. When I heard about that, I felt immediately empathetic. I remember when I was seventeen living in Chile, taking the bus late at night to my friend's house in Santiage in an area I didn't know well. I got on the bus very late and was one of only three people. And I couldn't remember which stop was the right one, because everything looked the same to me. Eventually, all the other people got off and I was all alone, and we had probably already gone through the route about twice and the busdriver told me this was the last time going around for the night, and he would have to drop me off somewhere in the next 20 minutes. I hadn't been so scared in my whole life. So when I heard he was lost, I felt so scared for him because I knew what that was like. But then one coworker mentioned, "Well, he's been in guerilla warfare before, I'm pretty sure he'll survive this until we find him." I didn't know what that was like. Sometimes we forget how fortunate we are never to have had to face such things and never to have had to fight in order to survive, and then be shipped to a new place where we don't have money, food, or know the language. But then I remember, this is why Exodus is here. This is the work that we do. And I couldn't be more happy to be doing it.
That's all I got for this week, but please let me know what you think! Also, Exodus always welcomes donations, so if you have anything to donate (clothes, food, houseware, toys, etc) please let me know! Anything and everything is vital and needed. Thanks so much for reading and I'll post again next weekend!
Anna
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