Monday: Nope, nope, nope. I can't do this. I've had a week and half (and all of the summer vacation) to prepare, but how can you really be prepared? I'm not talking about worksheets, flashcards, etc.- I've got armfuls of those. I'm talking about preparing for being stood in front of a group of anywhere from 20-30 expectant teenagers waiting for you to kick things off.
Teaching is great. But at times like this, it's also bloody terrifying.
With a slightly tremulous grip, you seize the board marker. It's been about two months since you last held one, and between the rustiness and nerves there's a noticeable shake in your hand as you write "My name is ____".
With a slightly tremulous grip, you seize the board marker. It's been about two months since you last held one, and between the rustiness and nerves there's a noticeable shake in your hand as you write "My name is ____".
Sure enough, the first lessons fly by. They all seem about five minutes long, and you can barely remember a single name. This contrasts with later in the year, when lessons seem to stretch on for days and you know the kids so well that you can tell exactly when your rowdy boys at the back are going to start breaking out the WWE moves.
Tuesday: First two-skills class. These are in the 'regular' classrooms where there are anywhere from 40-50 students. As I'm walking to class, a recurring thought is stuck in my head on a loop; "I'm not ready for this. I don't want to do it. I'd rather be anywhere else than here." Of course, this is just my cowardice talking. I meet my Thai co-teacher, go inside, and end up having a terrific time playing team games and introducing myself to students. These two-skills classes are what I like to call 'coal-face' teaching- it's just you, your wits, and a minimal amount of materials. You've just got to run in there and teach as much as possible to as many possible.
Wednesday: I saw one of my English Program classes for the first time since Monday morning. It was one of those classes where everything seemed to slot into place and I crushed it. The students were completing the tasks, listening to instructions, and seemingly having a great time. Of course, you can't claim credit for it as a teacher, because you could easily do everything exactly the same at a different time or with a different class and it could bomb. Badly. It's happened to me before, and it's just the worst feeling- you've tried your best in terms of preparation, you gave it your best effort up there in front of the whiteboard, you were enthusiastic...but it just doesn't strike. For me, teaching is kind of like surfing; imagine there's a wave that comes crashing towards you. If you're on your game you can harness the momentum and energy, and allow yourself to be carried along. If your timing is off, then that same momentum can just smack you right in the gut and bury you into a spluttering mess. (I think that's how surfing works. I lack the physique, coordination, and desire required in your average surfer. Anyhow, the analogy stands.)
Tuesday: First two-skills class. These are in the 'regular' classrooms where there are anywhere from 40-50 students. As I'm walking to class, a recurring thought is stuck in my head on a loop; "I'm not ready for this. I don't want to do it. I'd rather be anywhere else than here." Of course, this is just my cowardice talking. I meet my Thai co-teacher, go inside, and end up having a terrific time playing team games and introducing myself to students. These two-skills classes are what I like to call 'coal-face' teaching- it's just you, your wits, and a minimal amount of materials. You've just got to run in there and teach as much as possible to as many possible.
Wednesday: I saw one of my English Program classes for the first time since Monday morning. It was one of those classes where everything seemed to slot into place and I crushed it. The students were completing the tasks, listening to instructions, and seemingly having a great time. Of course, you can't claim credit for it as a teacher, because you could easily do everything exactly the same at a different time or with a different class and it could bomb. Badly. It's happened to me before, and it's just the worst feeling- you've tried your best in terms of preparation, you gave it your best effort up there in front of the whiteboard, you were enthusiastic...but it just doesn't strike. For me, teaching is kind of like surfing; imagine there's a wave that comes crashing towards you. If you're on your game you can harness the momentum and energy, and allow yourself to be carried along. If your timing is off, then that same momentum can just smack you right in the gut and bury you into a spluttering mess. (I think that's how surfing works. I lack the physique, coordination, and desire required in your average surfer. Anyhow, the analogy stands.)
Thursday: Sure enough, things gradually picked up again. One of the better aspects of this profession is that you rarely have too much time to dwell on a poor performance. Had a shocker today? Well you'll be seeing them again tomorrow, so make it better. Today was also my first 'spontaneous' class of the year; with my co-teacher missing, I essentially had free-rein to create a lesson. This is fun, of course, but also immensely challenging; when your remit is "get these kids to speak English", there's an almost incomprehensibly massive amount of topics you could choose. In the end I got them to do a lesson on colours and idioms, which went down surprisingly well. The students were incredibly enthusiastic and dived right into the work without any nudging needed. This contrasted with my last class of the day, who I'd already taught once in the morning. This was my first such scheduling conundrum, and if possible the students were even less energetic than I was. Still, low energy levels make for easy lessons. I can't really complain.
Friday: A busy day (including a temporarily missing two-skills class and both my English Program classes in the last two periods), but honestly I couldn't care less: it's Friday! I could teach every single period and still be happy. Bedraggled and broken, yes- but also happy. I veritably waltz through the day, 4 o'clock soon comes, and I'm home and dry until Monday...apart from the Parents Meeting on Saturday and compulsory church service on Sunday. Just as well I'm rested after that long summer break...
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