A room of her own

After a week of teaching in other teachers' classrooms, I got my own classroom. It did not come easily of course, because this is Mexico where people are well schooled in hardship. We went back to school on Thursday after the hurricane (Hurricane Fizzle I have renamed her) and my classroom was supposed to be ready. By ready, I mean cleaned up a bit, with tables and chairs. Our English director had told Patty and me for two weeks the rooms would be ready but nothing had happened. I began to suspect there was a bit of bad politics between the Spanish and English departments that was the source of this delay. When I arrived on Thursday and the rooms were not ready and we began scrambling to organize a different space, I decided to apply what I have learned about Mexico: actions will speak louder than words. (That was my Mom's favorite saying in life.) I walked out saying only to call me when the room was ready. Patty, who cannot afford to step out of line, told me she supported me totally. I walked home thinking that at least I have a pension, but then my cell phone rang just as I reached my back door. It was Rosie, the English coordinator, and she said the room was ready. I walked back to school and the classroom was at last set up. As you can see from the photo this is not a high-tech fancy classroom, so not much was involved in the set-up. In fact nothing is high-tech or fancy at Libertad. Yesterday once again the teachers toilet was broken and the kids' bathroom had no toilet paper for most of the day.

The highlight of all this is the kids. They are wonderful and not just because they all do their homework. (Patty says they are good for me because I do not speak Spanish to them.) I had the students write essays about their plans and dreams for the future and I was blown away when I read them. Many students wrote about their dream to have a good career which would help those less fortunate. I guess compared to the public schools this place is paradise but the poverty at Libertad is still very hard to accept. I keep thinking that these bright, hardworking, polite, respectful students should be in a school like Mission.

My schedule was changed so it is not going to be as light as I thought. I think the school thinks that Patty and I can do a good job at this teaching English thing, so the 7-12 students who usually have 5 hours of English a week are now going to have 7. We are going to try to support each other so that we can have a few more breaks in our day. (Either that or we die, being the old ladies that we are.) Our classrooms are next to each other with a sliding door separating us. We work well together although I know my teaching methods seem new and different and probably a little crazy to her. Of course many of my teacher friends in the states would testify that my teaching methods were crazy at times: fun maybe, but crazy. I have done most of the planning for the two of us so far and she seems to be very willing to change some of her methods. I am basically creating all our curriculum because there is very little to be had. Of course nowadays there is an endless supply of curriculum on the Internet and the school lets us make as many copies of things as we wish. My experience teaching immigrant adults English in St. Louis Park is helping me now and just understanding the culture better helps as well. Harry says my walking out was a shot across the bow: it didn't hurt anyone but they know now that I do have a bottom line! I can go without toilet paper (although that's a bummer too!) but not without a classroom.