The garden by the neighborhood's entrance. Due to a bad hip, Jackie had to give up her role as its caretaker about a year ago, and she tries not to lament all the weeds that have sprung up. Maybe they'll become dangerous, but for now, it still looks lovely.
Lemon meringue and coconut cream pie are the two favorite desserts of Jackie's boyfriend Ben. It was my first time making the former; I still need to try the latter.
Two weeks ago, I met my new German students. The first few weeks of student teaching are commonly referred to as “the honeymoon,” when hundreds of little angels cooperate perfectly for their student teacher’s lessons. As college students, we are instantly Cool. Plus, they haven’t had time yet to get bored and start misbehaving. This phase does not last, but I’m still in it. I love my students. I’ve barely learned all 130 names, but I’m already sad about leaving them in mid-October for French, wonderful though those kids may be.
This week I took over both sections of German 1. We’ve been learning numbers, greetings, stating one’s name, and the questions “Who/what is that?” Most of them had a 9-week exploratory German class last year, so I’m trying not to bore half of them with the review that the other half really needs. I have a lot to learn, and especially in first period, I feel bad that they're suffering from my figuring things out. But I’m excited for the huge wall map they’re making, merged with presentations on the German states. Next week, while they’re busy with the project, I’ll start teaching German 2 as well.
It’s interesting seeing what they know and don’t know. Even German 2 students, after one year, can understand a LOT of German. But they always forget, when writing, that “I’m going” and “I go” are translated the same way into German. (Same with any –ing verb.) Poor kids – I’d forgotten how hard the early stuff can be...even before the past tense … In a writing exercise today, translated from English, one kid had the following beauty:
Original (English): Stefan is putting food into the bag.
Attempted (Denglisch/invented): Stefan ist puttingt fuden in dem sack.
Correct (German): Stefan stellt das Essen in die Tasche.
In German 4, students had to state their names and interests for me. When I asked one student what he liked, he accidentally answered “Woman.” He got a bit flustered when everyone started laughing. I was dying, and it took a while to regain control. I hope he wasn’t offended, because when something is honestly funny, I have a very hard time keeping a straight face. I always lost those “don’t smile” games in elementary school.
Mr. Hindman used to live in Austria, so his knowledge of language and culture is outstanding. This summer he took a group of students to Austria and Germany. The kids love talking about their time there, and so does he, which makes German feel very personal. It’s great hearing their stories and enthusiasm. It’s also a big switch from last year’s placement, where my mentor teacher had only ever spent a week in France and had been homesick the entire time.
“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” he [Tomaso] asked. His voice was very soft and he raised his eyes to me. “Why are you always looking in me?” I saw his hand close around the scissors and lower them. “I wanted to hate you. Why wouldn’t you let me? Why wouldn’t you just let me be alone?”
[…] I was overwhelmed. The question of questions he had asked me. What right did I have to make him care about a world that did not care about him? For every child I saw, for every child I touched, that question was there. And he had not been the first to doubt my wisdom in it. For me the sorrow came in having no answer, in never being quite sure that the pain I gave was better than the pain I relieved.
-Torey Hayden, Somebody Else’s Kids
Reading this book has made me cry, probably more than any other book. It’s also caused me to think about why I’m drawn to teaching, and what I want from it. Hayden describes the utter beauty she sees in these kids, their expertise at pushing her buttons, and her fluctuation between trying to pretend she’s omniscient and doubting she knows anything useful. She’s an idealist and a dreamer, and I needed a dose of that before starting student teaching. It’s easy to let details swallow up vision instead of fleshing it out. That scares me.
Torey Hayden reminds me that school is about the learners, not about the lessons. Lori’s brain damage has left her unable to process symbols: though her IQ is normal, she can’t even distinguish the letters in her own name. When Lori is humiliated in front of the “regular” first-grade class for her inability to read, Torey apologizes for the school. “We should never have made you feel that reading was more important to us than you are.”
I know foreign languages are scary to a lot of people. While I believe everyone who’s learned their native language can learn another one, I don’t want to blindly demand a skill or a rate of learning from everyone. May I have sympathy for the learners who honestly don’t get it, even when it seems ludicrously easy to me. May I avoid mixing up the struggler with the stubborn, or the confused with the lazy. Too often, lack of sympathy is the plague of the teacher who learned her subject matter easily.
Yesterday, In-Service finally began at my school, meaning everyone at the high school is preparing for students. Actually, we began yesterday at Harrison Middle School listening to pep talks and instructions. (The folding chairs said “HARRISON” on the back, but the one in front of mine had been scratched off to read “PRISON.”) The highlight was definitely the silent speech given by the superintendant, who simply let us read each Powerpoint. A memorable quote: “Talk is cheap. The Romans didn’t build an empire by talking…okay, so they did it by slaughtering their opponents, but still…”
The teachers had to learn their way around the school just like me. (We went on a scavenger hunt, where staff filled our “goody bags” with planners, dry erase markers, first aid kits, etc.) It’s been closed all summer as massive renovations near completion. They’re thrilled about their sparkling new rooms and upgraded technology. With about half the building open, they’ve been teaching out of boxes the last few years. There’s still a long way to go – exposed drywall, unlaid tile, stepladders, and floor-waxing machines are the norm. Several sections won’t be finished until January, so some teachers have temporary room assignments. But it’s already a huge improvement, they say.
Unpacking boxes and hanging posters has helped me connect with my mentor teachers, especially Mr. Hindman in German. Originally, I expected to work with both teachers for half the day all semester. Now, it looks like I’ll be with him for 8 weeks, then switch to Mrs. Frye in French. But she’s already given me her #1 Advice for New Teachers: “Do what you want until someone yells at you.” Words to live by. Until then, I think I’m going to love teaching with Mr. Hindman. He’s infectiously enthusiastic and full of cool ideas. I just need to adjust to his schedule: he arrives between 5:45 and 6 daily, so I’ll need to leave my house by 5:30. Students arrive Monday, but I’m not nervous yet…there’s much to be done in the meantime.
During the lull before student teaching, I’m enjoying the chance to be included in some of her interests. We solve the New York Times crossword puzzle together - I contribute 3 answers; she gets the other 27. She takes me biking around Pittsburgh and walking through the woods behind her. (We got home from biking 20 miles yesterday; while I took a rare nap, she swam laps.) She shares her “Economist” magazines, her Wall Street Journal, and her library card. I chat with the mostly-retired neighbors in her condo complex about their upcoming events in the Bulgarian Cultural Society. I eat sweet corn on the porch with her and her “special friend” Ben, pleading to help clean up for once.
It’s also neat to see her nearly Internet-free lifestyle. For years, she’s had four hours per month of dial-up. Since I’ve gotten here, she’s used a biographical dictionary, a 1974 World Book Encyclopedia, a catalogue of bird species, an atlas, and other paper-based resources. She says she does Google her crossword clues on occasion, but generally the Internet is superfluous for her.
I hope Jackie rubs off on me this semester.
I came out to Pittsburgh last Monday in my family’s new standard transmission car. I don’t especially enjoy driving: it's an area where my "Space Cadet" reputation can kill people. I also do not learn quickly with most things mechanical. So even after three stick shift lessons over a year, I still lacked the ability, one week prior, to consistently start on the smallest of hills. I'd never driven in traffic. But I am pleased to report that following an intensive week of training, I successfully drove alone to Pittsburgh. (My area’s not called South Hills for nothing!) Let me define success: No mechanics were involved. I have since upgraded the definition to “no tears,” and “no honking” is coming soon. By December, I might get to “no stalling.”
Tuesday, I drove (again successfully) to Penn State McKeesport for the orientation with other student teachers and our supervisor. It confirmed my initial impressions in two ways: this will be a tough semester, and my supervisor seems excellent. Supportive and competent – what a combination! I also learned that my school starts a week later than anyone else’s. I’m not even meeting my mentor teachers for In-Service days until after Labor Day; everyone else starts this Monday or sooner with In-Service.
During our lunch break, I walked down to the PSU library and was surprised to hear a band playing nearby. My first thought was marching band practice, but I realized it was all polka music. I was further confused because the sound seemed to be simultaneously coming from an empty field, two different classroom buildings, and a nearby church. They even played the “Pennsylvania Polka,” which you might remember from “Groundhog Day.” As I drove away hours later, strains of the “Pennsylvania Polka” further baffled me until I finally spotted a hill above campus, covered with colorful tents. If anyone knows more about McKeesport’s Annual Polka Festival or whatever it was, please share, because it seemed to be an impressive production. Maybe even the top polka scene in Western Pennsylvania.
P.S. I figured Penn State McKeesport was diverse, but I was taken aback when a campus map showed “White Student Lot,” “Brown Student Lot,” and “Yellow Student Lot.” A green one proved that race wasn’t meant here, but you’d think they could choose better colors with this phrasing.
