No sure thing

September 22, 2009 at 5:50 am | Posted in a trip called teaching, la vida, Real-life adventures, Working on answering what's next | 7 Comments
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I’ve been an absent blogger for, let’s face it, pretty much the whole time I’ve been blogging. I did OK when I first started this thing, in Granada in 2008, but the consistent writing only lasted a few months. I don’t know why I’m feeling inspired to start again now…but true to a commitment phobe’s nature, I’m making no promises that I’ll keep it up.

Here I am again, in Granada, after a nine-month stint in Madrid and a couple summers spent living at home. Last time I was here, I was a teacher’s assistant, part of a popular program organized by the Spanish and American governments to bring native English speakers into Spain’s bilingual schools to combat the country’s bad reputation associated with learning the language. I played that game for two years, as it provides a nice monthly stipend to live off of — complete with health insurance, paid vacation and legal resident status — but I was absolutely out of my element most of the time and basically just getting by in the hopes of figuring out what I really wanted to do in the meantime.

The first year, in Granada, was markedly worse than the second, caused by both circumstances and poor choices. I was placed in a school that was in the process of becoming bilingual, and it was my job (in partnership with the other language assistant at the school, a girl my age from Quebec) to “teach” the teachers who would be expected to teach at least 30 percent of their classes in English the following year. Did I mention I had no teaching experience or training, and my job description explicity prohibited me from leading a class without the supervision of an actual teacher? So the other girl and I spent every morning giving “conversation classes” to small groups of teachers, which involved a lot of coming up with games and activities that would let the teachers practice speaking English in a hopefully not-too- boring way. But it was boring, and I habitually started dreading the work week, consisting of 12 teaching hours over four days plus some private evening classes, as early as Saturday afternoon.

But the school situation was not the only factor contributing to the bad year. This was technically my first time living completely on my own, as I started the program right out of college.  I’d been working since I was 16 but had never had to make a budget for my monthly earnings in order to cover all my living expenses, wants and saving goals. Thus, I picked an apartment that was too expensive, planned trips I couldn’t afford and stressed myself out to save more than feasible on my stipend. In order to meet those goals, I took on too many private classes, which were spread out all over the city, paid me less than I should have accepted and filled most of my evenings Monday through Thursday. All lessons learned the hard way, but learned well.

The second year wasn’t so bad, even rewarding at times. This time I worked at an elementary school with only 100 students in a pueblo just north of Madrid. I worked with everyone from three-year-olds to sixth-graders to teachers, and the staff was small and welcoming. My favorite thing about the year was having a purpose — preparing the young’ns to take an important English level exam at the end of the year and helping the English teachers make their classes more authentic. I didn’t just fill hours like a student waiting for the bell to ring; I was needed, even too much at times, and I got to see my students’ progress over time. I even discovered something that shocked my friends and family, not to mention me: I really like working with kids, like little ones. I thought I had no maternal instinct, and maybe I don’t, but they’re so darn cute and just make you smile. I never would’ve thought being an elementary school teacher would even cross my mind as an option, but if I decide to teach one day, I will most certainly consider that age group. If for that experience alone,  the year was more than worthwhile for me.

What’s more, the experience was better than the last because I made smarter choices as far as planning my private classes. I decided to set the condition that in order to accept a class, it had to be SUPER convenient for me. And it worked. I limited myself to just a few classes, and I got a ride directly to their houses via a co-worker in every instance. I even lucked out and was hired to give a weekly class at the royal nursery, which just happened to be down the street from my school and pretty much ended any financial worries I may have had. Needless to say, I was generally much less stressed overall than the previous year.

All of this leads me to this year, in Granada again, but no longer as a language assistant. So, what am I doing now? The better question is, “What am I not doing?” In mid-October, I begin a master’s program at the local university. I’ll spend full evenings Wednesday through Friday studying “international cooperation,” which involves things like economics, politics, humanitarian aid, management and government. In my two free evenings I’ll give English classes in people’s homes, a job organized through a language academy in the city. During the day, I’ll run (my boyfriend and I are training for a half-marathon, you know), give private classes I arrange on my own, and do freelance translation work and hopefully some writing.  At least this is how I envision my year to come, but I’m fully aware that my eyes may be bigger than my belly, so to speak.

I wanted to do this year on my own, without the hand-holding of any program designed to facilitate foreigners’ experiences abroad. I’ve done that type of thing four times now, study abroad programs included, and it’s time I do something with no expiration date. I got my legal papers (well, they’ve been accepted and are being processed) on my own, translated all my academic documents and got into the master’s program on my own, got the English teaching job on my own and will hopefully build more translation contacts on my own, as well. This means that when the academic year ends in June, I won’t be back at square one, wondering what to do next. I’ll have jobs that could potentially carry on into the future, or at least contacts and new qualifications that could lead to such a job. Thus, my reasons for telling myself that I’ve started off this new adventure by making smart decisions, and we’ll see how the circumstances turn out to be. So far, things are looking good.

The rundown

October 10, 2008 at 8:26 am | Posted in a trip called teaching, Cultural education | Leave a comment

I really need to try to write a few times a week because now when I finally sit down to write, I have so much to say, I don’t know where to start. Or, I can remember having a bunch of “I should write about that” moments, but I’ve forgotten what I was referring to.

Let me start by saying this experience is completely different than last year, which was exactly what I was hoping for. Last year, my work day consisted of giving English conversation classes to groups of teachers at a high school that was working on becoming bilingual. It was fun getting to know the teachers, but the whole routine got really old really fast. Not to mention, every move I made, the other language assistant at the school also made because we had the same function and the same schedule.

This year, I spend my day (usually from 10:30 or 11 until 4:30) going from class to class helping the teachers with whatever they happen to be teaching that day or leading an activity that I planned myself. I’m more involved in some classes than in others, and my least favorite aspect of the job is the times when there’s nothing for me to do and I just stand around looking awkward in front of the kids. But that’s happening less and less as the teachers (who are mostly all new to this bilingual school thing) and I figure out how I can participate in the class.

I like that I’m getting to know the kids although it’ll be a while before I know all of their names. Just about every girl, and female teacher’s, name is Maria this or that (Maria Jose, Maria Jesus, Maria Teresa, etc.), which makes things complicated. I also like seeing how smart some of them are, and I’ve been surprised to see that one of the worst-behaved kids is also one of the most clever.

I like that I’m learning how to interact with kids, and I’m getting a better understanding of what they’re capable of at what age. Last week I had my first private English class with a 5-year-old girl, and I left the class thinking she was a little terror because she refused to participate in any activity I tried to initiate. After having a couple more classes with other kids around her age, I realized it was partially my fault — 5-year-olds can’t read…who knew? I also thought she was just copping an attitude when she said she didn’t remember her birthday, but it turns out little kids don’t necessarily know their birthday. All news for me, as I’ve never worked with kids in any form or fashion besides babysitting a long time ago for a couple of neighbors who weren’t much younger than me.

Even the school itself is much different than the school where I worked last year. I’ve already mentioned how small it is, and the teachers keep telling me they’re like a family, even though several of them are new this year. Breakfast (a morning break from 11:30-12) and lunch (from 2:15-3) are served in the cafeteria, but this is no typical cafeteria food. Breakfast usually consists of coffee or tea with an assortment of pastries and fruit, but sometimes they mix it up, like when we had chocolate and churros one day earlier this week. Lunch is a multiple-course meal, starting out with something light like salad or lentils and then getting more serious with offerings like lasagne or fish. It’s always fresh and plentiful, and there’s always dessert followed by coffee.

On my first day, one of the teachers advised me to bring my lunch as the school food engorda (gets you fat). I ate at the school the first two days as it was too good to resist, but after lunch I felt so full and sleepy that it was impossible to stay on my toes in my last two classes of the day. So I started bringing my lunch this week and have felt much more awake in my afternoon classes. However, I think I will let myself partake in the feast a day or two per month.

I’ve really only been on the job for about a week and a half now, so I’m still feeling it out. I think I’m lucky as far as the school I got placed in, as it’s in a nice town, the teachers are enthusiastic, and the students can be loud but are generally well-behaved. It’s going to be a learning experience for me as well as my co-workers and students.

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