23 June 2003

Teaching English

Living in a foreign country just seems to lend itself to teaching English.  Not being a teacher by trade I have come to this occupation of English teaching quite by accident.  My qualification, according to the French is that I can pronounce English words without an accent.

Being from Southeast Ohio you know I can’t possibly speak English like a true mid-westerner.  The French don’t seem to notice.  When I meet someone new they often ask is if I am British.  The first time this happened I am sure I looked shocked.  I just couldn’t believe that my British heritage showed since my family hasn’t spoken the Queen’s English since 1682.  No matter though…the French just can’t tell a British accent from an American one.

When I volunteered to teach English at Cat’s school I was surprised that the first grade teacher took me up on the offer.  Fortunately for me I am quick on my feet, and six year olds are fascinating folks, AND I asked Natalie, my French soul sister who helped me do translations for the French Prostitute Website to teach with me.

The teacher informed us, when I asked for an outline of what she wanted the kids to learn, that all we had to do was “introduce” them to the concept of speaking English.  So I decided, after looking at the most ridiculous British instructions on how to teach English (this was the teacher’s model) that it is no wonder I can’t understand people when they speak England’s English, not to mention Scottish or Welsh.

Then we were told that we had 10 minutes every Monday with 24 energetic 6 year olds to get them to speak in sentences like “I am a girl and my name is ______” plus “This is my nose, my eyes and the rest of me.” 

I just shook my head and decided to have fun.  My goal was for the kids to learn to say “Thank you” because the “th” sound is not used in French so it comes out like “sank you”.  My other goal was to help these little French folks to connect in some small positive way with this American. 

The first week the kids looked at me like I had lost my mind when I sang the alphabet song.  I refused to speak French so we had to come to an understanding that the first letter of the alphabet is not “ah”, but “aay”, and “zee” is not “zed”.  The monkey I used to sing the song brought cheers when she squeaked, and the American flag pencil I gave at the end for each “sank you” was a huge success.  I was “in like Flynn” as they say.

Some weeks the boys got rowdy when they had to wait their turn to be the leader of a song or a game.  I put an end to that right off by temporarily kicking the disagreeable ones out at the first sign of revolt.  At this point I became the benevolent dictator, and I ruled with great gusto.

Next we did “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” which made me a star because I could sing it faster and faster with each verse and at the end all of the children were yelling “Vite, vite” (quicker, quicker).

A few weeks ago I introduced the song “If you are Happy and you know it Clap Your Hands”.  Of course there are lots of verses and we learned more parts of our bodies this way. 

As the weeks passed I could see they were growing more comfortable with the strange sounds I  taught them, and our latest game of cards with pictures of girls, boys, dogs, numbers and colors produced squeals of delight when they chimed in the answer all at once.

From January to June Natalie and I taught our hearts out.  For the last class of the school year we planned for the children to put on a show for their teacher.

As they rehearsed the latest song and clapped their little hands I felt such a wave of sadness for a brief instance.  It occurred to me that I will more than likely not see them again in this life again,  but I have given them something beyond the ability to say “thank you” perfectly.  I have helped them to feel the joy of learning something new from someone who is very different from them, and they are feeling good about themselves.

Now I k now that my grandmother must have had the same goal in her life with me.  She helped me to feel such joy in the simplest things like going on picnics and wading in the “crik” at the Park of Roses in Columbus, Ohio.  We would turn over rocks looking for crawdads and then slam the rocks into the water to splash each other.  She gave me an appreciation of giving to others in all that she did.

At the end of the year “fete” for the teacher our little students sang, “If You are Happy and you know it Clap Your Hands” with such joy that I could feel my grandmother close to me.  I felt the joy of those little French folks, and I was proud.