This weekend, my film class watched American Beauty. While my students normally start begging me to let them out 30 minutes early, I could barely get them to leave this Saturday. Working in groups, I had them discuss the title of the film and symbolism within the film (being more of a literature expert, I take a similar approach to teaching film). Still used to giving such assignments to my former high school students who would reluctantly talk for a few minutes and then spout out a couple of sentences (often repeating what I had already said), I was so excited to hear them get excited. They discussed the motif of red throughout the movie, pointing out observations even I hadn't made. They talked about typical American families and compared the idea of catching people in their private lives to a previous movie we had watched, Rear Window.
I have a lot of fun when my classes go so well, but it also reminds me just how intelligent many of my students are. Some of them have advanced education in their home countries. Many others have had a world of experience and now find themselves practically forced into my classroom.
This is no typical college experience. While my students seem to enjoy the cinema class and are good sports in my language classes, I don't flatter myself into thinking they're choosing to be there out of pure interest in the subject matter. Our country makes it very hard for immigrants to stay here, and I'm put into the tricky position of ensuring they maintain their full-time student status or else risk deportment. This isn't easy, considering that my students work full-time, often illegally, although of course I'm not supposed to know that. The law requires that they spend a certain amount of time in class each week, but students hope and beg for teacher cooperation in the form of fudging the records. Since I would prefer to keep my job and ensure a future career for myself, I have to be tougher than I want to be with them. My director insists I should just mention the word "deportment" over and over in order to scare them into coming to class. Preferring to take a more sensitive approach, I remind them of the precarious position they put both themselves and the school (and me) in when they don't show up to class.
I'm learning a lot from this experience and can already see immigration rights becoming my new pet cause that I obsess over. It's funny how few people know about the problems and sometimes corruption that goes on behind the scenes...I had no idea about these issues before I took the job.
I also no longer take for granted the fact that I live here free and clear. I don't have to struggle to assimilate to a foreign culture, and I don't have to worry about being "shipped off" if I make a mistake. Even if I did decide to live in another country, I would always have a decent life here if it didn't work out. My students can't necessarily say the same.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Finding My Niche
I haven't been subbing much, which is why I don't have so many crazy/interesting/horrible stories to share here. Instead, I've been offered a position at a language school, where I'll be splitting my time with the small college. It's ESL...strange how a couple of years ago my dream was to teach high school English and as I try out these various teaching experiences, I become more and more drawn to teaching adults from around the world. It seems to fit me. At the high school level, I'm inevitably forced to be part teacher, part disciplinarian. Oh, and part punching bag for those teens with out-of-wack hormones and an affinity for being easily offended. With adults, I get to be all teacher. They want to be there, or even if they don't want to be there, they generally have the maturity level not to show it.
Teaching at this level is not without its surprises though. For instance, at this new language school where I interviewed on Monday, I was simply hoping they'd consider me for a position next semester. After talking herself into believing my experience was sufficient (my year and a half of teaching plus a couple of years of tutoring don't exactly add up to the four-year teaching requirement), she mentioned that they were in dire need of a new teacher for a 12-hour (!) American cinema course. Would I be interested?
Hell, yeah. I love movies! I'd like to spend my life doing nothing but watching movies and then discussing them over wine in mellow dive bars with groups of prententious cinephiles...if only I could. Well, maybe just a couple months doing that. My point is, I love to watch movies, love to think about movies, love to discuss movies. Since I also love to teach, doesn't this seem like the perfect course for me?
Okay, so I've never taken a film course in my life, much less taught one. Plenty of other teachers out there know way more about film than I do. In fact, my competition was a 60-year-old filmmaker with a Ph.D. and loads of teaching experience. So the chances of them hiring me?
Well, who cares what the odds are because they gave me the freaking course!
My one guess is that the filmmaker turned them down, but maybe not. I got the idea that the director really wanted to hire me all along. Maybe she wants to make me her pet?
Sooo...new schedule for this semester. Monday, Wednesday - teach vocabulary and grammar courses at School #1. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday - teach American cinema at school #2. Friday off (unless I fill in for one of the other teachers). Sunday off. No more high school for a while.
Next semester...well, there goes that unpredictability again. Maybe they'll let me teach the American music course!
I love my job. And I'm so happy I can finally say that.
Teaching at this level is not without its surprises though. For instance, at this new language school where I interviewed on Monday, I was simply hoping they'd consider me for a position next semester. After talking herself into believing my experience was sufficient (my year and a half of teaching plus a couple of years of tutoring don't exactly add up to the four-year teaching requirement), she mentioned that they were in dire need of a new teacher for a 12-hour (!) American cinema course. Would I be interested?
Hell, yeah. I love movies! I'd like to spend my life doing nothing but watching movies and then discussing them over wine in mellow dive bars with groups of prententious cinephiles...if only I could. Well, maybe just a couple months doing that. My point is, I love to watch movies, love to think about movies, love to discuss movies. Since I also love to teach, doesn't this seem like the perfect course for me?
Okay, so I've never taken a film course in my life, much less taught one. Plenty of other teachers out there know way more about film than I do. In fact, my competition was a 60-year-old filmmaker with a Ph.D. and loads of teaching experience. So the chances of them hiring me?
Well, who cares what the odds are because they gave me the freaking course!
My one guess is that the filmmaker turned them down, but maybe not. I got the idea that the director really wanted to hire me all along. Maybe she wants to make me her pet?
Sooo...new schedule for this semester. Monday, Wednesday - teach vocabulary and grammar courses at School #1. Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday - teach American cinema at school #2. Friday off (unless I fill in for one of the other teachers). Sunday off. No more high school for a while.
Next semester...well, there goes that unpredictability again. Maybe they'll let me teach the American music course!
I love my job. And I'm so happy I can finally say that.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
My Classroom, My Stage
One thing I love about teaching: I get to temporarily suspend my everyday persona and "take the stage" in front of my classes as the star in my own production. I've always regretted not taking theater classes as an undergrad because I think it would have helped my nerves a lot. I still get butterflies right before a class starts. Knowing that I have to be "on" for, well four hours straight with my current teaching schedule (no breaks in between for me) is intimidating, especially for a daydreamer like me. As a student, I drift in and out of class. As a teacher, I have to be non-stop intriguing, aware of what's going on in the class, and prepared to answer any and all questions.
To do this effectively, it helps to play a role. My role is the teacher who's "so crazy and confident, she just doesn't care." This means I have to be okay with the knowledge that my students will probably make fun of me outside of class...and they might imitate me. I've accepted that (I think). I'm not trying to be best friends with my students, so why not? It's fun to just not care....it means I can be a complete goof with no repercussions.
After all, I have other teacher friends to commiserate with me. And they do crazier things than I do. I'm known to act out the vocabulary words I teach to my ESL students, but that's not as outlandish as the teacher I knew who would walk around on the classroom tables while doing her lectures to keep the students' attention. Then, there's the elementary teacher I know who's lowkey around her colleagues, but turns into a singing/dancing maniac in front of her kids.
You know, teaching may be just the thing for all those people who have given up on their dreams of being on the stage. Stand in front of a classroom, and you can be whomever you want to be. If you're talented and excellent at improv, you'll have the captive audience you've always wanted.
To do this effectively, it helps to play a role. My role is the teacher who's "so crazy and confident, she just doesn't care." This means I have to be okay with the knowledge that my students will probably make fun of me outside of class...and they might imitate me. I've accepted that (I think). I'm not trying to be best friends with my students, so why not? It's fun to just not care....it means I can be a complete goof with no repercussions.
After all, I have other teacher friends to commiserate with me. And they do crazier things than I do. I'm known to act out the vocabulary words I teach to my ESL students, but that's not as outlandish as the teacher I knew who would walk around on the classroom tables while doing her lectures to keep the students' attention. Then, there's the elementary teacher I know who's lowkey around her colleagues, but turns into a singing/dancing maniac in front of her kids.
You know, teaching may be just the thing for all those people who have given up on their dreams of being on the stage. Stand in front of a classroom, and you can be whomever you want to be. If you're talented and excellent at improv, you'll have the captive audience you've always wanted.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Disorientation
I started my new college teaching job yesterday!
Well...I didn't actually teach anything. It was orientation day for 80+ ESL students, and I got to stand around for a few hours pretending I knew what was happening. I apparently did an okay job standing out as an employee of the school (must have been my clipboard) because I got approached by a dozen or so students who thought I could answer their scheduling and registration questions. I fudged my way through answers as if it weren't my first day on the job.
Man, I'm glad I'm not an ESL student. These people have to go through so much. It doesn't matter that they may have been lawyers or chemists or whatever else in their home countries. They come here, and they're suddenly lucky if they get a nanny job. Then they have to take all these expensive English classes just to retain their F1 status.*
For anyone who's ever said about newcomers to this country, "if they live here, they should speak our language," I challenge you to go to a foreign country with a completely different language. Not Spanish-speaking or even French - some place with a whole different alphabet system. Then, see how easy it is to learn and speak this new language with fluency. See how comfortable you feel communicating with native speakers.
If this isn't an option, I suggest you volunteer to tutor an ESL student (or ELL - the terms are always changing). There are thousands of opportunities like this available, and I'm sure it sounds so easy. You know English. Therefore, you know how to teach English. Well, not necessarily. Try explaining why "could" and "wood" rhyme or why "bought" has a "g" or why the plural of "moose" is "moose." That's just the beginning. When you start getting into parts of speech, the thousands of rules and thousands of exceptions to rules, past preterite, subjunctive, etc., etc., you'll begin to wonder how you ever managed to learn such a non-sensical language.
Okay, scrambling off my soapbox now. Despite the chaos and confusion that resulted from sticking dozens of students from many different countries into one small classroom to listen to a PowerPoint presentation, I think I'm going to enjoy this job. I start officially teaching tomorrow, so stay tuned....
*F1 status is given to students who can demonstrate that they plan to engage in full-time study in the new country. International students have to take a certain number of class hours to retain this status and stay here.
Well...I didn't actually teach anything. It was orientation day for 80+ ESL students, and I got to stand around for a few hours pretending I knew what was happening. I apparently did an okay job standing out as an employee of the school (must have been my clipboard) because I got approached by a dozen or so students who thought I could answer their scheduling and registration questions. I fudged my way through answers as if it weren't my first day on the job.
Man, I'm glad I'm not an ESL student. These people have to go through so much. It doesn't matter that they may have been lawyers or chemists or whatever else in their home countries. They come here, and they're suddenly lucky if they get a nanny job. Then they have to take all these expensive English classes just to retain their F1 status.*
For anyone who's ever said about newcomers to this country, "if they live here, they should speak our language," I challenge you to go to a foreign country with a completely different language. Not Spanish-speaking or even French - some place with a whole different alphabet system. Then, see how easy it is to learn and speak this new language with fluency. See how comfortable you feel communicating with native speakers.
If this isn't an option, I suggest you volunteer to tutor an ESL student (or ELL - the terms are always changing). There are thousands of opportunities like this available, and I'm sure it sounds so easy. You know English. Therefore, you know how to teach English. Well, not necessarily. Try explaining why "could" and "wood" rhyme or why "bought" has a "g" or why the plural of "moose" is "moose." That's just the beginning. When you start getting into parts of speech, the thousands of rules and thousands of exceptions to rules, past preterite, subjunctive, etc., etc., you'll begin to wonder how you ever managed to learn such a non-sensical language.
Okay, scrambling off my soapbox now. Despite the chaos and confusion that resulted from sticking dozens of students from many different countries into one small classroom to listen to a PowerPoint presentation, I think I'm going to enjoy this job. I start officially teaching tomorrow, so stay tuned....
*F1 status is given to students who can demonstrate that they plan to engage in full-time study in the new country. International students have to take a certain number of class hours to retain this status and stay here.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Welcome Back, Class
Bet you thought I was never coming back. Well....I had a long interval of non-teaching over the summer and simply was not feeling inspired to write. I could have blogged about my seemingly endless job search for the perfect teaching job - okay, any teaching job - but I didn't want to depress you.
Let me tell you what I'm doing this fall.
Tomorrow, I start teaching adults. That's right....adults, college students, people who have chosen to take the classes that I'm teaching. What's better is that they're international students learning English. That presents a new set of challenges, but more than counteracts the sarcasm and indifference innate to high school students.
Don't worry though. I haven't escaped teenagers altogether. Until they decide to hire me full-time at this small college or until I go completely loco, I will supplement my income by substitute teaching in Chicago's lovely public school system. Ah yes...let me tell you about how exciting that is.
Substitute teaching in CPS is obviously such a privilege that only the most die-hard self-torturers can get through the application process. Let me just give you a brief rundown of what I had to do to become an official CPS sub. You'd think, already being certified as a type 09 teacher and having a master's degree and having already student taught in CPS, that all I'd have to do is fill out a little extra paperwork. You'd think wrong.
Instead, after realizing that they'd never answer their phone or e-mail, I finally physically went down to the CPS downtown headquarters to get my questions answered. Once there, they gave me an application packet despite the fact that I already had two of them, made a copy of my driver's license, made me something called a "sub letter," and then told me to go out to the meat-packing district to get my fingerprints done? Huh? They can't do fingerprints at this location?
Nope. CPS Human Resources has its own building hidden among factories and butchers and auto repair places in the far west loop, nowhere remotely close to the main CPS building. That would just be too easy - CPS prides itself on its chaos. After wandering around for, oh, 30 minutes or so after getting off the train, I finally found the building. Once inside, I got to stand in line for another 30 minutes while the guy behind the desk kept yelling at everyone not to park in the parking lot. Apparently, that lot outside the building is not actually for CPS but for some other mysterious business nearby. That figures. It's street-parking for CPS employees.
So the finger-printing process was a nightmare that I won't horrify you with, but the next step was to return to HR a week later with my application pack, copy of my birth certificate, a physical and TB test, transcripts, and teaching certificate. After scrambling to get these items together over the course of a week, I presented my finished packet, which they looked over (not so easily - it took over an hour of waiting) and sent me off to the main CPS offices again to finish the process. Oh, did I mention they gave me a free "welcome to CPS" tote bag - that makes up for it all!!
At the main offices, I filled out more paperwork (what's the meaning of it all?!!) and then went downstairs across from Subway (?) to get my photo ID. Naturally, the photo ID people don't currently have any of the official IDs available so I have to get a temporary ID and wait six weeks for the real one to arrive in the mail.
I'm a sub now. I've gone through the process, and now I get the joy of waking up at 5:30 every morning that I'm available to wait for a call that may or may not come from sub services, asking me to baby-sit a bunch of teenagers. The good news - as a certified teacher, I get a buttload of money for this 6.25 hour gig, and during prep periods, I can do the lesson planning for my college classes. Woo!
Now I just have to await the crazy adventures that are sure to befall me this year, so I can continue to make you all crazy jealous in this blog. I'm excited, and I'm scared.
Let me tell you what I'm doing this fall.
Tomorrow, I start teaching adults. That's right....adults, college students, people who have chosen to take the classes that I'm teaching. What's better is that they're international students learning English. That presents a new set of challenges, but more than counteracts the sarcasm and indifference innate to high school students.
Don't worry though. I haven't escaped teenagers altogether. Until they decide to hire me full-time at this small college or until I go completely loco, I will supplement my income by substitute teaching in Chicago's lovely public school system. Ah yes...let me tell you about how exciting that is.
Substitute teaching in CPS is obviously such a privilege that only the most die-hard self-torturers can get through the application process. Let me just give you a brief rundown of what I had to do to become an official CPS sub. You'd think, already being certified as a type 09 teacher and having a master's degree and having already student taught in CPS, that all I'd have to do is fill out a little extra paperwork. You'd think wrong.
Instead, after realizing that they'd never answer their phone or e-mail, I finally physically went down to the CPS downtown headquarters to get my questions answered. Once there, they gave me an application packet despite the fact that I already had two of them, made a copy of my driver's license, made me something called a "sub letter," and then told me to go out to the meat-packing district to get my fingerprints done? Huh? They can't do fingerprints at this location?
Nope. CPS Human Resources has its own building hidden among factories and butchers and auto repair places in the far west loop, nowhere remotely close to the main CPS building. That would just be too easy - CPS prides itself on its chaos. After wandering around for, oh, 30 minutes or so after getting off the train, I finally found the building. Once inside, I got to stand in line for another 30 minutes while the guy behind the desk kept yelling at everyone not to park in the parking lot. Apparently, that lot outside the building is not actually for CPS but for some other mysterious business nearby. That figures. It's street-parking for CPS employees.
So the finger-printing process was a nightmare that I won't horrify you with, but the next step was to return to HR a week later with my application pack, copy of my birth certificate, a physical and TB test, transcripts, and teaching certificate. After scrambling to get these items together over the course of a week, I presented my finished packet, which they looked over (not so easily - it took over an hour of waiting) and sent me off to the main CPS offices again to finish the process. Oh, did I mention they gave me a free "welcome to CPS" tote bag - that makes up for it all!!
At the main offices, I filled out more paperwork (what's the meaning of it all?!!) and then went downstairs across from Subway (?) to get my photo ID. Naturally, the photo ID people don't currently have any of the official IDs available so I have to get a temporary ID and wait six weeks for the real one to arrive in the mail.
I'm a sub now. I've gone through the process, and now I get the joy of waking up at 5:30 every morning that I'm available to wait for a call that may or may not come from sub services, asking me to baby-sit a bunch of teenagers. The good news - as a certified teacher, I get a buttload of money for this 6.25 hour gig, and during prep periods, I can do the lesson planning for my college classes. Woo!
Now I just have to await the crazy adventures that are sure to befall me this year, so I can continue to make you all crazy jealous in this blog. I'm excited, and I'm scared.
Friday, June 20, 2008
I Shall Post Again
I'm in a blogging lull, and trying to get out. I'm in a teaching lull as well, so it makes sense that I haven't been inspired to write here lately. My school year's over, and my destiny for the fall still unknown. I'm sure, in short time, I'll regain my passion, and the words will flow. As for now, I'm on summer break. Sort of.
Monday, May 19, 2008
I Will Crush Your Senioritis
It's the end of a school year, and for those graduating high school seniors, the start of a bright new journey. I'm sending my senior students off into the world with the joyous, optimistic words of...Tolstoy? I didn't plan it this way, but somehow, The Death of Ivan Ilyich got pushed back to the last two weeks of class, and so now my students' last memories of senior English will be the classic story of dying and depression. If you're not familiar, Ivan Ilyich tells the painful story of a middle-aged man's thoughts as he slowly and uncomprehendingly dies of a vague illness. A group of thoughtful adults might find the short novel powerful. Perhaps a book club would choose to read it in the depths of winter after finishing a lighter read like Jane Austen. But no, I prefer the irony of exuberant youth reading it as the first blooms of the season begin to show their colors, and the world suddenly seems alive.
My guilt gets the better of me. Maybe if I hand out inspiring quotes on the last day, it'll counteract the damage, preventing them from walking away cynical old souls who know what it's like to lie sick day after day in a dark Russian home, with only a cheerful young servant to pity them. Or maybe I'm overestimating the role of literature (and myself) in their lives.
Farewell, young seniors. May your lives be more enriching than that of Ivan Ilyich.
My guilt gets the better of me. Maybe if I hand out inspiring quotes on the last day, it'll counteract the damage, preventing them from walking away cynical old souls who know what it's like to lie sick day after day in a dark Russian home, with only a cheerful young servant to pity them. Or maybe I'm overestimating the role of literature (and myself) in their lives.
Farewell, young seniors. May your lives be more enriching than that of Ivan Ilyich.
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