Thoughts, Comments, Screams of Agony.

Vocabulary Teaching

kerfin — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 16:33:00 GMT

Reflecting on my development as a teacher over the course of this semester, the area of teaching where I have developed the most is in teaching vocabulary. In readings, I was challenged to think about how my students learnt vocabulary. Immediately, I thought of the Reading Booklets (reading logs) that are implemented in my school. Unlike other classes, I insist my students to choose 9 unknown words from their Daily Readers and then to look up the Chinese translation in the dictionary. I thought: does a mere 15-second translation of an English word suffice? Do students know the vocabulary word? Will they be able to use it in a sentence or (ideally) in their writing? In class, we discussed two aspects of vocabulary teaching which were pivotal in shaping the way I teach vocabulary. The first one was ‘ What types of knowledge are involved in knowing a word? ’ The answer: form, meaning and use. Challenged, I reflected on the Reading Booklets. Form: vaguely. Meaning: for about 15 seconds. Use: definitely not. I decided to implement a new spelling challenge system where students were to revise the 9 words each day and to spell them the next day. Now, of course, for a 9 year-old language learner, that can be a lot, and I did not want to burden these children with yet another thing to study. Thus, to foster intrinsic motivation to study these words, I did not require students to learn vocabulary words for the Spelling Challenges on Monday to Thursday. Students were rewarded if they received 8 or 9 marks (one mark for each correctly spelled word) for 10 days, receiving a prize or letter home that praised their work ethic in their homework diary. I only required students to study for the Friday Spelling Challenge, which was an accumulation of words learnt from Monday through Thursday. Through spelling challenges, students learnt of word form . The other two, word meaning and word use, were addressed in the second aspect of vocabulary teaching. During class, the concept of breadth and depth of vocabulary knowledge was discussed. Requiring students to copy 9 new vocabulary words a day in their Reading Booklets sufficiently covered a breadth of vocabulary words. In addition, the quality of vocabulary words learnt at breadth were usually thematic since they were from the same book and were at appropriate English levels since students read at levels according to the PLP-R programme. Now what about depth? With 9 new words acquired by 34 students each day, a total of 306 words are learned each day. How nice would it be if at least one of those words were “explicitly” defined for them? The next day, I implemented a Word of the Day system, where three students had the opportunity to share and teach the class one of their vocabulary words. After explicitly defining the words, all students chanted the Word of the Day song and voted for their class’s word. Then not only was depth achieved but also word meaning . The word was then copied into student Reading Booklet’s, followed by a very basic sentence which featured the word of the day. The part of speech was also written beside the word. All these were created in hopes that students would be able to grasp the word use. Although good in theory, I found that, after a week or two, students easily forgot the words and meanings of previous word of the days. As a result, I told students that if they studied the words of the day (revisiting vocabulary) and wrote it in their spelling challenges, they would receive double the marks for that word. Also, if students remembered the Chinese meanings of each word and wrote them in their spelling challenges, they would receive two bonus “Chinese” marks. These ensured word meaning was revisited and consolidated in students. Finally, in order to further consolidate the depth of student vocabulary learning, I created a space on the display board entitled “graffiti,” where students were required to choose one word – their favourite word – from the Reading Booklet to create a piece of graffiti on A-4 paper, with the English meaning beside it. Student graffiti pieces were featured on rotation. They were also highly encouraged to go to the display board to learn from each other. Additionally, I opened a thread on an online forum which I’d made for my students entitled “Word of the Week,” where students were asked to submit their word and meaning every weekend. Although rigorous in the amount of vocabulary learnt each day – with spelling challenges, 9 Chinese definitions, and about 5 minutes of precious lesson time devoted to the Word of the Day, it was my hope that students would not just learn new vocabulary words, but have fun learning the vocabulary words as they offered words for the word of the day and drew pictures of their favourite word in graffiti. Over the course of the past 5 or 6 weeks since implementing these systems, I have seen improved vocabulary usage in student writing, with more and more students willing to take risks to use newer and bigger words learnt. This has been across students of varying English language ability. Additionally, the Reading Booklet has become a natural resource for students to facilitate writing as I often see them take out their Reading Booklets in both Process Writing and General English lessons. These results have been so encouraging and have made all the heart and hard work invested worth it. I am excited to see what the next term has in store for the ever-evolving vocabulary teacher inside me!

Just let them draw...

kerfin — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 03:29:00 GMT

This morning I had a refreshing fourth-grade lesson. After teaching in the Hong Kong local education system for a year, you realize the curriculum is tight and there is a lot of learning that needs to take place (whether the learners decide to keep up or not). Grammar structure upon grammar structure, compounded with vocabulary words, phrases, text types and reading/writing/speaking/listening skills... oh, the life of a 7 year-old ESL kid in Asia. This morning was a reading lesson. Students went through an interesting story about some kids who went on a school trip to a museum, and then completed a cloze passage to create their own story -- almost like madlibs, but planned. The objectives of the lesson had been taught. Kids understood the characters, setting and plot. Check. Kids comprehended a parallal text and inserted their own stories. Check. Now, with the reading teacher gone, it was time for my 'general English' lesson, where the pressures of teaching quantifiers, personal pronouns, adverbs of frequency and comparatives/superlatives were on my shoulders. They're being tested on these structures in two weeks and I have't even introduced the concepts to them... how are they supposed to grasp them? About to change their focus, I reflected on the reading lesson. Students had taken turns to share with their peers about how on their museum outing, they'd flown to the museum by UFO or ridden the last dinosaur around the displays. The kids laughed. It was great. These English Language Learners were reading and listening to stories they'd written, and found humor in the content. Both the author and the audience are affirmed in purpose. I didn't want to just put that to waste. Screw it . I whipped out some A3 paper and asked students to draw a comic strip about their newly designed story. In pairs, they discussed their ideas to create a new plot. And just like that, every student was engaged. Every kid had their pencil (or colour pencils) to the paper, and they were excitedly and purposefully speaking English to create a story they had interest in. The room was inundated with imagination. They were in their element, expressing themselves in something as equally important as language: illustration. Walking around the classroom, I was assured as a teacher that, although it was not a lesson teaching adverbs of frequency or vocabulary words related to the unit, this lesson still solidly consolidated "English" aspects (story mapping, plot, characters, setting, dialogue/quotation marks, connectives,...) and was well-worth it. They may be one lesson behind in the piles of grammar to learn, but at least they got to draw. There may not be as many A, B or C's written on paper, but to step away from the quantitative mindset of learning, I just know they learned something in the process. About life. About working together. About English. About stories... Drawings are simple. Drawings are powerful. Every now and then, don't be afraid to just let them draw...

Only in Hong Kong

kerfin — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 03:10:00 GMT

"That's right. Then you will have a lot of water inside your mouth." "Yes, Mr. Wong. It is the saliva." [a difficult vocabulary word for a fourth grader in HK] "Oh! Matt, how do you know that word?" "My sister's name is called Saliva." what?! "Oh, do you mean Sylvia?" "No, it is Saliva." Only in Hong Kong.

Writing: Pencil to Paper

kerfin — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 08:36:00 GMT

The new school year has started. Year two. This time last year, I had no idea what I was doing. This year... while I’m still not the perfect teacher (if there even is such a thing), everything seems to fit so much better. I understand the structure, the routines and I'm ready to hit the play button so my students can push themselves to thrive in the system! But maybe I get too ambitious... maybe I get so into everything I want to do with the kids that I forget to take a step back to see how they're doing - to really invest my time in conversations and observations to see not only their performance, but their attitudes towards learning English. Teaching is so much more than implementing lessons. A teacher is a motivator – to motivate a child to love learning and to believe in the potential he or she has. This year I am the fifth-grade writing teacher again. It's an amazing opportunity to refine the units of writing I developed last year. We began the writing unit on Wednesday. Pumped and ready for the new school year, the kids were assigned a pre-assessment, so we could see how and what to teach the kids. They were asked to write about "The Best Day of My Life." Together, we created a mindmap on the board with potential writing topics (birthdays, holidays, theme parks, school camps,...) and discussed effective writing tools to include (the Wh- questions, adjectives, dialogue, connectives,...). After the mindmapping, each child had a clear picture of what they wanted to write about and seemed surprisingly excited to get their pencils moving. Or is that just what I told myself? Circulating, I watched as students diligently wrote. Some students began writing instantaneously, others decided to answer the guiding questions to get their ideas on paper. The classroom was silent. I could see the gears in their imaginative little brains at work, reliving the best days of their lives and trying to express them in their second language on paper. "If you don’t know how to spell, don’t worry. Just draw a picture or try your best to guess. The teacher wants to see what you know and don’t know so we can help you this year!" About 20 minutes into the writing, I noticed a boy had not written anything. 'What’s wrong?’ I thought. 'Does he not understand the task?' Kneeling beside him, I asked what the best day of his life was. Now up close, I made eye contact. I could see his glistening eyes and blinking eyelashes clumped together with tears. He’d been crying. "What’s wrong? Do you feel sad?" *shake head* "Do you know what to write?" *shake head* A sudden pang of empathy sent me back to my primary school years where I saw myself, the perfectionist, struggling to start writing my Chinese compositions. Overwhelmed by the task of writing something to express all that I wanted to say, I’d always decide to not say anything at all. Not until the teacher pushed me or gave me a sentence that I had confidence in. "If you don’t know how to do it, you need to ask the teacher. Then I can come to help you." "Let’s look at the questions." Relieved that I was not going to yell at him for not writing in the last 20 minutes, he wiped his tears and looked at me. "What was the best day of your life?" "My birthday." "Ooooh I bet it was a really fun birthday!" "Let’s write “birthday” on your paper." I then guided him through the other questions on the paper and learned more about the party – who was there, what they ate, how he’d felt, and why it was his favourite day. Three minutes later, we had all the details needed, concretely written down on paper. So maybe you can start by writing, “The best day of my life was my birthday.” "Remember, next time if you feel like you don’t know how to do something, what can you do?" "Ask the teacher." "That’s right. Because the teacher always wants to help you. But you need to ask for the help!" "Ok." And from that point on, his pencil never left the paper. He wrote until the bell rang for recess, always looking at the clock to make sure there was enough time to write. Writing can be such an overwhelming task. Writing: the task of transferring an image or story from your mind into a series of letters and words, in an attempt to capture and communicate it as vividly and perfectly as possible. What. a. task. And then to compound the situation with a child who is afraid of displeasing his or her teacher – something that I feel is often taken advantage of in Hong Kong local schools. Year two. • Teach to the students. • Set achievable tasks that they can successfully accomplish. • Break it down to varying degrees, based on their ability and how they can be pushed. • Teach them skills to approach writing – getting them to put ideas down on paper, not getting caught up in spelling,... • And most importantly, remember that these are children whose second (or third!) language is English. Give them a break!

Shining Direction

kerfin — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 00:50:00 GMT

I was sitting on the bus reading the newspaper this morning and was just suddenly struck with a deep gratitude to God for putting me where I am in Hong Kong as a teacher. It's only by God's grace that I can serve Him and do His work in this ministry, and I realize how selfish I am when I attribute successes and praises to myself in this work field. Romans 12:6 - We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. I was reading about the three form 2 students in Tin Shui Wai who were found overdosed and unconscious in a park near their school, and I remembered how passionately I want to teach in their schools, and that according to where I feel God has placed me now, I am only on a stepping stone at this school (to become equipped as a good teacher) before I go into the band 3 schools and serve there. God is so good to remind me of this so that I can humble myself for the successes he's given me which are necessary for getting to that step; things which I could selfishly praise myself for, according to this world. So I praise God for puzzling many pieces together for me, humbling me and for graciously revealing more and more of His plan to me and for showing me how He is in it (and that it's all for Him). Praise for passing my language exam (with a merit which allows me to have higher positions that can affect more change! God! God! God! Good!). Praise for getting a permanent position at this school (it gives me more credibility in the system). Praise for getting a Master's degree next year so I can learn how to teach these kids even better (and also get more credibility in the profession). He's got a plan for me. I need to follow. "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. (Matthew 5)

Football and Friendship

kerfin — Tue, 05 May 2009 13:33:00 GMT

Walking into the class, my third graders stood up for our routine good morning chant/greeting. While most of the kids clapped and cheerfully greeted each other, one boy, who is almost always enthusiastic about English class, remained listlessly seated and completely dejected. Wondering what was wrong, I asked students to get settled with their textbooks and very quickly checked in on him. He'd lost a football game. Hmmm... that seems easy enough to deal with. Just talk to the kid about having fun with sports and help him realize and accept that we win and lose when we play games; it's in the nature of sports. The purpose is fun. But wait, it was the game. The fourth graders had beaten the third graders 2-0, which lost them the opportunity to continue in the Olympic competitions at school. Ok, I can see why he'd be more sad. But no, it was even deeper. He'd lost the game. And his three teammates were well-aware. He was facing shame, insecurity in his football abilities, and feelings of disappointing himself and his team. Unfortunately, the lesson had to go on as 33 other pairs of eyes waited for the class to begin. I assured him, with as much authority as I could, that it was ok and that it probably wasn't as bad as he thought. But how is an 8 year old supposed to fathom that? (how does anybody ever really fathom that?) After the lesson, I called the four boys in the team to come out so we could talk. His teammates were actually very mature. They understood that it was just a game and that, although disappointed, people win and lose in sports and that this time, they lost. They'd have to try harder again next time. Relating it to the million tests and quizzes they have to take, I asked them to tell me what they would say to one another if they'd gotten zero marks on the test (a reminder I do before I pass out tests so students are conscious of being considerate and supportive of each other). "We should say: it's ok! Next time you can do better. Keep trying your best!" We paralleled their answers to getting zero "marks" in football... and they started to see how they could shape their perspectives on the football match. Characteristic of children who are not the most tactful with hiding their emotions, the other three players agreed, in a very matter-of-fact way, that this boy was the reason they'd lost the game, since he'd missed two prime opportunities. (kids are also unable to see how other factors could have caused them to lose, but that just makes it more cute) During the conversation, the boy seemed to revisit his feelings of failure and disappointment for his teammates. So I asked a couple of simple question to the teammates. "Do you like to play football?" yes "Did you have fun playing football today?" yes "Are you happy you played football today with your friends?" yes "Are you sad you lost the game?" hesitation. yes . "...and it's ok if you feel a little bit sad..." "but are you still happy you could play football with [point to each boy] today?" emphatic yes "I think you are good friends. I think you should tell [point to boy] that you are happy you played football with him today, because I think he still feels bad." As the boys left, I called the sad kid to come back. He was still sad. Since there really wasn't much time left, I decided to just do more of the talking instead of letting him respond. "I know you still feel sad because you think you are a bad football player. And I know you are sad because you think you made your team lose today. But J___, it's ok. When Mr. W___ was in primary school, I also played football. But I was not very good at football. My friends knew that I was not very good but they still wanted to play with me. Sometimes I missed the ball and sometimes I didn't win, but my friends still wanted to play with me because they were my friends. I felt very sad because I thought I was bad at football, but I also felt more happy because I always had my friends who wanted to play with me. I think you are like Mr. W____. Maybe you are not very good at football, but your friends still want to play with you. Do you think they like to play football with you?" "Yes," he says with his head a little bit higher, possibly excited at the fact that his experience can relate to Mr. W___'s. "And do you think they want to play with you again?" "Yes," he says confidently, since his friends had said just 2 minutes before that they did. "I agree with you. I think they are very good friends because if you are good at football or if you are bad at football they will still want to play with you! They want to play football and have fun with you because you are their friends. Do you think so?" "Yes." "Good. Now go back to your maths class." And he turned around and ran back to the classroom, positively assured and confident in his friendships.

He told me he was smart...

kerfin — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 14:12:00 GMT

I made him tell me he was smart. You don't understand. It's a three-fold situation. First, any decent human being doesn't toot their own horn very often. Second, this is Asia. The culture here would rather you pick yourself apart with a toothpick before praising yourself. And third, this is a Chinese kid speaking to his teacher. With a respect for those older than you -- not to mention your teacher -- you should not be gallavanting around and exclaiming how good you are. There was a lot of hesitation. "Are you smart? Are you clever?" I asked with surprising force. I tried to read his nine-year-old eyes. But they went through a series of thoughts that were difficult to read. "No ," he thinks at first. Every teacher has their eye on him. He's never up to any good. One minute he's pounding his metallic bottle on a little girl's hands because she accuses him wrongly of not handing in his homework; the next minute he's messing with his neighbor's ruler and snaps it in half. Today, he had done absolutely nothing in class during the 30 minutes of independent practise time I'd given. He hadn't even asked for help. A typical occurrence across all subjects. So there we sat at lunch break, with me watching him complete the classwork with ease (and a strong sense of understanding), which surprised me - yet again - of his intellectual ability. "Jack*, I asked you... are you smart?" I could almost see him change his thoughts from failed experiences at school where he was deemed lazy and incapable of completing work or tests that would indicate his smarts, to his home. As an only child, he lives with his grandparents. They cover his basic physical needs: food, hygiene, shelter, and clothes. That's about it. Outside of these necessities, his social and emotional needs are far from met. Unable to gain the affirmation or validation necessary for proper child development, this kid has slowly evolved into a rebellious child who yearns for attention from an adult -- and possibly a male adult in particular (?) -- whether the attention be positive or negative. Do you think he's ever been called smart at home? I don't think so. And yet, as I break down the task for him he thrives and completes the class work in less than 5 minutes. His command of the language is far superior to those others performing at his low test and exam standard. "Jack, I know that you are smart." "Can you see? You did this work SO easily! You know how to do it." "You can spell all the words and you can read many difficult words." Holding up one hand high, I show him just how clever he is. "You know Mark* and Lina* and Kim* and Graham*? They are also here. They are also smart." In this system governed by grades, every kid knows who is the smartest and who is the most successful. On the flip side, every kid knows who the failures are and who never passes. To make what I was saying relevant, I thought it best to use the 'bright' kids as examples. "But Jack, you are just like Mark. You are just like Lina. You are as smart as Kim. You are as smart as Graham. Do you think so?" Silence. But I know he's following along. He's probably never been compared to the 'brightest' kids in the class before -- and especially not by one of the teachers who have never seemed to believe in him. "Do you know why you are different? This is how smart you are." I say, emphasizing my hand up high. He raises his head to look. "But this is what you are doing . This is what you do." I say, resting my hand flat on the table. “What you do is listening in class. What you do is doing your homework. What you do is play with your friends. What you do is try your best. These are all so so so important to do, and sometimes, you DO them! But you are different because you do not know when you should do these things." "Playing with friends is OK. You do this well. Listening in class is good. Sometimes, yes, you do listen... and sometimes, yes, you do try your best, like when you [insert concrete example here]. But you do not do them at the correct time." And then reality. "Now you are in P.4. You are very smart but you do not do what you should at the right time. If you do not try your best and do not do what you should do, then next year when you are in P.5, your smarts will go down a little bit ," I say while lowering my hand just a little bit. "The next year, if you do not do what you should, try your best in class or play with your friends nicely, then your smarts will go down more." "If you do this you can see you will not be the smartest Jack possible, you will only be the normal Jack. But if you look at Mark or Lina or Kim or Graham, they will become more and more smart, because they listen to the teacher and try to learn and try their best. What they do is high." You would think all of this would be overwhelming for a 9 year old, let alone a 9 year old listening to all of this in his broken second language. But I am confident that we were on the same wavelength. He was following me and my desire for him to realize and take ownership of his life was really coming through. I could see it in him. "Do you want to be like this? Do you want your smarts to go down down down down down?" "No, Mr. Wong." "Do you want your smarts to go up up up?" "Yes!" "Do you think you are smart now?" He nods in acknowledgement. " Yes ," he says and looks directly at me. "I think you are smart, too. I think you are very smart. But I think you need to change what you do ." "Do you want to change what you do so that you can be smart smart smart?" "Yes." "Good. I want you to be smart, too. I want you to be the smartest Jack possible." His spirits are lifted. Although a hint of doubt lingers in his eyes and heavy cheeks. "I want you to go home and finish this work for me. Bring it to me tomorrow and show me that you can do the right thing. OK?" I give my hand to him and he shakes it. I know this one conversation will not change him, although hopefully it will water the seed of motivation that has been planted and that is slowly growing. It will take a lot of following up and a lot of self-reflection. He may even need a teacher he trusts. And it may not do him any good at all. We will have to see how it pans out. But taking a step back, I look and realize that this kid is exactly the kid that I want to teach. It's surprising how young a person can be when they begin to take control of their lives. It's absolutely terrifying how big your role can be when they begin to take control of their lives.

Community and Appreciation

kerfin — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 12:25:00 GMT

Here are a couple of things I've learnt about myself these past five months as a local primary school teacher in Hong Kong. One thing that I love about school is my trip to school. I love the idea of going to work like everybody else. It makes me feel part of the community. There’s something about it that really brings me comfort. I wake up at 6:10 (but really 6:25) and catch the first ferry to Wanchai at 6:56. Living life. I see the two international primary school kids, the put-together business woman with her hair in a bun, the mushroom-haired older lady who works somewhere in Central Plaza (where our paths usually part), the antsy man who is first off the boat and whose hair could use a licking or two, the old man who collects everybody's newspapers from the passengers who are done reading it (they hand them to him), the quiet and timid secondary school kid in his green uniform, and so many other characters who bring routine and familiarity day-in, day-out. Walking the 752 steps to the bus stop, I pass a friendly woman who greets me and passes the free newspaper to me, which I read on the bus to be 'good at life'. Then, I get off the bus in a totally different world. One distinct from any I’ve lived in and yet possibly the most comfortable. Getting off the bus, I walk past a butcher with two freshly slaughtered pigs lying on the floor covered with a dainty piece of cloth. I avoid looking or I (hypocritically) will not want to eat my morning sausage or pork floss bun at the corner bake ry ( 鍾意麵包 ) . I walk past a line that extends six or seven shops long of senior early-bird citizens, queuing for the free newspaper. Then, slipping in and out of the bakery, I stand at the traffic light and wait for the man to turn green. It might sound boring, but it's just one thing that makes me happy. Working in a neighbourhood school where there is a small, bustling community of people doing 'life' around me. I love waiting for the green man and looking in all directions, seeing parents bringing children to school; second-graders with bags twice the size of their bodies walking themselves to school; buses pouring with students from neighbouring districts; the elderly confidently doing stretches in the middle of sidewalks; morning newspapers being hauled and distributed to stores; baskets full of fresh fruits and vegetables… Just life existing in a local community. I've learned to really appreciate it... and feel right in my role as a teacher coming to teach these children in this community. One thing I also notice about being in this community is that the people who surround me do actual "life" jobs as well. Not only did a number of my co-workers equally aspire to become teachers and educators, but the people they are related to, dating, come across on a day-to-day basis also do real "life" jobs as well... which is just so different from what I've been brought up in. One of the resource teachers wants to become a policeman. There are firemen, cleaners, taxi drivers, civil servants... those people that you dream of becoming when you are a little kid. While there's nothing wrong with the GRE, LSAT, MCAT, IFAT that I've been immersed in, it's just so refreshing, I guess, to be working with people who want to do life and become a member of this system with me. I don't feel the same need to prove my self. I can be a teacher now. And what has inspired me to write this reflection is the lunch I had today. After taking part of a standardized language benchmark exam – one of the million hoops I need to jump through to become an English teacher – I sat down with a friend to eat lunch. Sitting at the table, I glanced over to see one of my fourth graders happily eating with his mom. Smiling at me and greeting me with “Good afternoon , Mr. Wong,” we ha d a short conversation and went back to eating . Ten minutes pass ed and his family l eft . On their way out they stop ped by my table, thank ed me for teaching their son and promptly took my bill and insist ed on paying for it. It’s so strange to receive such gratitude from an almost complete stranger. It’s strange because while she is so grateful for what I do, I am equally honored and excited at the opportunity to teach her son in this local primary school in this neighborhood community. With these kids I am constantly getting insight into how life is a continuous process , as I want to be a part of their development and affect the way they think and act for the rest of their lives. I want to see their lives unfurl . Similarly, I am learning not to look at my own life or their lives in small time frames of primary, middle, high school, college, post-college , and so on … it’s all woven together. Life is continuous and you never stop learning. And now, this event has shown me how I become a moment in time in these children's lives. I guess the impact I have on the students I teach and the families I become a part of is much greater than I realize… and it all just really confirms my desire to teach . It's where I'm meant to be and what I want to become better at. After lunch and another round of exams, I went to one of my third graders’ 9 th birthday party. In a purple leotard she danced with her modern dancing group, before changing into her beautiful, white party dress with her hair gelled back and sprinkled with glitter. Again, moments in life that I am apart of. I see grateful parents. I play with the spontaneously quirky kids. I become a part of their lives. I become a part of their community. The community appreciates me and I appreciate my community.

Gift of 20 Seconds

kerfin — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 17:37:00 GMT

"Mum, I don't know if he will like this one or this one." "Mum, I think he will like the black and white one." "Do you have your money ready?" "Yes." I shove my hands deep into my pockets to take out my small crumpled bills and coins to buy the mug. *** I wonder if he liked it. It's after school. I see mom ready to pick me up, but I really wonder if he liked it . Let's stay back for a bit. I walk to Mr. Wong and stand right beside him, with my arm against his leg ad my head up to his waist. Mr. Wong puts his hand on my shoulder. "Hello, An____, do you see your mum?" But I just look up at Mr. Wong. I don't smile and make eye contact with him. "Did you like the cup?" I say, making sure to make the intonation of my sentence sound like a question. Mr. Wong smiles and bends down and looks at me. "Oh, I loved the cup, An___. It is such a beautiful cup. Thank you very much!" Good. I squint my eyes to affirm my happiness. "I bought it with my money." "Wow, you did? Thank you very much. I use it every day to drink water. You should see it on my desk! I love it a lot." And then he stares at me. This sweet, little kid who saved up money to buy me a mug. He doesn't smile, but has a look of contentment on his face. And as he pauses, looks up at me and smiles - for an unnatural duration of about 20 seconds - I feel the complex emotion of gratitude illuminating from him, an 8 year old. It's not just a pretty gift that he gives to Mr. Wong on his birthday. It's the act of giving something back to his teacher whom he respects and appreciates. How awesome to make such an impact on a kid that he would learn the lesson of giving. I am blown away by how certain I am of his gratitude before he tilts his head up higher, smiles from ear to ear, and runs off to his mom to go home.

The Discipline of Hope

kerfin — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 16:54:00 GMT

We also read from school textbooks, and the students did a great deal of peer teaching. I had them take responsibility for each other's learning and even caught a few of them studying vocabulary in the hall when no one was looking. Ours was a fugitive class of sorts. The students didn't want any visitors, and we were all very evasive about the substance of the class. Pride and self-respect are so tied up in knowing how to read that the students didn't want their efforts at becoming literate to be a subject of public discussion. I'm not sure why the kids showed up, but I was passionate about their learning and maybe that was infectious. My basic operating principles for the class were these: keep it adult; remediate nothing; repeat no prior school failure; and always remember that these people are learning to read for the first time. Earlier failure is irrelevant. Recently Rich Coleman, a student from the poor Black communitiy who did well academically and was involved in almost all of the school's activities, came to visit me in Point Arena. He told me that everyone at the school had wondered what the secret of our group was. My status at the school was enhanced because the reading students left my class determined to learn; this astonished the other students, who had antcipated chaos from such a volatile mix. It never occurred to me that the mix was a problem, and to this day I don't know what the cement was or why the "problem students" stayed to learn. My feeling is that there is a love of learning, however hidden, in everyone, and that a teacher who has respect, a sense of humor, well-crafted material, and a passion for the students' learning can free that love. Herbert Kohl, The Discipline of Hope (1998)

Reading Power

kerfin — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 18:11:00 GMT

One thing about teaching class sizes of 34 and 35 is that no matter what, you will not be able to give any of the kids the attention they need. You can choose favourites and shower them, or choose a couple that lag behind and support them, or you can focus on the middle group to ensure they pass the tests.... but either way, it's just been too hard to give them all what they need. Today after school, however, I was able to feel good about myself as a teacher. I was in the library returning a book that I'd just finished reading to a large class of 6th graders - one quarter of whom were not listening - when I saw two of my fourth graders doing homework at the tables. One of them asked me to come over to look at her drawings. They were cute. Then I thought that this would be a perfect time to read a story to these two kids. After all, we were in the library. Picking the book "I Wish I Had Duck Feet," I began to read (and simplify) to these two kids. Eventually another two joined. I got to ask many questions throughout the story to ensure they could string the plot together. Factual questions, interpretation questions, preference questions,... It was really great to read a story to these kids, because there was no pressure to finish homework for the weekend, no pressure to teach from the curriculum, no obligation (on either part) to read the book... it was just good because it was a teacher reading a story to two kids, inviting them into the world of imagination and letting them have positive experiences with English stories. And they liked it. :) [Note to self: Read more to kids during recesses and free lunch breaks. It's worth it.]

A Quote or Two to Remember

kerfin — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 15:10:00 GMT

After explaining the homework for the day, I ask students if they have any questions. (since it is a new type of assignment where they have to check their school emails) One boy raises his hand and voice a concern. [note: children have almost no sense of the fact you are addressing an entire class and often indulge in a one-on-one conversation when given the opportunity to speak to you] "I cannot can check my email..." "Why not?" "When I go home, there have many things to do. I go home. And then after I eat my snack and then I have to start my homework and then I have to....." Haha. I couldn't help but smile when he told me about his snack. In fourth grade, I got angry at a boy who was messing around and kept him back to talk during break time. After talking for 5-8 minutes about a solution, I started walking out when one girl said to me, "Mr. Wong, you are very good!" "Why do you say that?" "Because you stay to help we" "What do you mean?" "You stay after the class to talk to we long time." "Well, you're a very good student, too!" It's so wonderful to watch students develop, as they begin to think for themselves and see the world around them -- slowly understanding roles, actions, intentions,... and the next step? To watch and want to do it themselves.

Life Lesson in Two Minutes

kerfin — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 05:32:00 GMT

Today we had to throw away the green beans we've been growing for the past 2 weeks. Most of the kids were really attached to the plants, as they watched each of their plants shoot up (or wither) in their respective plastic glove fingers. Lunchtime today was measuring time. Sizing up all the tallest shoots, first, second and third place were crowned. The next logical step was to throw away the plants who would undoubtedly wilt and die in the next couple of days. One girl looked at me with a sad expression on her face. Her plant had come 6th. "Are you sad to throw your plant away?" "Yes!" ... another one of those moments in teaching where you have a split second to decide what to do. "Well, I know you are sad but the plant already grew to the biggest that it can be! It will die now because it doesn't live long." Sad. "Say bye bye and I love you to the plant!" "BYE BYE! I LOVE YOU!" ...and off to the garbage bin she goes... still a little hestitant, but with a sense of closure. All the other kids chimed in "good bye I love you" to their plants as they went into the bin.

Just a Little Push

kerfin — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 05:13:00 GMT

In elementary school, I think it's easier to see the impact you make/are making on some kids. One kid in the back of the 34-person classroom, An, always just passes his tests and doesn't always do his homework (two of the biggest ways teachers determine how good a student is here). Talking to his teachers from last year, he did not seem to leave the most positive impact on them. After talkin to An, though, I could just hear so much potential in him - as I'm sure most idealist teachers do when they meet their students for the first time. As a result, and almost in retaliation of his previous teachers, I decided to train him (and 4 others) for the upcoming, inter-primary school speech festival competition. A very big deal here. He has made so much progress. At first he was overwhelmed by the number of words to memorize, and was not very motivated to do so, but in time, this memorized poem very clearly became something he prided himself in. At recess, he's always asking if he needs to come to the staff room to recite the poem for me... and additionally, he seems to enjoy and put a lot more effort into his English class now. It's a positive experience for him. Outside of English, he's shouting "have a nice day!" from across the hall and playfully leaning on me when I'm bent down talking to others. It's really nice to see the impact I make on kids every now and then. Kids are so obvious.

window

kerfin — Mon, 27 Oct 2008 15:07:00 GMT

you know that scene in the disney version of "a christmas carol" where mickey, minnie and their kids crowd around the dinner table in preparation for a christmas feast? and bitter, old uncle scrooge mcduck peeps into the window to see their happy faces? for now, i want to be scrooge mcduck. i want to look into the homes of my students to see what they eat for dinner, what they do at home... what they talk about at the dinner table. do they laugh? are they loved as much as they should be? there's something christmas-y about the feelings i have for these kids. not confused with a friendship, as some unfortunately do, but as a mentor or figure of change or stability? i don't know... i just wish i could zoom into their lives to see what it's like at home. the dynamic. the nurture. their identities at home. oh, how different my perceptions of these kids would be.