American Mascot
- Paul made the teacher blush
- John Phillipe made the teacher cry
- 20 French teenagers put Paul in the hot seat
Yesterday I went back to school. Only this times things were different. One, the class was in Strasbourg. Two, the class was English. And three, I was the teacher. Ok...I wasn't actually the teacher, but I got to be the teacher for the day. Let me explain. Valerie is an improv student with Inedite theatre (the improv company I am working with in Strasbourg). She is also an English teacher at an Elementary/High school (The French school system is different than the American school system). Valerie invited me to attend her classes so the kids could see a real live American -- Paul the American Mascot.
Valerie teaches 3 different classes: The small ones 10-11, the medium ones 12-13, and the big ones 14-15. I first visited the small kids class. I walked into the room and waited for Valerie who was making photocopies. The kids were all standing in front of their chairs waiting for something to happen. They were starring at me. Not a single peep was heard from any of them. They all looked very shy and nervous about the American Mascot which stood before them. I must have looked very uncomfortable and nervous as well. They appeared to be waiting for someone with authority to give them permission to sit down. Was this my job? Was I supposed to say sit down? I didn't know what to do. Luckily Valerie come into the room told them to sit down. And so began the class. They were told to introduce themselves (in English) and tell me their age, and a sentence about their family. This went very well. They did a remarkable job. Although many of them, when telling me how many brothers/sisters they had would say, "I am two Brothers." This happened often. And Valerie was quick to correct them, while all I could do was smile. The last person to introduce himself was John Phillipe. A boy in a wheel chair, who after telling me his name and age, told the teacher he wanted to tell me why he was in wheel chair. And asked if she would translate it to me in English. She agreed. He said, "I have been in a wheel chair all my life. I am so grateful to have so many wonderful friends who can walk. My friends are ... " I didn't really hear the rest of the translation because at this point Madame Hene (Valerie's professional name) was crying. As was the young girl sitting behind John Phillipe. It was quite lovely. And later Valerie informed me that this was the first time John Phillipe had ever said anything regarding his handicap. Wow. That is all could say. The class continued well, and didn't involve any more emotional outbursts. I answered all of their questions, "Where do I work?" "Do I have any pets" "Have I ever been to Hollywood?" And once they had no more questions I taught them a song which they all enjoyed very much. A good start to my day back at school!
Then I meet the 12 - 13 year olds. This was a different sort of bunch. The same drill as previous except this time the questions were more teenage-like. You know, "Do I have a girlfriend?" "Do I have a boyfriend?" "Do I know the Supersonics?" And then it happened....they asked a question which at first seemed very simple to answer, but turned out to cause a big problem. "How do I know their teacher?" They asked. This was easy to answer. Certainly wasn't going to cause any problems. "I know Valerie because she is studying improv with Inidiet Theater...." I didn't finish my sentence. I noticed the students reacting to my brief response. I quickly looked at Valerie to see why I sensed such a strong reaction to what I had said, when I noticed her face was completely red. Ashamed, embarrassed...I did something horrible wrong and I had no idea what I had done. And then Valerie said, "well....now they know my name." Oh my god. I had spoiled some sacred teacher student relationship. Some sort of secret that French students should never know -- the first name of their teacher. Did I rip apart Madame Hene's teaching career forever. What sort of doomed portal did I open? Will the kids now have complete power of Madam Hene she will never again have control of the students. They will rebel against her lessons, never do their homework. And eventually they will combine their fierce adolescent behavior like a Lord of the Flyís tribe and torture Madame Hene. Luckily a student in the back shouted in French, "We already knew it anyway!!" Although it did not fix the fact that I blurted out the sacred name in front of her most difficult class, it did relieve the pressure in the room. And slowly I grabbed hold of the reigns again and spent the last part of the class talking to them about their favorite subjects, teaching them video game and basketball English vocabulary. When the class was over and they started to leave I asked myself "Are the going to remember any of the words I taught them?" Maybe not...but I bet they won't forget the first name of Madam Hene. That information is like gold.
And last but not least I meet the 14-15 year olds. Now I had a good understanding of the French teacher/student rules: Let them be told to sit down and don't tell them Madame Hene's first name. I was ready. The kids in this class appeared to speak the best English. They all introduced themselves to me and wanted me to introduce myself to them in French. Which I can proudly say I did quite well, meaning they didn't laugh too much. They had all prepared some questions, as they were assigned by Madame Hene. However these questions caught me off guard. I was prepared for sex and American pop culture questions but I did not anticipate the kind of questions I was asked. The first one was "Do I like George Bush?" which was followed up by "Do I think we should have gone to war?" And then "Do Americans have negative feelings towards the French?" and the questions continued, "Will Bush get elected again?" "How many Americans support the war?" etc. I am glad they asked these questions. And I was more then willing to give them my thoughts to the best of my ability based on the little information I did in fact know. And they did comprehend most of it. And once all the questions had been answered I taught them an English improv exercise which proved to be highly successful.
The day was incredible. I had a joy teaching, talking, and playing with the kids. Madame Hene (a.k.a Valerie) was very pleased with how receptive her students were to me. I got a message this morning from her, "They loved having you here Yesterday. They want you to come back." Maybe I will come back. Maybe I will pursue the possibilities of teaching English in France. And maybe, just maybe, I will be able to keep my first name a secret,