He Can Be Taught!
I am taking an unusual class this semester. It is called Geography 303: World Regions. Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, isn’t geography something you do in elementary school? Well let me tell you, just because we color in maps of the United States doesn’t make it…okay I see your point. So far it has been ridiculously easy. But there are some distinguishing characteristics that make it a reputable college class. Specifically, it has a service learning component.
There were several options for our required 15 hours of volunteer work. I could’ve helped clean up the area around Reedy Creek. However, the amount of work involved sounded much greater than how much I actually care about the environment. So instead I chose ESL tutoring. ESL, of course, stands for “Easy Service Learning”. It also happens to stands for “English as a Second Language”, which I guess makes sense considering this is a geography course.
The teacher I am working under is Mrs. Whipple at Thomas Jefferson High School. She was very nice when I first contacted her over the phone, but she seemed somehow distracted. As we were working out a time to meet, she would occasionally shout things like, “Sit down, I’m trying to talk with somebody!” and “Don’t touch that!” or “Could you please settle down for more than five seconds!?!”
So I can’t possibly imagine why, but I was feeling a little uneasy on my first day of tutoring. I have to say that Mrs. Whipple is likely the most defeated lady I have ever met. I mean, it was only the second week of classes, and she looked about ready to crawl under her desk and quietly whimper, in the fetal position, until the day was over. Now granted, her students are a little…rambunctious. But really, they aren’t too terrible. I mean first of all, she only has five or six students at a time. And a couple of them generally do what they are supposed to do. Sure, they aren’t too keen about staying in their seats, and there are a few students who just don’t want to pay attention. It’s kind of like they have a substitute teacher, except it’s every day.
I have been working mainly with two students. The first is a 16-year-old from Yemen with the rather unfortunate name of Saddam. Unlike the condemned former Iraqi dictator, this Saddam is a very nice kid. He knows a fair amount of English, despite the fact that he only started learning it a few months ago. He really loves to learn, and lately has been trying to teach me some words in his language.
And then there is Tito, a 15-year-old from Mexico. Not who I would consider to be a bad kid. He certainly isn’t surly or anything. Not being able to speak a word of English might have something to do with that though. He’s basically the class clown. But in a way I think he has to be, if you get my meaning. It’s a defense mechanism for him. Here he is, in a strange country, and unable to understand most of what is going on at school. I have noticed that he is often teased by his fellow classmates, because they think he is stupid. I do not think that at all, but he is definitely behind.
A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to teach Tito to speak in a complete sentence. He was able to say simple English sentences like, “I am in the kitchen,” based on cues from the workbook. Then Saddam came up behind me and said, “He doesn’t understand.” He was right. Tito simply memorized what he was supposed to say. I tried to explain what I wanted him to do. “Un sustantivo y un verbo es una sentencía,” I told him. A noun and a verb is a sentence. He was not getting it all, and I tried to explain it to him again by writing it down. He would just nervously laugh and shake his head. He then wrote something that made it all clear: “Qué es sustantivo?” What is a noun? He had no idea what a noun was, or a verb. And I, with my limited knowledge of the Spanish language, did not know how to explain it to him.
This Friday will fulfill my 15 hours. Yet, I am considering sticking around a little longer. Mrs. Whipple is so extravagantly happy for my help and moral support, I feel kind of guilty leaving. I also really want to help Tito. I just keep thinking he has an amazing opportunity for success now that he is here. It would be a shame if he is unable or unwilling to take advantage of it.
So some day, in the distant future, when you all have kids and you as a loving parent start complaining about the public school system, stop for a moment and ask your child what a sentence is.
There were several options for our required 15 hours of volunteer work. I could’ve helped clean up the area around Reedy Creek. However, the amount of work involved sounded much greater than how much I actually care about the environment. So instead I chose ESL tutoring. ESL, of course, stands for “Easy Service Learning”. It also happens to stands for “English as a Second Language”, which I guess makes sense considering this is a geography course.
The teacher I am working under is Mrs. Whipple at Thomas Jefferson High School. She was very nice when I first contacted her over the phone, but she seemed somehow distracted. As we were working out a time to meet, she would occasionally shout things like, “Sit down, I’m trying to talk with somebody!” and “Don’t touch that!” or “Could you please settle down for more than five seconds!?!”
So I can’t possibly imagine why, but I was feeling a little uneasy on my first day of tutoring. I have to say that Mrs. Whipple is likely the most defeated lady I have ever met. I mean, it was only the second week of classes, and she looked about ready to crawl under her desk and quietly whimper, in the fetal position, until the day was over. Now granted, her students are a little…rambunctious. But really, they aren’t too terrible. I mean first of all, she only has five or six students at a time. And a couple of them generally do what they are supposed to do. Sure, they aren’t too keen about staying in their seats, and there are a few students who just don’t want to pay attention. It’s kind of like they have a substitute teacher, except it’s every day.
I have been working mainly with two students. The first is a 16-year-old from Yemen with the rather unfortunate name of Saddam. Unlike the condemned former Iraqi dictator, this Saddam is a very nice kid. He knows a fair amount of English, despite the fact that he only started learning it a few months ago. He really loves to learn, and lately has been trying to teach me some words in his language.
And then there is Tito, a 15-year-old from Mexico. Not who I would consider to be a bad kid. He certainly isn’t surly or anything. Not being able to speak a word of English might have something to do with that though. He’s basically the class clown. But in a way I think he has to be, if you get my meaning. It’s a defense mechanism for him. Here he is, in a strange country, and unable to understand most of what is going on at school. I have noticed that he is often teased by his fellow classmates, because they think he is stupid. I do not think that at all, but he is definitely behind.
A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to teach Tito to speak in a complete sentence. He was able to say simple English sentences like, “I am in the kitchen,” based on cues from the workbook. Then Saddam came up behind me and said, “He doesn’t understand.” He was right. Tito simply memorized what he was supposed to say. I tried to explain what I wanted him to do. “Un sustantivo y un verbo es una sentencía,” I told him. A noun and a verb is a sentence. He was not getting it all, and I tried to explain it to him again by writing it down. He would just nervously laugh and shake his head. He then wrote something that made it all clear: “Qué es sustantivo?” What is a noun? He had no idea what a noun was, or a verb. And I, with my limited knowledge of the Spanish language, did not know how to explain it to him.
This Friday will fulfill my 15 hours. Yet, I am considering sticking around a little longer. Mrs. Whipple is so extravagantly happy for my help and moral support, I feel kind of guilty leaving. I also really want to help Tito. I just keep thinking he has an amazing opportunity for success now that he is here. It would be a shame if he is unable or unwilling to take advantage of it.
So some day, in the distant future, when you all have kids and you as a loving parent start complaining about the public school system, stop for a moment and ask your child what a sentence is.