"My parents taught me Mexican. I learned English from the TV."
Today was my first day of teacher aiding. I go to Conestoga School in North Omaha every Monday afternoon. It's not the best neighborhood, but it's pretty close to where I'm living. I took the bus and got there in just a few minutes.
I work with 6th graders, the oldest kids in the school. I did a lot of observing, and then helped a few of the students with math. That was my favorite part. After a few minutes I really figured out what to say to them and how to help them. They were so excited when they finally figured out how to do the problem, and I felt good too, because I helped them get there. The kids as a whole seemed to be a little bit out of control. The teacher had to constantly remind the students what they were to be doing and how they were to behave. It got on my nerves at times, but the kids were funny and entertaining at others. Finally the end of the school day came and I left with the kids. Some walked home and others took a bus.
I walked a couple blocks to the bus stop. I didn't expect the bus to be arrive for another ten minutes or so, and I considered walking about 2 miles back to campus. I decided to wait for the bus. As I waited I watched the kids walking and the cars driving by. One guy who drove by, probably twenty-something, hung his hand out the window and honked his horn looking in my direction. Simultaniously, his nephew, a student yelled from across the street.
"Uncle Reggie! Uncle Reggie! Can you give me ride?"
Uncle Reggie kept driving as if he didn't hear him and his nephew stood on the curb watching the car drive away. Uncle Reggie pulled his car into a gravel lot about a block away and turned around. As he neared me, he slowed down the car and began talking to me though his open window.
"Hey. What's your name?" I shook my head slightly and looked away trying to ignore him. "Come over here I want to talk to you." He sounded sincere. I replied.
"I'm good." I looked for the bus.
"I went through all that trouble to turn my car around to come talk to you and all you have to say is 'I'm good.'"
I shrugged my shoulders and he cracked a smile as his nephew and another girl, probably his neice hopped in the car. Convieniently, the bus arrived and I rushed on, not looking back. I fed my ticket to the machine, greeted the driver and found a seat. I thought of what had just happened. I felt maybe I had been too rude to him, but I was stunned that I, the girl on the street corner, took prescidence over his relatives at that moment.
Today was tiring; I want to go to bed.
I work with 6th graders, the oldest kids in the school. I did a lot of observing, and then helped a few of the students with math. That was my favorite part. After a few minutes I really figured out what to say to them and how to help them. They were so excited when they finally figured out how to do the problem, and I felt good too, because I helped them get there. The kids as a whole seemed to be a little bit out of control. The teacher had to constantly remind the students what they were to be doing and how they were to behave. It got on my nerves at times, but the kids were funny and entertaining at others. Finally the end of the school day came and I left with the kids. Some walked home and others took a bus.
I walked a couple blocks to the bus stop. I didn't expect the bus to be arrive for another ten minutes or so, and I considered walking about 2 miles back to campus. I decided to wait for the bus. As I waited I watched the kids walking and the cars driving by. One guy who drove by, probably twenty-something, hung his hand out the window and honked his horn looking in my direction. Simultaniously, his nephew, a student yelled from across the street.
"Uncle Reggie! Uncle Reggie! Can you give me ride?"
Uncle Reggie kept driving as if he didn't hear him and his nephew stood on the curb watching the car drive away. Uncle Reggie pulled his car into a gravel lot about a block away and turned around. As he neared me, he slowed down the car and began talking to me though his open window.
"Hey. What's your name?" I shook my head slightly and looked away trying to ignore him. "Come over here I want to talk to you." He sounded sincere. I replied.
"I'm good." I looked for the bus.
"I went through all that trouble to turn my car around to come talk to you and all you have to say is 'I'm good.'"
I shrugged my shoulders and he cracked a smile as his nephew and another girl, probably his neice hopped in the car. Convieniently, the bus arrived and I rushed on, not looking back. I fed my ticket to the machine, greeted the driver and found a seat. I thought of what had just happened. I felt maybe I had been too rude to him, but I was stunned that I, the girl on the street corner, took prescidence over his relatives at that moment.
Today was tiring; I want to go to bed.