Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Life with Third Standard
We lost our "third standard" (third grade) teacher just a few months after the beginning of the school year. It had taken me months to find someone of her caliber and English skills. Her parents coerced her into an arranged marriage, her career was over, and that was that. I scampered around in search of a replacement, but never found anyone whom I felt was qualified.
That's one of our dilemmas in our gorgeous but out-of-reach location.
With no other options, I became the third standard English teacher. I'll admit that it was a bit rocky at first, and that I often thought of them as the bane of my existence. It usually felt like I was holding them on the edge of a cliff, with the merest distraction capable of sending us all down the precipice--them into anarchy and me into a nervous breakdown.
Meanwhile, we're all the better for our year together. Their conversational English skills have skyrocketed, and I have been transformed and humbled by their gentle souls.
I recently decided that their English listening skills had progressed enough to warrant a read-aloud story time. On a whim, I grabbed a book that had been my own favorite (by which I mean that it was scarcely possible for an eight-year-old to embrace a book more heartily or to read it more times than I did): Little House in the Big Woods.
Let's just say that the kids' response has been gratifying. Their eyes light up, they sit spellbound on the edge of their seats (which never, ever happens), they beg me to keep reading, they beg me to let them take the book home overnight.
We've also been studying grammar.
Yesterday we had a new American family volunteering at the school. We invited their elementary-school-aged children to visit our third standard class. I asked the students whether anyone had a question for our visitors, expecting someone to ask their names or whether they liked India.
No.
This was the first question: "What is a noun?" They wanted to quiz them! And the second question: "What is an adjective?"
Needless to say, I was proud of my little grammarians.
That's one of our dilemmas in our gorgeous but out-of-reach location.
With no other options, I became the third standard English teacher. I'll admit that it was a bit rocky at first, and that I often thought of them as the bane of my existence. It usually felt like I was holding them on the edge of a cliff, with the merest distraction capable of sending us all down the precipice--them into anarchy and me into a nervous breakdown.
Meanwhile, we're all the better for our year together. Their conversational English skills have skyrocketed, and I have been transformed and humbled by their gentle souls.
I recently decided that their English listening skills had progressed enough to warrant a read-aloud story time. On a whim, I grabbed a book that had been my own favorite (by which I mean that it was scarcely possible for an eight-year-old to embrace a book more heartily or to read it more times than I did): Little House in the Big Woods.
Let's just say that the kids' response has been gratifying. Their eyes light up, they sit spellbound on the edge of their seats (which never, ever happens), they beg me to keep reading, they beg me to let them take the book home overnight.
We've also been studying grammar.
Yesterday we had a new American family volunteering at the school. We invited their elementary-school-aged children to visit our third standard class. I asked the students whether anyone had a question for our visitors, expecting someone to ask their names or whether they liked India.
No.
This was the first question: "What is a noun?" They wanted to quiz them! And the second question: "What is an adjective?"
Needless to say, I was proud of my little grammarians.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Thanks for the pictures, Audrey!
Audrey, who was a volunteer at Rising Star last year, found a few old pictures and sent them my way. Thank you! I can't believe how much the kids have grown since these pictures were taken.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Kids tutoring kids
This week brought a great surprise: a friend from my teenager days in Switzerland showed up, with husband plus six children in tow! Some of my readers will remember Allyson Hilbig! It's a small world, to say the least.
We must have spent most of our time, way back then, laughing hysterically. Because that's what I want to do whenever I glance in her direction.
The memories are endless, and include paying David to swim across a swampy and freezing mountain lake, my being coerced into a motion-sickness-inducing amusement park ride in Zurich that left me ill for 12 hours, racing down the world's longest alpine slide track after making a pact to never pull on the breaks even if we risked flipping off the ramp, and enduring a church girl's camp which in Europe is tantamount to a week of forced labor. Or so we thought (it actually involved milking goats and raking hay on a steep mountainside).
Allyson's family promptly spent their first two days tutoring at the school. I was moved by how helpful and kind her children all were. I imagine that helping other kids to read for five hours on end can be a little tedious! Yet none of them were anything but patient and gracious. Our students, in turn, fought over whose turn it was be tutored by the new Americans.
Here's Olivia, age ten, helping Vannamalar who's only a year or two younger. Unfortunately I don't have a shot of Tyler, age eight, who spent several consecutive hours reading with second-graders like himself (will try hard to snag one tomorrow)!
We must have spent most of our time, way back then, laughing hysterically. Because that's what I want to do whenever I glance in her direction.
The memories are endless, and include paying David to swim across a swampy and freezing mountain lake, my being coerced into a motion-sickness-inducing amusement park ride in Zurich that left me ill for 12 hours, racing down the world's longest alpine slide track after making a pact to never pull on the breaks even if we risked flipping off the ramp, and enduring a church girl's camp which in Europe is tantamount to a week of forced labor. Or so we thought (it actually involved milking goats and raking hay on a steep mountainside).
Allyson's family promptly spent their first two days tutoring at the school. I was moved by how helpful and kind her children all were. I imagine that helping other kids to read for five hours on end can be a little tedious! Yet none of them were anything but patient and gracious. Our students, in turn, fought over whose turn it was be tutored by the new Americans.
Here's Olivia, age ten, helping Vannamalar who's only a year or two younger. Unfortunately I don't have a shot of Tyler, age eight, who spent several consecutive hours reading with second-graders like himself (will try hard to snag one tomorrow)!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Return to the fold
Sometimes, manna falls from the sky. Our dear Saranraj returned to us today after being gone for about eight months. He was one of the original children who had joined Rising Star at its inception several years ago. Volunteers and directors alike had been devastated to lose him. Losing beloved children has been the saddest aspect of this work.
It was a small miracle that I happened to be at the right place at the right time this evening. I was there when the bus brought him back to campus. He stepped off, shoeless, with nothing but the clothes he was wearing.
It was a small miracle that I happened to be at the right place at the right time this evening. I was there when the bus brought him back to campus. He stepped off, shoeless, with nothing but the clothes he was wearing.
I hope to never forget the reception the children and housemothers gave to Saranraj when they first saw him in the dining hall. It was a sacred moment, and I am grateful to have been a part of it (and to have had my camera at the ready!). It is beautiful and transforming to know that children can be so kind to each other. This does wonders for my Weltanschauung.
Ashok has his pal back.
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