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.
Isn't it amazing how children can change us! So glad that you are introducing good books, like "Little House in the Big Woods" to these kids. What a blessing to them and to you.
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ReplyDeleteWho would have thought. Those stories are great and I remember when you loved those books!
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