I've had several moments with my kids the past week, ranging from funny to exciting, that I wanted to share.
First of all, I've realized again the value of the spelling bee practice I had when I was in middle school. I asked my fourth graders to bring in pictures of animals, since we're studying them this month. Sara brought in a picture of a bird she called a zarapito. I had no idea whatsoever what it was called in English. So I looked it up on the Internet, only to find that it is called a curlew in English. That wouldn't be funny, except that when I was in about 6th grade, I got out of a spelling bee because I spelled that word incorrectly. So when I saw it, it made me laugh. Sometimes I like to tell my fourth graders random stories. And they seem to enjoy it too. So I decided to tell them the story about the curlew. Well, when I told them, they surprised me and told me they wanted to have a spelling bee in class! So...we had a spelling bee in fourth grade last week and they seemed to love it. Who would've ever thought...maybe it will become an English class staple.
Then there was Jonatan on Friday. I'd brought in prizes for my third graders and told them that I was going to double check what all I had when I got home. If I was missing anything, I'd stop handing out tickets for good behavior until it was found (we've had difficulty with stealing at the school this year at times). At recess, I saw Shally and Jonatan talking. And then, Shally came up to me and gave me a sheet of stickers which I recognized from the prizes I'd bought the night before. "Jonatan wanted me to give you this", she explained. I called Jonatan over and told him that, though I wasn't happy with what he'd done, I was very proud of him for admitting it. We're trying to work on honesty and values in the kids at the school. It was some what of a miracle, very welcome, that Jonatan actually admitted what he'd done and made it right. It was encouraging.
And then today, I had to laugh in fourth grade. We have routines that we do every day and the kids know by this point, almost at the end of the year, what I say every day while we do these routines. Today, some of them decided that they knew them so well that they wanted to say them with me as we did them. So I had a chorus of little parrots saying what I was saying. It made me laugh, but it was also great practice for them.
So those are some of the "teacher moments" from the last week. Hope you can laugh with me as I enjoy the silly and wonderful things that my kids tend to come up with.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
He carries the lambs in His arms
A verse that I've been thinking about a lot lately is Isaiah 40:11 - "He tends his flock like a shepherd. He carries the lambs in His arms and gently leads those that have young". I've got a lot of little lambs in my care that so desperately need to know the Father-love of the Good Shepherd. One of the phrases that many of my students have learned this year is "Do you need a hug?" While I'm not God and I don't always show them His love perfectly, I do have a wonderful, God-given pair of arms that has given hundreds of hugs this year.
Many of my students come from difficult home and family situations. Those that act up in class usually have deep emotional needs that fuel the behavior. For instance, there is Jonatan, who, until the last week or so that he has been living with his grandparents, was alone from about 6 AM till he came to school, then went home to an empty house, cooked lunch for himself, and spent the afternoon alone till his dad came home from work in the evening. His parents are separated and he's had experiences he should never have had to have in his short life. Dany and Lucero are brother and sister. They also go home to an empty house, because their mom works really hard selling in the market to make ends meet so they can attend PROMESA.
And then there are the ones who are living only with one parent. Like Yuli, Ibet, Alicia and Shally. And some other ones I'm sure I don't know about.
And then there are the ones whose parents are having marriage problems. The kids don't talk about that one very much, but sometimes I know of one or another. The one breaking my heart right now is Magna. Magna is one of my fourth graders - a precious, sweet, serious girl. She struggles in English, but lately, I've noticed her improving, at least in her participation in class and her ability to understand what I'm saying and translate it. The last week or so, she's been coming to school noticeably very sad. Wednesday we had a school outing to celebrate PROMESA's fourth anniversary. I noticed she looked upset, so I asked her "Magna, are you okay?" She told me she was sad. I asked her what was wrong. "Profe (that is what the kids call their teachers here, in general)", she said, "Have you ever lived with your parents fighting all the time?" My heart broke for her as I hugged her.
And yet, in my mind, I keep coming back to this verse. He carries the lambs in His arms. God is the one taking care of these little ones and He is the one who puts His arms around them when they are scared or sad or lonely or angry. I looked the verse up in Quechua this morning. Not that I understand that much Quechua, but sometimes I find it interesting to read verses in another language or version. It brings new light to the verses. More or less, between my little understanding and a handy-dandy Quechua-Spanish dictionary, I pieced together that this verse says that God carries the little ones in his arms, on his chest. As I thought about those phrases, it struck me as such a beautiful picture of intimacy and deep love. He carries them on his chest, right on his heart. Yes, Jesus carries my little ones on His heart. Even though I can't always be there when their parents are fighting or when they're lonely or sad or angry, Jesus is there carrying them on His heart. What a beautiful picture.
I also like the last phrase of the verse - "He gently leads those that have young". Okay, so I might not be a parent, but I feel like I have young, since I regularly have 33 in my care. Sometimes it feels overwhelming. And then there's Jesus, right there, reminding me that He is gently caring for those who have young. Like me. Like those who are parents. Like all who are responsible for the upbringing of little ones. There He is, shepherding, caring, comforting, being tender with those responsible for their young.
So lately, I've really loved this verse. It's such a beautiful picture of intimacy and God's help and concern for those who are vulnerable. No matter who on this earth lets them down, I want my students to know and learn that God is always there holding them to His chest and wrapping them in His arms.
Many of my students come from difficult home and family situations. Those that act up in class usually have deep emotional needs that fuel the behavior. For instance, there is Jonatan, who, until the last week or so that he has been living with his grandparents, was alone from about 6 AM till he came to school, then went home to an empty house, cooked lunch for himself, and spent the afternoon alone till his dad came home from work in the evening. His parents are separated and he's had experiences he should never have had to have in his short life. Dany and Lucero are brother and sister. They also go home to an empty house, because their mom works really hard selling in the market to make ends meet so they can attend PROMESA.
And then there are the ones who are living only with one parent. Like Yuli, Ibet, Alicia and Shally. And some other ones I'm sure I don't know about.
And then there are the ones whose parents are having marriage problems. The kids don't talk about that one very much, but sometimes I know of one or another. The one breaking my heart right now is Magna. Magna is one of my fourth graders - a precious, sweet, serious girl. She struggles in English, but lately, I've noticed her improving, at least in her participation in class and her ability to understand what I'm saying and translate it. The last week or so, she's been coming to school noticeably very sad. Wednesday we had a school outing to celebrate PROMESA's fourth anniversary. I noticed she looked upset, so I asked her "Magna, are you okay?" She told me she was sad. I asked her what was wrong. "Profe (that is what the kids call their teachers here, in general)", she said, "Have you ever lived with your parents fighting all the time?" My heart broke for her as I hugged her.
And yet, in my mind, I keep coming back to this verse. He carries the lambs in His arms. God is the one taking care of these little ones and He is the one who puts His arms around them when they are scared or sad or lonely or angry. I looked the verse up in Quechua this morning. Not that I understand that much Quechua, but sometimes I find it interesting to read verses in another language or version. It brings new light to the verses. More or less, between my little understanding and a handy-dandy Quechua-Spanish dictionary, I pieced together that this verse says that God carries the little ones in his arms, on his chest. As I thought about those phrases, it struck me as such a beautiful picture of intimacy and deep love. He carries them on his chest, right on his heart. Yes, Jesus carries my little ones on His heart. Even though I can't always be there when their parents are fighting or when they're lonely or sad or angry, Jesus is there carrying them on His heart. What a beautiful picture.
I also like the last phrase of the verse - "He gently leads those that have young". Okay, so I might not be a parent, but I feel like I have young, since I regularly have 33 in my care. Sometimes it feels overwhelming. And then there's Jesus, right there, reminding me that He is gently caring for those who have young. Like me. Like those who are parents. Like all who are responsible for the upbringing of little ones. There He is, shepherding, caring, comforting, being tender with those responsible for their young.
So lately, I've really loved this verse. It's such a beautiful picture of intimacy and God's help and concern for those who are vulnerable. No matter who on this earth lets them down, I want my students to know and learn that God is always there holding them to His chest and wrapping them in His arms.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
A Rainy Snow Day and a Loooooong Bike Ride
Every once in a while, we have what we missionaries affectionately like to call "snow days". They are days when those who work in public transportation decide to go on strike for some reason or another (usually protesting the cost of living increases or other such things). They don't really do anything, honestly. But they keep happening anyway. Well, no one can get to school on those days, so we have off. Yesterday was a paro day, one we knew about in advance. So we decided to ride out to Lucre from San Jeronimo and back on bikes (approximately a 25 mile bike ride). Well...
We began our adventure at the bike rental place in San Jeronimo. There were 11 of us. And then the deaf-mute brother of one of the students at the school invited himself along. So there were 12. We rode out of San Jeronimo around 9, headed towards Saylla. We passed Saylla without any notable incidents and headed towards Tipon. My friend Illary and I got behind. At this point, she was on a bike too big for her, so she was going slower. So we were behind. And then I heard a noise like she was going to sneeze. And then I heard a noise like the bike crashed. So I stopped and sure enough, Illary was on the ground. She wasn't hurt, just a bit scared. So we managed to get her back on the bike, though it took some doing. And we headed into Tipon. Coming into Tipon, we saw people gathered on the street protesting who knows what. Illary was like "Oh no! What are we going to do? I'm going to have to get off my bike and how am I going to get back on?" Well, I dismounted and walked my bike through to the other side. Illary was going to use a low cement wall along the side of the road as support to climb back on her bike, but there were people sitting on it. A policeman noticed her predicament and offered to help. So she came out on the other side too and he helped her get back on her bike. To the sound of the cheers of people in Tipon, we rode off together to Oropesa. On the road between Tipon and Oropesa, as we laughed about the situation and Illary recovered her dignity, it began to rain. As we rode into Oropesa, we saw the rest of our group stopped along the side of the road at a bakery (Oropesa calls itself Peru's bread capital...and they do have really good bread). So we stopped. Rain showers in Peru usually don't last very long, so we figured we'd buy bread and wait out the rain. Which is what we did. Predictably, after about 10-15 minutes, the rain stopped and we began again. Shortly after leaving Oropesa, right after I had just told Ron (another missionary) "I really like this bike!", I began hearing a funny noise. Turns out there was glass on the road and a nice big sliver decided it was in the mood to puncture a tire. The deaf-mute brother (Joel) removed my tire, put it on his handlebars and began to ride out to Huacarpay, where we knew there was a tire place. Along came a taxi, so Illary (who was tired because now she was riding a bike that was way too small for her), flagged it down, hopped in, we put the bike in the back, and off she went to Huacarpay. The last mile or so, I rode the little bike to Huacarpay. By the time we got there, the tire was fixed and my bike was back in commission. We went from there to Lucre, where 3 of the youth from the Huacarpay Mennonite church joined us. We had a delicious meal of fresh fried trout at the house of Pastor Eloy, the pastor of the Lucre Mennonite church, who also has a fish farm.
While we were in Lucre, relaxing and enjoying our trout, it decided to rain. We decided to wait it out as long as we could. Just as we decided that we really needed to go to get back in time and started getting onto our bikes, the rain stopped. We made it back to Huacarpay without incidents and decided to split up on the way home so everyone could go at their own pace.
Coming in to Oropesa, Mari, Illary and I, who were all traveling together, met up with Shannon and Carrie. Apparently, the same patch of glass which had been the undoing of my tire earlier in the day, also decided that Shannon's tire looked pretty inviting. Luckily, there was a tire place in Oropesa as well, so she was getting her tire fixed. The 5 of us continued on to Tipon, without incident, then back to Saylla, where Shannon and Carrie went on ahead. By this time, Illary, on her wrong-size bike (too small), was exhausted. Mari was determined to get back to San Jeronimo, by hook or by crook, and I was determined to not leave Illary behind. So we became traveling buddies. By this time, it was getting dark. Between Saylla and San Jeronimo, it officially got dark and began to rain. But we were still determined. Walking for a lot of the time, waiting for Illary, and praying for protection, we arrived on the outskirts of San Jeronimo. We traded bikes one final time, Illary taking mine, which was much more her size, and me taking the little one. And so, at 7:00, we rolled into San Jeronimo and made it back to the bike rental place, exhausted and sore, but very much proud of ourselves and our accomplishment.
It was a great day, a day of learning how much determination can really do, a day of being the one determined not to leave someone behind, a day of enjoying adventures and rain and exercise and just doing something different. I'm not sure I'm necessarily ready to do another 25-mile bike ride again for a little while and I'm still tired, but it was definitely a great way to spend a "snow day". And a great sense of accomplishment.
We began our adventure at the bike rental place in San Jeronimo. There were 11 of us. And then the deaf-mute brother of one of the students at the school invited himself along. So there were 12. We rode out of San Jeronimo around 9, headed towards Saylla. We passed Saylla without any notable incidents and headed towards Tipon. My friend Illary and I got behind. At this point, she was on a bike too big for her, so she was going slower. So we were behind. And then I heard a noise like she was going to sneeze. And then I heard a noise like the bike crashed. So I stopped and sure enough, Illary was on the ground. She wasn't hurt, just a bit scared. So we managed to get her back on the bike, though it took some doing. And we headed into Tipon. Coming into Tipon, we saw people gathered on the street protesting who knows what. Illary was like "Oh no! What are we going to do? I'm going to have to get off my bike and how am I going to get back on?" Well, I dismounted and walked my bike through to the other side. Illary was going to use a low cement wall along the side of the road as support to climb back on her bike, but there were people sitting on it. A policeman noticed her predicament and offered to help. So she came out on the other side too and he helped her get back on her bike. To the sound of the cheers of people in Tipon, we rode off together to Oropesa. On the road between Tipon and Oropesa, as we laughed about the situation and Illary recovered her dignity, it began to rain. As we rode into Oropesa, we saw the rest of our group stopped along the side of the road at a bakery (Oropesa calls itself Peru's bread capital...and they do have really good bread). So we stopped. Rain showers in Peru usually don't last very long, so we figured we'd buy bread and wait out the rain. Which is what we did. Predictably, after about 10-15 minutes, the rain stopped and we began again. Shortly after leaving Oropesa, right after I had just told Ron (another missionary) "I really like this bike!", I began hearing a funny noise. Turns out there was glass on the road and a nice big sliver decided it was in the mood to puncture a tire. The deaf-mute brother (Joel) removed my tire, put it on his handlebars and began to ride out to Huacarpay, where we knew there was a tire place. Along came a taxi, so Illary (who was tired because now she was riding a bike that was way too small for her), flagged it down, hopped in, we put the bike in the back, and off she went to Huacarpay. The last mile or so, I rode the little bike to Huacarpay. By the time we got there, the tire was fixed and my bike was back in commission. We went from there to Lucre, where 3 of the youth from the Huacarpay Mennonite church joined us. We had a delicious meal of fresh fried trout at the house of Pastor Eloy, the pastor of the Lucre Mennonite church, who also has a fish farm.
While we were in Lucre, relaxing and enjoying our trout, it decided to rain. We decided to wait it out as long as we could. Just as we decided that we really needed to go to get back in time and started getting onto our bikes, the rain stopped. We made it back to Huacarpay without incidents and decided to split up on the way home so everyone could go at their own pace.
Coming in to Oropesa, Mari, Illary and I, who were all traveling together, met up with Shannon and Carrie. Apparently, the same patch of glass which had been the undoing of my tire earlier in the day, also decided that Shannon's tire looked pretty inviting. Luckily, there was a tire place in Oropesa as well, so she was getting her tire fixed. The 5 of us continued on to Tipon, without incident, then back to Saylla, where Shannon and Carrie went on ahead. By this time, Illary, on her wrong-size bike (too small), was exhausted. Mari was determined to get back to San Jeronimo, by hook or by crook, and I was determined to not leave Illary behind. So we became traveling buddies. By this time, it was getting dark. Between Saylla and San Jeronimo, it officially got dark and began to rain. But we were still determined. Walking for a lot of the time, waiting for Illary, and praying for protection, we arrived on the outskirts of San Jeronimo. We traded bikes one final time, Illary taking mine, which was much more her size, and me taking the little one. And so, at 7:00, we rolled into San Jeronimo and made it back to the bike rental place, exhausted and sore, but very much proud of ourselves and our accomplishment.
It was a great day, a day of learning how much determination can really do, a day of being the one determined not to leave someone behind, a day of enjoying adventures and rain and exercise and just doing something different. I'm not sure I'm necessarily ready to do another 25-mile bike ride again for a little while and I'm still tired, but it was definitely a great way to spend a "snow day". And a great sense of accomplishment.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Unexpectedness
I never quite know exactly what to expect when the kids come in the mornings and I start interacting with them. Who's in a good mood? Who needs a hug? Who's crying and why? What will the day be like in third grade? What are my kids going to say in class? It all changes from day to day. This week I had lots of those unexpected moments.
Tuesday and Wednesday were great days with third grade. After a frustrating last few months, it was a blessing to be able to go home at the end of the day and say "Wow, I had a great day with third grade today!". One of the most encouraging parts of that was that they behaved excellently while I read them a skit about Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego and Daniel that I am hoping to do with them, since we're studying entertainment this month. Unexpected. Wonderful. An answer to prayer. And I am reminded again that God is good and hears my cries to Him.
Thursday was my brother's birthday.
I casually happened to mention it to my fourth graders. And they got all excited and wanted to write him a letter. So we spent half of our English class time composing a letter to Ben and taking a picture of us to put with it. Looking at the pictures tonight that Marysol patiently took for me, I realized how hard it is to get 13 kids to all look at the camera at the same time with all their faces showing. (Yes, I can hear all of you parents laughing right now). Oh, and don't tell anyone how many kids we fit on a sliding board at once. I counted 8. There aren't rules about things like that here.
Thursday was also Meylin's birthday - one of my third graders. So I went to third grade during recess. We sang to her and ate a cake that her mom had brought in. It was a fun but unexpected treat which we all enjoyed.
Another funny unexpected moment this week was Elias (the only boy sitting at the top of the slide in this picture) deciding to call kangaroos "I don't understands". I off-handedly, just for fun, explained to fourth grade the other day that kangaroo, in the language of the Australian aborigines, means "I don't understand". Apparently, at least according to what I've heard, the first English to come to Australia asked what this crazy jumping animal was called. The Aborigines, of course, understood as much English as the Englishmen understood of their language and replied "kangaroo" - I don't understand. The result of this classic Babel moment is that the name stuck and thus we have the kangaroo. It made me laugh the other day when Elias pointed to a picture of a kangaroo and said "Look, Miss Bethany! It's an 'I don't understand'!"
Today I had another unexpected moment when Jonatan decided to chew on his colored pencil lead and paint his mouth different colors...again. Today it was orange and then black. I thought we'd gotten over that. Apparently, I was overly optimistic on that one. That was a not-so-pleasant unexpected moment. Yes, there are definitely that kind too!
These unexpected moments are what make teaching interesting, fun and special and keep me on my toes. They are the spice of life in an elementary school. Mostly, I enjoy them. Well, the good ones anyway. Many times, these unexpected moments are what allow me to see the humanness in my students and see them again, not as little minds to fill with as much knowledge as possible in the few hours I have, but as great little people. These little bits of time in my day knock my brain off its task-oriented track and remind me again how much I love these kids. And many times in these moments I see God's grace and hand at work.
So thank You God for the unexpected and for sending it into my day to help me see again with Your eyes.
Tuesday and Wednesday were great days with third grade. After a frustrating last few months, it was a blessing to be able to go home at the end of the day and say "Wow, I had a great day with third grade today!". One of the most encouraging parts of that was that they behaved excellently while I read them a skit about Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego and Daniel that I am hoping to do with them, since we're studying entertainment this month. Unexpected. Wonderful. An answer to prayer. And I am reminded again that God is good and hears my cries to Him.
Thursday was my brother's birthday.
I casually happened to mention it to my fourth graders. And they got all excited and wanted to write him a letter. So we spent half of our English class time composing a letter to Ben and taking a picture of us to put with it. Looking at the pictures tonight that Marysol patiently took for me, I realized how hard it is to get 13 kids to all look at the camera at the same time with all their faces showing. (Yes, I can hear all of you parents laughing right now). Oh, and don't tell anyone how many kids we fit on a sliding board at once. I counted 8. There aren't rules about things like that here. Thursday was also Meylin's birthday - one of my third graders. So I went to third grade during recess. We sang to her and ate a cake that her mom had brought in. It was a fun but unexpected treat which we all enjoyed.
Another funny unexpected moment this week was Elias (the only boy sitting at the top of the slide in this picture) deciding to call kangaroos "I don't understands". I off-handedly, just for fun, explained to fourth grade the other day that kangaroo, in the language of the Australian aborigines, means "I don't understand". Apparently, at least according to what I've heard, the first English to come to Australia asked what this crazy jumping animal was called. The Aborigines, of course, understood as much English as the Englishmen understood of their language and replied "kangaroo" - I don't understand. The result of this classic Babel moment is that the name stuck and thus we have the kangaroo. It made me laugh the other day when Elias pointed to a picture of a kangaroo and said "Look, Miss Bethany! It's an 'I don't understand'!"
Today I had another unexpected moment when Jonatan decided to chew on his colored pencil lead and paint his mouth different colors...again. Today it was orange and then black. I thought we'd gotten over that. Apparently, I was overly optimistic on that one. That was a not-so-pleasant unexpected moment. Yes, there are definitely that kind too!
These unexpected moments are what make teaching interesting, fun and special and keep me on my toes. They are the spice of life in an elementary school. Mostly, I enjoy them. Well, the good ones anyway. Many times, these unexpected moments are what allow me to see the humanness in my students and see them again, not as little minds to fill with as much knowledge as possible in the few hours I have, but as great little people. These little bits of time in my day knock my brain off its task-oriented track and remind me again how much I love these kids. And many times in these moments I see God's grace and hand at work.
So thank You God for the unexpected and for sending it into my day to help me see again with Your eyes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)