The sun is down and I'm sitting on my back patio, with nothing but my the light from my computer screen, the sound of some strange chirping/singing insects, and the screams of the children playing in the government housing units across the pond. Oh, and I'm in shorts and short sleeved t-shirt. The weather has been fantastic these past few days--such a nice break from the cold winter. I just finished my outline for next week's lesson plans and am giving myself a well-deserved break after a long and hard week. Long because I'm still not used to five-day weeks (we've had days off and 2 hour delays pretty much every week since break). And hard because my kids seem to get more hard-headed, more helpless, and more disrespectful every day. I know part of that is my fault. Not laying down the rules firmly enough, not having enough energy to shower them with the positive reinforcement they need, and not having patience to answer a question the 100th time without some sassy remark. This is by far the hardest lesson I've ever had to learn: patience.
As much as these kids groan and complain about authority, rules, and school, they need firm leaders in their lives. They'll resist help when you offer it, then insist on it or beg for it when they finally realize they need it. My tendency is to rebuke them and refuse to help. I've explained something fifteen times, and while I was explaining it I commented on the fact that some people aren't listening and I will not help them later when they ask. Sure enough, two minutes later 3 hands are in the air: "I can't do it! I don't know how. You didn't teach us." That last one makes me want to slap a kid (there should be a carnival game called that--"Slap-a-kid". They'd get a lot of my money). I have students who spend the entire instructional period turn around in their seats or sleeping, and then they complain when they have to do it on their own. It doesn't matter that I spent 2 hours creating a power point the night before, that I've used my own money to buy the markers that inevitably end up uncapped and dried out, or that I'm so tired my eyes will barely stay open. The kids expect me to work around what they want, and when they want it. This generation of kids is all about instant gratification. And I thought my generation was bad. Did you know that my educational mentors recommend that the introduction to new materials part of a lesson (basically the direct instruction) last no more than 20 minutes? Kids can't sit still that long, they can't spend that much time learning. So instead, I'm supposed to provide them with 35 minutes of partner, group, or independent work. In groups, they get nothing done. They copy each other's work and talk about the latest gossip. When I ask them to work independently, almost every student has his or her hand raised for my help. Even if they know how to do it. How can I help 25 students at once? Shouldn't I, then, just go back to direct instruction, if they all need help?
Today, we were testing using the laptops. When my 8th period got back from lunch, they found out that most of their computers had logged them out. So, obviously, to fix that problem, the best thing to do is to all shout out my name and their problem at once. Because when 25 students are yelling, "Miss H! I need help! MISS H! OVER HERE!", it's really easy to get things done. They all want help now, even if they see me helping another student. I just do not understand these kids. I was telling Jess about their inability to make decisions because of their lack of experience, and it struck me that as frustrating as it is to deal with, I'm really more frustrated for the kids rather than with them. They've been raised in environments where there is no emphasis on what is socially appropriate, productive, or considerate. It's all about them, it's all about now.
I've seen so many interesting situations in the past few weeks, I can't even begin to recount them. But the more I see parents interact with their kids, the more I understand why my students are the way they are. It doesn't necessarily make it any easier to deal with on an everyday basis, but it does help me keep perspective those nights when I just want to give up or play a refreshing round of slap-a-kid. I can feel God stretching and pulling me, teaching me lessons in love that I need to learn. It's painful, it's frustrating, and it's hard.....I still have so much to learn.
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