I have to write this down before I forget. Before tomorrow when something happens and I convince myself that this moment never existed. Before the feeling that I’m getting nowhere with my job comes creeping back. Before the students again inform the teacher via Facebook chat that they have collectively decided not to attend class. (I’m not kidding about that. Last Wednesday when my Peace Corps project manager was here I was supposed to have class, but got a message that the previous scenario had just played itself out over the internet.) Regardless, I just have to share this because it was, in a word, magical.
Ok, so magical is a strong word, but it gets at how something can be just right and at the same time totally out of one's control. Imagine one moment in your job that everything just clicks and you know you’re in the right place, at the right time, doing just what you’re supposed to be doing and things “work” in a way you could have never forced no matter how hard you tried. Place that moment in a Costa Rican high school classroom, 9:30am, September 14, 2011.
My job when working with classes is to “co-teach”, something that has proved very difficult. Generally, the class is either just handed to me, and the teacher leaves the room, or I spend the entire class sitting in a back corner piping in only when asked about pronunciation. Neither of those are effective co-teaching models. Effective co-teaching moments have been few and far between, and I often worry that I’m not making much of an impact with the co-teaching strategy. I’m probably going to keep feeling this for the duration of my time here, because co-teaching is innately challenging practice. Getting two teachers working well together takes a lot of time and commitment on both teachers’ parts, and those are two things that aren’t exactly abundant here. Despite this, I now have at least one moment to go back to and remind me that all is not lost.
It happened when a group of ninth grade students were working on a lesson about the use of future tense in English. I presented the technical grammar stuff, the students worked on a written practice and then we had planned a charades-type activity for communicative practice. I had come up with the activity and presented it to a group the day before, but had to leave before actually seeing how it turned out. I left the teacher with it and didn’t have terribly high expectations for its success. The reason I felt this way was because what I, and many contemporary educators, call “communicative activities/practices” are what many others call “games”. They are many times regarded as having no place in school and when I use them in classes here I often get a response akin to, “Yea, the students liked it, but I don’t think they really learned anything.” I understand it’s hard to change ideas about how to educate, and it makes it really hard for me when teachers just plain don’t “believe in” what I’m trying to sell. The moral of the story, I hoped charades would go well but doubted it. When we got to that point in the class, I went to the teacher and asked, with some trepidation, bracing myself to think quick and invent a new practice, “Should we do the charades thing? I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Did it work yesterday? Did they get it?” Instead of what I expected, I got, “Yea. Let’s do it. Yesterday it went great, I even added another part to the activity so more students participated and there was more practice.” I didn’t believe my ears. Not only did they do the activity, he improved the activity, made it his own, and now he was the one endorsing it. Since things we’re going so well, I decided to test my luck and suggested he lead the practice because he was so successful with it the day before. He agreed, got up and jumped right in. And that was the moment. Right there. We were real co-teachers. It wasn’t “my” lesson in “his” class; it was “our” activity. We had worked together, improved on each other's ideas and executed our work seamlessly. That, was magic.
While he started explaining and organizing the students, I took a moment to reflect. I sat down and looked around. ‘That just happened,’ I thought, ‘it’s really working.’ My job is to work with teachers to help them improve their English teaching strategies, and that is exactly what happened there. I wonder every time I step foot in the school if what I’m doing there really matters. It depends on the day how I feel about it, but this day, in that moment, I knew that inspiring one teacher to creatively use charades to teach the future tense in English is something to be proud of.
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