I have an incredible newfound respect for teachers. After the last two days of four hours of back-to-back teaching in back to 35-degree heat, I’ve had to draw on every single synapse in my body to muster creativity, memory (particularly of the mathematical and musical variety), the most basic of English, and much patience.
The angelic little ones were again feral today but we can only blame ourselves. Stupidly we set up the de-lousing ‘salon’ in clear vision of the kids though really, there was no other option – the hose would only stretch so far! Needless to say, they were completely distracted, jostling for front row to laugh at their friends, or to stake out a place for themselves.
Meanwhile, it was Math’s Day again … Why does it come around so quickly and why on earth did I contemplate teaching fractions? Fractions are challenging enough to me, or at least trying to remember back 30 years. After a moment of complete metal retardation, I pulled myself together and somewhat miraculously, even if I say so myself, managed to get through to at least half of the class. The other half cheated, as is the norm here.
I did however experience one of those moments, which I guess makes teaching, and certainly volunteering under these circumstances worthwhile. One 35-year old woman was determined to master irregular fractions. With a small group of much younger students, she refused to leave at the end of the class. They stood with me at the whiteboard as we nutted out answers from the worksheet. I watched the sheer determination on their faces, shared their pain with their repeated mistakes, and then together we shrieked and literally jumped with joy as they mastered it. It really was an incredible experience.
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