Burning Out

Today I finished up drawing/self-portraits with four classes of 7-to-8-year-olds in class 2, like 2nd grade. I always have the most difficult time with this group. All of the classes at every age are a little rowdy, but these kids in particular are not easy to keep quiet...or from running, fighting, screaming, crying, hitting, kicking, and the list goes on. I cannot convey in words how frustrated I feel when I try to explain whatever activity we're supposed to do that day and I can't hear my own voice.

I try every non-violent method I can think of to get them to listen. The peace sign has been worn out, and I've moved on to things like, "if you can hear me, clap twice" or other call-and-repeat tactics that the local teachers use. These kinds of things work for a minute, but pretty much everything I think of is rendered useless after the first time.

Today I brought some sticky notes in the shape of hearts and told students (in the last 5 minutes--I forgot about them before that) that they could earn one if they were respectful and listened. And they did listen--for about 60 seconds. Still, I awarded each of them a sticky note at the end of class. At least, I tried to. As soon as I gave the first two kids their prizes, dozens of others began swarming me. I had explained that everyone would receive one if they sat at their desks, and again tried to tell them that I couldn't keep track of who had one and who didn't if they weren't sitting down. No response. Maybe my explanation was too complicated, but then I couldn't think of any other way to tell them. And it's not like they could hear anything I was saying anyway because half the class was running around and screaming themselves. Immediately I started hearing, "Madame, he has stolen my own!" or "Madame, this boy has two!" from every corner of the room. There was more shouting and fighting. There were tears. And I was completely out of ideas and frustrated almost to the point of crying myself.

Of course, I want these kids to learn the songs I have to teach them, to learn something about the world, do the activities and have something tangible to show their parents/teachers (the drawing they have all theoretically done), or whatever. But at this point, that is not my concern at all. Aside from my own objectives in that regard, I don't want to do more harm than good. Sometimes I get so frustrated and angry that I find myself screaming at the top of my lungs to try and keep kids from running around, hitting each other, or whatever else they might be doing. If 6 kids are crying by the end of my 45 minutes with them, I am obviously incapable of being in the class as the sole authority figure. At the end of my second class 2 today, having spent the entire 45 minutes amidst complete and utter chaos with no other adult in sight, I decided to bring it up with the teacher. If I could find her.

I found her chatting with several other teachers (what were their 100-child classes doing at that moment?) and said something pretty stupid. But I was so angry. I walked up and said "I'm sorry, I really don't think I can come back to your class next week."

Another male teacher responds. "Why not?"

"I just...they really have no interest in listening to me." I wasn't sure how to put it politely, and without getting the class in trouble, which I knew would result in a beating. The male teacher laughed. I was on the verge of tears.

"Ah, yes. But you are the teacher. Are they understanding what you are saying to them?"

"I think so."

More laughing. "You just have to try."

At this point, I was livid. "I am trying. I have tried everything I can think of. I don't want to beat them. I won't beat them. But kids are crying and fighting each other, and I don't want anyone to get really hurt..." Okay, so I just didn't know what to say. I felt defeated. Although everything I said was true.

Still this giggling continued. "You just have to think of something to get them to listen." Thanks for the advice, buddy.

So the teacher said she'll be in the room next week "to get the children to listen." But I have mixed feelings about that because, like I said, at this point it's less about the kids actually understanding what I "teach" and more about preventing the zoo-like behavior that results in something that resembles those fake jungle scenes from Mean Girls.

In hindsight, I feel like I was terrible to the kids this afternoon. I had no idea what to do and I got extremely angry. Visibly. I can't justify spending 45 minutes with a group of kids just watching them yell at each other, but I also can't justify doing the yelling as I did today. What I am teaching is not important enough for me to be screaming at kids to get them to listen to me, and definitely not important enough for the teachers to be beating them because they're disobeying during my 45 minutes with them. My true feelings at this point: thank goodness I have just one more week. I hate, hate, hate that I'm thinking this way.

I know that so many kids are loving it. Teachers, too. Especially with the older kids, this has been a really unique cultural exchange for us all. But I just can't stand the notion that I am making some of these kids feel scared or anything like that. On the other hand, kids that aren't scared just laugh in my face because they know I'm not going to hurt them physically. I always tell myself that I should just let the kids who want to goof off do so and address the ones who are paying attention. But it's so much easier said than done, and in the moment it just feels so strangely like one of those dreams where you're yelling for help and no one can hear you.

I think maybe we've all gotten what we needed out of this. I'll try to make the last week count, but I don't know.