My classes are challenging to get through (to say the least) however, I have one in particular that I have deemed my "worst" class. It might be because they are the first class I see Monday morning and I'm never too thrilled to be starting another week of work. But I've given them the benefit of the doubt plenty of times, tried to muster up every bit of positive energy I can before entering this cave of doom, but every single time I seem to walk out of their class feeling defeated. Completely warn out, hair a mess, nun outfit demolished.
Even though I've pretty much become numb to the noise level in all my classes, I swear that each student is speaking through a megaphone in this one. The volume is a collaboration of kids fist fighting, smacking their rulers on the desk, spitting at eachother, crying, throwing things across the room, crashing their wooden desks together, running up to tattle on eachother (in Thai of course). And this is all within the first 10 minutes I'm in the room.
So one might understand the feeling I get when I look at the little terrors and want to rip their little devil horns right out of their head. I mean let's face it. When you look at a kid, tell him to "Please be quiet" and he looks you straight in the eyes, spits, then yells "Quai" (meaning "buffalo" which is just about the most offensive thing you can call someone in Thailand) it takes a lot to bring my boiling blood back down to normal and remind myself he's just a 7 year old.
The other morning I gave myself the usual peptalk while heading towards the class from hell. "You can do this Kel. Don't give up. Focus on the one's that are trying. Take a deep breath and remember your patience". Just as I made it to the top of the staircase I noticed one of the students standing in the corner of the hall, tears streaming down his face. One of the teachers stood next to him with eyes of feary, ruler in hand. From day one we haven't been ignorant to the Thai teachers ancient form of physical discipline. I hate to admit it but I'm actually not even phased anymore when I see a kid getting smacked across the back, swatted with a ruler, or pulled by the ears. But this situation in particular gave off an auora of much higher tension.
I made my way through the doorway just as the classroom teacher headed out to team up with Ms. Ruler in Hand. I began unpacking my materials and barely caught a glimpse of the scene that took place in the hall. Like I said, we've seen the teachers get physcially angry with the kids before but this went beyond what I'd yet to see. I turned away and began taping things up on the board, trying not to listen to the smacking and crying that took place right outside the door. Eventually the three of them moved their way into the classroom, the boy hysterically crying by now trying to wiggle his way away from the teachers. One of them smacked him with the ruler and the other yelled in his face, finger pointed right into his eyes. The tone of her voice alone was enough to freak me out and I didn't even know what she was saying. The poor kid sat there squirming on the ground trying to break away from them, literally sobbing. I tried to fight back tears as best I could but my heart just broke. After a few minutes the scene ended when another teacher came in, grabbed the kid and left.
I took a deep breath, wiped off the tears, and tried to gain a little composure. When I turned back around to face the class, they continued in the chaotic manner they usually do. Papers flying, banging sounds on the desks, kids screaming and punching. But there was something a little different. For a moment I saw them sans their devil horns. Yes they're loud. Yes they're obnoxious. Yes they can be freakin' punks sometimes. But they're kids.
That's when I began to see the class from their perspective, as a learning environment. They're stuck in the hot classrooms all day. The noise level is high for them too. They're having to learn with 49 other kids. They have to fear the discipline from the Thai teachers (aka the ruler). And when I'm in there they have the added frustration of trying to understand someone speaking a completely different language who can't understand anything they're saying.
I let my guard down for the rest of class that day. The kids seemed to back off a little bit too. On my way out I usually wave goodbye and say "See you later", trying to get them to repeat me but usually only get a few mumbles. Same routine for class this day except just as I was out the door one of the rowdy boys who sits in the back, usually ignoring me or shouting things at me in Thai, ran up to me on my way out. Without saying anything he wrapped his arms around my waste and gave me a huge hug. He can't speak English for the life of him but he made me feel like I accomplished something that day.
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