My co-teacher was having students come to the blackboard and write words pertaining to the past lesson on the board. Not very many students knew the words or the spellings. It came to the point where she asked a student to come to the board and the student responded “ar minda, ar vizi” (I don’t want to, I don’t know.) The teacher had her come to the board and write in English “I do not know anything”. The student was not disgruntled at all, despite having to be told how to spell every word and even how some letters were written. I would have been embarrassed. Since it was not me though, I found it hard not to laugh at the situation. An eleventh grader who has had English for two years, can not even say and write “I do not know anything.”
The second graders are rather adorable. They tend to mob hug me and when first walk into the room they chant “inglisuri, inglisuri” (English, English). Their excitement is short lived though. Being six or seven year olds, they easily get distracted and repetition is the name of the game.
There is one girl who never wants to take notes from the board. She never really wants to do anything. Unfortunately, she is absolutely adorable and I know her outside of school through my former host family. One day as my co-teacher was writing new words on the board and other students were copying them into their notebooks, she looked at me and pleaded with me to write the words for her. I told her no and smiled. She crinkled her nose, took her pen in her hand with the point against her forefinger and leaned into the pen, drawing blood. Then she snatched her finger to her mouth and made the typical “aaauuuuuiii” sound that Georgians make. (I will just have to find a way to discreetly take videos or have my friend recreate the various expressive noises Georgians make in various situations that are hard to explain). My co-teacher asked what was wrong, saw the girl was bleeding, took her notebook and finished writing the words for her. Now, I am not sure that the seven year old had the intention of hurting herself to get her way, but it sure seemed that way to me. Conscious decision or not, she did not have to write.
As I have said before, the seventh graders are one of my least favorite classes. There are a few very good students who I really enjoy teaching, but the majority of them are on the annoyance level of monkeys flinging poo (or so I would imagine). On this particular day I entered the classroom a few minutes before my co-teacher. I attempted to quiet the students by telling them to be quiet and sit down. Instead the children continued to yell and chase after each other, knocking over tables and other students. I raised my voice to try and be heard over the din when my co-teacher walked in and says to me “Do not shout.” I immediately shut up. The irony of that comment was nearly too much for me. I struggled not to laugh. I do not like to shout, I do not normally shout, it is the co-teachers who normally yell at the students. It was rather amusing to have the person who normally raises their voice be the one to tell me to be quiet. Co-teachers will even start to shout at students while I am in the middle of an exercise…
There are a few seventh graders (it is open to all levels, but no one else comes) who come to my “English Club” that I hold Tuesday during the sixth lesson. The amount of students varies between two and seven. I have to wait around an hour for the sixth lesson, which I do not like to do.
Last Tuesday, only two students came so I called off the following Tuesday. The day of, I reminded the two students who regularly come that I was not going to be there. I am sitting at home drinking a cup of tea when I get a call from my co-teacher. She tells me that there are five students waiting for me. I then explain to her that I told the two constant students that there was no “English Club”. I love the lack of communication!