This was my first week of real teaching. I taught two classes a day, five days a week: JHS Prep, 1, 2, and 3, and Primary 4, 5, and 6. I teach the Primary levels twice a week, but I'm not sure why. The JHS classes met and exceeded my general expectations—they are all little angels, working silently and diligently at their desks for the entire class period. I had every class make name tags—it’s an icebreaker exercise that allows me to introduce myself, and where I’m from (I showed a map), and then get to know each of the students a little, and start to learn their names. I made myself a name tag as an example with 'KATE' written in big font across the paper, and something that I like (mountains) drawn next to it. I asked the students to do the same. I also made posters for each class, with everyone's name on them, and every day that they attend class on time, I give them a star next to their name. In the U.S. this sort of incentive would have no effect whatsoever, but here in Ghana, I swear, it was the sensation of the entire school. I had kids coming in all week just to check where their name was on the wall. It was amazing. I also hung all their name tags around the room, and that drove them wild as well—I had bunches of students standing around, admiring each other’s work. Small things mean SO MUCH to them; the fact that I care what their names are, that I think they deserve to be written on the wall and their artwork displayed—this might be the first time in their lives that anyone has taken this sort of personal interest in them. In fact, this week as I was trying to ask the other teachers for official student rosters for each class (in many cases, there isn’t one), I came across glaring discrepancies between how a student had spelled their own names for me, and how their names were spelt on their teacher’s roster. I’m still figuring this out…
On the other side of spectrum, the P4 class is a real handful. I’m glad it’s the lowest grade I will have to teach—they are nearly illiterate and very rowdy. There are several students who are clearly mentally disabled, which really complicates the situation. When I asked the class to write down their names for me on a list, several of them didn’t know their names, and many couldn’t spell them. There’s one name on my roll that is completely impossible—he wrote, “Iunbsnt-Flinaaut.” His teacher said this isn’t correct, but I’ve yet to receive his actual name. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there is going to be a very wide range of ability levels between classes and within them. Many of the P4 students wrote my name on their name tags, or their own first name and my last name.
Most of the JHS students are very mature and intelligent, and will probably exceed all of my hopes for them. They will encourage me to rise to the occasion and step up my projects, challenging them. But Primary 4 is going to keep me dropping the bar, trying to come up with super basic ideas. I’m really nervous about teaching them the concept of ‘line’ next week---I’m afraid when I ask them to do a contour drawing of an object they’ll just stare back at me like I’m an alien. And I am.
--What does it feel like to lay an egg? Is it like needing to go to the bathroom—you just know it when you feel it coming?
--I sat through a three hour staff meeting at school last week, most of which consisted of reading the notes from the last meeting, including the introductory prayer, word for word, from the previous meeting. This was just moments after the Headmistress had given the current meeting’s prayer, which was identical, of course, to the last one, and I’m sure, the one before that.
--Remember cell phone etiquette? Like, you don’t answer your cell phone in the middle of meetings? Well, my Headmistress answered her cell phone probably half a dozen times while leading the staff meeting. All the other teachers did the same, wandering out of the room while talking loudly on their phones.
--Washing double size sheets by hand in a bucket of water is impossible—how do you ever know where you have already scrubbed? It’s a giant rectangle, with no point of reference. At least with shirts and pants, I know what ground I’ve covered. With the sheets, mostly I just agitate them in the bucket for a while, scrub a few areas, and call it a day.
--I had Giardia last week! Fun! Glad it wasn’t this week while I was trying to teach. Last week I felt awful---sulfur burps and painful, bloated stomach. Glad they’ve got meds for that, readily available in Savelugu.
--I knew supplies were going to be slim when my assistant Headmaster came into my room and happily presented me with two pens, one blue and one red. I think that’s it.
--A JHS 2 student, Mariame, came into my classroom last week while I was working on lesson plans. She saw that I had scraps of fabric on the table, and I told her she could make something with them. Within 30 minutes she had cut and sewn an entire wardrobe—pants, shirt, skirt, and dress—all doll size. It was incredible. She also sat down and drew for another two hours---portraits of herself featuring long blonde hair.
--Ever heard of ‘TZ”? It’s the local favorite in the Northern region; very similar to banku, but less sour. It’s a typical Ghanaian grey mush that you pair with groundnut or light soup. It’s pretty much tasteless. I think it’s made from corn. It’s sort of like thick porridge in a ball shape. In Diare, north of me, there's this one woman who makes TZ every night near the taxi stand, and around 7 pm, half the town lines up with their bowls to pay 40 cents for her TZ and groundnut soup. It's an amazing scene, particularly in the dark--the woman working by flashlight, ladling food out of several giant kettles at rapid speed.
--I learned the sign for ‘bad behavior’ this week. Very useful.
--There had been a pile of kente weaving equipment in my classroom for the last two years, and when the weaving instructor started moving it, I began to smell something dead in the corner. I moved everything out, and found not only several dead toads, but an entire stack of live ones huddled against the wall. I then proceeded to swat them all out the door, but many of them wanted nothing more than to be in the classroom. So I began chasing them around the room, catching them between two bowls and ushering them outside. I plugged the holes in the bottom of the door to prevent this sort of ridiculous episode from reoccurring.
--I saw some kindergarten students playing with staples on the ground…like it was fun.
--Stealing supplies is going to be an issue, but most everything comes back after a few hours. A student who sees another student with a broken stub of a colored pencil (any personal belongings is grounds for suspicion), knows it must belong to the art room, and they come racing back with it.
