I come to Africa and somehow find myself back in high school. Didn’t I just leave school? Isn’t this supposed to be what I do after I put in my 16 years of education? When I signed up for all this, school was the last place I expected myself to be. I didn’t plan on teaching, I chose Peace Corps over Teach for America for a reason (it wasn’t so that I didn’t have to teach every day, but that was honestly a plus). But here I am, teaching three courses, five days a week, which is actually more than the average PC Education volunteer teaches, and with zero teacher training.
I’m on my second term of teaching Form 1 biology and Form 3 math and biology (equivalent to high school freshman and juniors). I took a self-designed crash course in teaching by visiting two Education buddies who were in their second years. One, Melissa Small, is a teacher back in the States and was able to give me a step-by-step lesson organization lesson and how-to-discipline-and-classroom-manage guidelines. My other buddy, Garret, is a science teacher at his school and hooked me up with all his old lesson plans and tests. Since then I’ve stumbled and grumbled my way to semi-competency. It’s a great accomplishment for me, but the success is a little sad knowing that I am by far the most qualified person at that school to teach and I can get through more material and higher quality material than any other teacher at that school on any given day (to which I show up, my attendance isn’t great). That’s actually not true for my Form 1 class, but the Form 3’s are excelling. Excelling!
It all really started during our site visit week during training. Mr. Phiri, the Head Teacher, was waiting for me to arrive on the evening matola my very first night in Chikwina. He immediately pounced and informed me that I “will be teaching our students math!” Oh, will I, I thought. He was really desperate for teachers. At the time there were only 4 for a student population of 200. At the time of the matola incident, I really thought, no thanks, I just moved to Africa, need a minute. But man is that guy persistent. At the start of the next term he had me working at my requested 3 days a week and whenever I had time to come in. Initially he wanted me to take 4 classes, become a member of the PTA, and be a chaperone to the student’s away football games. But I had to draw the line at 3 classes, basi. I had no idea at the time that that’s already more than volunteers usually teach. Somehow, since then my official schedule has become 5 days a week, almost full time. Whenever I point this out, Mr. Phiri has a remarkable ability to tune me out. I’m gonna have to give this guy a talkin’-to before next year. It really is taking up all my time, and it really isn’t my job.
I have some serious rants about this guy that I’ll spare you. Well, except that he never tells me when it’s a holiday (which we have one almost every week), so I’ll show up to school and find it deserted before I figure it out. He’ll also never tell me when it’s a half day, which was a real problem this one day when I was just getting into my groove in a Form 1 lesson at noon when all 50 of them got up and left very loudly and disrespectfully. I was pissed. Oh man, and this one time, it was hot season and I’d just gotten to school (located down one mountain and up another, good 30 minute hike) and I, the only female teacher the school has ever had, walk into the teachers’ office all sweaty. In front of all the other male teachers he asks “are you sweating because it’s hot, or are you sweating because you’re fat?” I was livid. I could have taken off his head right there. Like I’ve said before, I know being called fat here is a complement, but in no way is it ever appropriate to very publically comment on a woman’s physical appearance in her place of work in front of her co-workers, especially when they all happen to be men. And c’mon, it was f***ing hot season, a**hole. What were you thinking?! Wow, I just got really off-topic.
So anyway, except for the administrative drama, teaching is a pleasure. Except for Form 1, I hate those guys. It’s not their fault that I hate them, I hate them because I’m too impatient to take the time to get on their learning level and like them. The language barrier is just too much for them to grasp anything I throw at them. And in Biology, it just makes no sense that they have a teacher that can’t translate the concepts into their language. They end up not listening, fidgeting, talking in class, not learning, not answering questions (which makes me look dumb when I ask a question followed by 5 minutes of silence), failing every test miserably. In turn, I end up dumbing down the lesson into words they can understand, but then they don’t get all the material they are responsible for because the lesson is so ridiculously watered down. It just doesn’t work. I’m gonna have to bring in a translator next term, otherwise they will have a year of biology completely wasted.
But my form 3’s! They are gems!!! True gems! And I get to spend at least 2 hours a day with them! They can understand me and their class is small (because everyone who can’t cut it or can’t pay fees has dropped out by form 3), so I get to know all of them. We have a goofy rapport and mutual respect. [Most] work hard and want to please me. They aren’t used to a teacher who gets excited when they get questions right or recognize them just for participating. In an educational tradition of rote memorization, my class periods of very public praise and enthusiasm are a highlight. I get so worked up when I’m teaching them I find myself yelling about logrithms and osmosis. And it’s contagious. When one of them gets a math question right on the blackboard some of the more outspoken boys will jump up on their chairs and cheer. Really, they’re just being asses, but they’re definitely paying attention. They still can’t think critically for their lives, but they’re catching on.
There’s this one clown in form 3 who, as I leave after every lesson, says to me very solemnly “god bless you, Madam.” (They call me Madam). Since he’s the clown, I just assume he’s being a sarcastic sh*t, but they all get such a kick out of it when I call back “god bless YOU, Vincent.” I’m pretty sure they like me. Yesterday, before it got rained out, my form 1 and form 3 students teamed up and challenged the form 2s and 4s to a game of football in my honor. Haha! Bless their hearts.
But after all that, my greatest skill in all of teaching is my capacity to come up with great punishments. Cheating is rampant. And stupid. They don’t even try to cover up that they have shamelessly copied their neighbor’s work. It’s word-for-word and usually completely unbelievably wrong. For the boys, I have them come to my house and fill my buckets with water. As carrying water is a woman’s job, they can’t stand it. Its hard work and emasculating. I prefer them to do it while the rest of the school is at sports practice right by my borehole, so everyone will see. Any male student I’ve inflicted this particular punishment on has never again been caught cheating (so at least they’re cheating better, I’m teaching them something!) Once there was a mass group of Form 1s who didn’t turn in an assignment. Long story short, it was all very disrespectful. They were trying to send me a message that I wasn’t the boss of them. I split them up into groups of 3 and had them pick up trash from the Health Center to the market, a very public section of road, so that all the Ama’s would see them. Humiliation is the best way to get my students’ attention. It pretty much does the punishment for me. The act of picking up trash really isn’t that big of a deal, but once the Ama’s know it’s a punishment, everyone in all the villages will know which kids are misbehaving in school. The rumor mill in Malawi is infamous. Anyway, all the kids’ parents found out and turning in assignments have since been much less of a problem. Once, a group of kids got in BIG trouble with me and I sent a note home to their parents advising them to keep their 2000kw school fees and use it to feed their other kids because it would be a better investment. Not only has that group not given me trouble recently, but to show their support, some of those parents have spearheaded a science lab building project at the school (which is desperately needed). I’m helping them write a grant to get the funding for it. Anyway, next kid who gets in trouble has to give Doug a bath. Haha! I’m actually looking forward to it.
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