First Week of School

Be firmer, be sterner, be stricter, be meaner! These thoughts were coursing through my mind as my students refused to sit down or do their work.This week has been exhausting as I've tried to corral 10 students who have been stigmatized as one of the worst classes in the school. It has been head butting head, pushing until one will bends to the other and I was determined to come out on top.

Many students had been causing me problems, but one student in particular I was very leery of. He was always chatting with his classmates and getting him to write a single word took constant redirection and supervision. I'd walk away and walk back and he'd still be at the exact spot I'd left him 10 minutes before.  I'd given him infractions and he'd refused to go down to the office until I'd started counting or threatened to write him more infractions. He'd yelled at me and it seemed that the more I pushed, the harder he pulled.

One of the first assignments I asked my students to do was write a letter to me about themselves, at least 10 sentences. This was for me to get a writing sample, but also to know what was important to them. As I walked around to make sure the students were writing or at least redirect them back to the task, I was hesitant to approach him. since writing was definitely not his forte. I was shocked when I approached him to see two sentences written on his paper. That was much less than anyone else, but those sentences floored me.
"I love fourth grade. This is the best grade ever and Miss Nussbaum is the best teacher ever."

I didn't deserve those praises especially not from him.It really gripped me and I realized that I was wrong. I was wrong with trying to add more discipline, more punishment when they weren't behaving. Maybe, instead of figuring out how to fix them, I needed to fix myself first, change my teaching styles to fit their needs instead of change their behaviors to fit my teaching style

Later on, I caught the same boy talking while he should have been writing. I approached him and decided instead of disciplining him to ask him if he'd be less distracted sitting at my desk to do his work. He looked at me strangely, then replied he didn't know. I moved him to the teacher's desk and he got started right away. Part of the problem was the distractions around him and by punishing him for his behavior, I really wasn't looking for the catalyst.

This weekend, my job is not to make my discipline system better, I believe that is fine the way it is. My goal is to revamp my lesson plans, change them in order to fit the needs of my students. No matter how much I love my powerpoints, they don't learn well that way. And the note the boy wrote. I'm going to keep it in my top desk drawer or perhaps frame it as a reminder that the students are the most important part and if they don't learn the way we teach, we need to teach the way they learn.

There's No Place Like Home

Life in another country is scary in theory. You are surrounded by people and a culture that is entirely foreign to what you are accustomed to. The "norms" have changed and the only people and places you've known your entire life can only be reached by plane. It's scary in theory.

The reality of it is much different. As I sit here and write this letter, its hard to put into words what it's like to live abroad, because after a period of time it no longer feels like "living abroad."  Humanity is humanity everywhere. Underneath it all, we are one and the same and its a beautiful thing, that even with language barriers and different family backgrounds, we can grab each other's hand at the end of the day and say "you're just like me."

Jarabacoa is no longer the "place I'm going to be for the next year, it has become the "place that I live." at least for the time being.  I remember at my family reunion this summer, someone asked me where I lived and I without hesitation I responded "the Dominican Republic.' She looked at me strangely before moving on. I realized that my mindset has changed. I'm no longer on the countdown to how many days until I go back home to Michigan, because for me Jarabacoa is already home.

I love this city with its mountain views and palm trees.

I love walking to church on Sundays.

I love worshipping God in a different language and realizing that my God cannot be contained within a language or a culture.

I love early morning runs while watching the sun rise, basking the mountains in purple.

 I love attempting to make new dishes for supper and settling in for a Hallmark movie at the end of a long day.

I love walking to get ice cream (with sprinkles of course)

I love bilingual game nights where Dominicans and Americans come together in a Spanglish fashion and laugh and joke and play Skipbo as the sun goes down,

And most of all I love the fact that I'm no longer living abroad, I'm just living.