Teaching English

This past week saw the introduction of yet another new and interesting experience…I’m sure everyone else in the program will be blogging about it, but for once I have a really unusual perspective. First I have to ask a question that’s been bothering me and a few of my friends from home for a while: Would you ever expect someone who’s never been to high school to teach it?
Granted, that’s overstating the incongruity of my service learning assignment. But there is a reason that did not request to help teach English in the secondary schools. I’m sure that many (or most) of you know that I grew up homeschooled. And when I say homeschooled, I mean all the way until I got my GED just before my senior year of high school. You have no idea how much this bewilders Italians. While homeschooling is legal here, apparently very few people actually do it, and if they do it’s only through elementary school. The incredulity and skepticism that meets my description of my pre-college education is quite amusing, so say the least.
I was SUPPOSED to get the cute little kindergarteners. Classrooms full of Italian-speaking teenaged public schoolers terrify me. And really, I don’t think that’s all that unreasonable. How many of you would relish the prospect of showing up in an unfamiliar classroom to “teach English” with a teacher you’ve never met?
Okay, so I’m sure some of you would enjoy the challenge. I, however, was petrified.
Actually, once I found the instructor and started talking to the classes, it was a riot. The kids were rowdy and reticent, inquisitive and bashful by turns; in other words, much like kids everywhere. Since this was my first time in the classroom, I started by briefly introducing myself in what I hoped were slow and articulate phrases. I’ve gotten a reputation for speed talking even in the US, so you can imagine how often I hear piu lentamente or piano, per favore. Anyway, after an awkward opening, the teacher told the students to ask me the simple questions that they had been learning. Aside from the expected, basic questions such as “How long have you been in Italy,” “Where are you from,” and “How old are you,” I encountered more than a few curveballs. I was asked if I had ever been to Hollywood to see the movie stars, if I could bring them any American recipes, and if I ever played soccer. The funniest was when one of the boys asked me if I had a girlfriend, and realized what his mistake a split second too late. The entire class burst into laughter.
After that, I asked them about themselves. I explained that I had a big family, and asked them about their siblings. I asked them about hobbies, sports, favorite foods, pets, ages, hometowns… While the experience was so much more fun than I had hoped, I did have one moment of terror when the teacher left the class for a few moments. I discovered, however, that I am capable of glaring just as ferociously as if I were not only three or so years older than these kids, and that they actually shut up when I glower and say “Hey, hey, ya’ll” in a threatening tone of voice. I suppose that phrase sounds much more intimidating if you don’t know what it means.
At the end of the second class, the kids wanted to know when I was coming back, which I assume is a good thing. They may not like me so much next week, since I have to start prepping them for some English test that I’ve never heard of. I’ll let you know how that goes…