The day started out bumpily, even before I got on the road. I have been changing dollars here at the market for a reasonable rate (reasonable given the terrible general rates here in Zongo) for a few days. Today for some reason, the guy at the booth I go to decided to offer me less Francs, about a dollar worth on forty dollars. It doesn't seem like much, but he wouldn't budge. I was irritated as I had to start all over again with someone new - I was due to pick up some farm implements as gifts for the camp this morning, and I needed Francs. In my efforts to say thanks and to help out, I have purchased hoes, saws, levels, carpenter squares, trowels, fruits and vegetables, dresses, shoes, signs, pens, notebooks, beds, chairs, desks,etc. and have given away most of my ties, socks, and shoes. When I depart, I will leave my summer shirts and slacks. I am in overdrive mode as I only have twelve more days in Zongo and I want to make the best of it. When I saw Yaya after returning from the market, he told me he had a friend who changed money. We stopped by and the gentleman gave me a very good rate (by Zongo standards). That brightened my mood and I ended up buying an extra hoe. We made our way leisurely to the camp, and I waved a ton along the way and received countless smiles and lovely gestures. Today was Teaching and Learning Academy, and our subjects were praising students and memory. I was excited about the praising bit, they couldn't wait for the memory segment.
I am on a one man mission to destroy the last vestiges of European colonialism - that of the cruel, harsh expert standing in front of the classroom! Africans are kind and caring, on the most part, but something happens when you put them in the classroom. I blame the Brits of course, with their caste systems and overripe sense of propriety. Somehow, this notion that professionalism is embodied in a walking corpse has come to dominate this continent (and other places as well). Nowhere else in their environment do I see them behave so rigidly and harshly. I have written before about this "expert" problem, and most of us have heard the pedagogical antidote/anecdote, "no longer the sage on the stage, but the guide on the side." So when we decided to expand the English Club, we had some very serious talks about this kind of draconian environment and how to avoid it. Most of them agreed they would not like to learn a new language with a strict and heartless instructor.
The praise session went well, and I managed to squeeze in some new consideration of the role of questioning - no longer a simple comprehension check, but a way to get them to start and to continue thinking. We also discovered that it was more intriguing to praise, not for a correct answer, but to reward them for taking a risk and trying. I rarely get to orchestrate epiphanies, but I did today. We put all kinds of phrases on board like "good job" "excellent", "way to go", "no, but you are so close", etc. They enjoyed this foray into fun (new territory in a classroom) and we spent a great deal of time practicing it. They picked up on it right away, and we managed to reconnect them with their true nature for awhile. They agreed that their responses should open doors rather than close them. We then lambasted the British notion that everything must be perfect all the time. For an example, I gave them the following scenario - You are teaching prepositions, and Teddy says "the phone is on the chair (should have been table). Their first inclination was to correct the direct object mistake, instead of acknowledging the heart of the lesson, the correct preposition. They got it right away. I then poked fun at the teachers who incessantly correct pronunciation with only slightly better pronunciation (only after reminding them how awful my pronunciation is in most languages). This hit home as well.It was a great lesson at a great time, as many of them are student leaders and they can break this cruel chain of dogma and discipline for their younger peers.
The first lesson went so well, I was somewhat spent by the time I got to memory. They have been uncharacteristically impatient with me as I demonstrated the technique two weeks ago and they didn't get to see the explanation last week due to the World Refugee Day proceedings. So today was the payoff. For the second day in a row, I was dubious about the outcome of an activity. I was tired and not too sure they would get the whole memory gig. Sure enough, we started slow and it took them three times as long to work up through the preliminary stages (to be fair, they were in their third language). But once we got to the flow of the method, most of them got it! They laughed, had fun, and congratulated one another. These people are so intellectually curious, that I can't stay ahead of them much longer :)
Yaya and I took our time getting home and stopped for our Saturday evening orange drinks - not able to drink them for three more hours however. I showed him a Youtube video of Free's Alright Now as we often listen to a reggaefied version of it on the radio. When the sun set, so did the generator and I had my leftover beans and corn cold. It is almost 8pm now, and I am getting ready to work on tomorrow's planning meeting with the leadership team in the camp. I am curiously more drained these days while being excited and resolved to see things through. $%^&, a new bug (to me anyway) just bit me - another dark night in Zongo :)
I am on a one man mission to destroy the last vestiges of European colonialism - that of the cruel, harsh expert standing in front of the classroom! Africans are kind and caring, on the most part, but something happens when you put them in the classroom. I blame the Brits of course, with their caste systems and overripe sense of propriety. Somehow, this notion that professionalism is embodied in a walking corpse has come to dominate this continent (and other places as well). Nowhere else in their environment do I see them behave so rigidly and harshly. I have written before about this "expert" problem, and most of us have heard the pedagogical antidote/anecdote, "no longer the sage on the stage, but the guide on the side." So when we decided to expand the English Club, we had some very serious talks about this kind of draconian environment and how to avoid it. Most of them agreed they would not like to learn a new language with a strict and heartless instructor.
The praise session went well, and I managed to squeeze in some new consideration of the role of questioning - no longer a simple comprehension check, but a way to get them to start and to continue thinking. We also discovered that it was more intriguing to praise, not for a correct answer, but to reward them for taking a risk and trying. I rarely get to orchestrate epiphanies, but I did today. We put all kinds of phrases on board like "good job" "excellent", "way to go", "no, but you are so close", etc. They enjoyed this foray into fun (new territory in a classroom) and we spent a great deal of time practicing it. They picked up on it right away, and we managed to reconnect them with their true nature for awhile. They agreed that their responses should open doors rather than close them. We then lambasted the British notion that everything must be perfect all the time. For an example, I gave them the following scenario - You are teaching prepositions, and Teddy says "the phone is on the chair (should have been table). Their first inclination was to correct the direct object mistake, instead of acknowledging the heart of the lesson, the correct preposition. They got it right away. I then poked fun at the teachers who incessantly correct pronunciation with only slightly better pronunciation (only after reminding them how awful my pronunciation is in most languages). This hit home as well.It was a great lesson at a great time, as many of them are student leaders and they can break this cruel chain of dogma and discipline for their younger peers.
The first lesson went so well, I was somewhat spent by the time I got to memory. They have been uncharacteristically impatient with me as I demonstrated the technique two weeks ago and they didn't get to see the explanation last week due to the World Refugee Day proceedings. So today was the payoff. For the second day in a row, I was dubious about the outcome of an activity. I was tired and not too sure they would get the whole memory gig. Sure enough, we started slow and it took them three times as long to work up through the preliminary stages (to be fair, they were in their third language). But once we got to the flow of the method, most of them got it! They laughed, had fun, and congratulated one another. These people are so intellectually curious, that I can't stay ahead of them much longer :)
Yaya and I took our time getting home and stopped for our Saturday evening orange drinks - not able to drink them for three more hours however. I showed him a Youtube video of Free's Alright Now as we often listen to a reggaefied version of it on the radio. When the sun set, so did the generator and I had my leftover beans and corn cold. It is almost 8pm now, and I am getting ready to work on tomorrow's planning meeting with the leadership team in the camp. I am curiously more drained these days while being excited and resolved to see things through. $%^&, a new bug (to me anyway) just bit me - another dark night in Zongo :)
The kids are perfecting their Skype song
I can't tell you how exciting this picture is! These are not just members of the English Club - they each will work with 15 children, teaching them English and changing the way students learn in this culture
"Ah, you almost got it. Keep trying"
It was really cute watching them develop the nuances of cajoling and coaching. They did a great job - their insides back on the outside again
The generator is working again and I will try to find something on Youtube to knock me out. It was a very good day!
BTW - supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is one of our new praise words :)
BTW - supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is one of our new praise words :)
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