I lazily got up, realizing it would be the last morning I got to really sleep in until April 7th! Each time I'd start to think about rolling out of bed, this thought would pop back into my head and I'd close my eyes again, guilt free. ;)
By the time I was up and ready, it was late afternoon. I hadn't had an adventure all weekend long... And it seemed like a total waste of a three day weekend to continue sitting around, generally doing nothing... So I got my lazy butt out the door and onto the train!
My afternoon in Madrid was very carefree. I had nowhere I needed to be and no time at which I ad to be there. And so I did what I love doing the most - I just began to wander, looking at the city glistening in the sunshine with fresh, free eyes. After living somewhere for awhile - even somewhere that a year or two ago would have seemed very exotic - you start to take it for granted. Not on purpose, and not in a cruel way - just in the way that you are using the city as a means to an end, rather than just enjoying it for itself. And so, it is important to take those lazy, solo afternoons to rediscover it and get lost on little charming streets you've never seen before, or try a new blood orange juice at Mercado San Miguel, or figure out which neighborhood you were enchanted by a few weeks ago and how to get there on foot instead of by metro without cheating. :) A city that once seemed so big and foreign starts to feel like home - a home you really cherish and feel lucky to live in - when you start doing this. <3
I once read about a city walking meditation - where you take in everything around you and then focus on super tiny parts of the city (a crack in a building, a sticker behind a sign far out of sight, an old roof of a church). It has the most charming ability to center a girl and make her both feel like an important part of something great and like a very, very tiny being in comparison!
XOXO
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Weekend 194-195: Last Weekend of Class
I'll be pithy: Saturday class was a joke (Jisoo and I spent the whole 10 hours drawing rainbow scenes for gummy bears that Miriam gave us because we had NOTHING else we needed to do). Sunday Abby woke up really ill and slept all day in our dark room, and so I decided to use the day as a personal rest day, as well.
And that was possibly the most uninteresting weekend I've had since arriving in Spain... >_< Boring, but, in some ways, necessary in order to fuel up for the fast approaching wave of excitement.
XOXO
And that was possibly the most uninteresting weekend I've had since arriving in Spain... >_< Boring, but, in some ways, necessary in order to fuel up for the fast approaching wave of excitement.
XOXO
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Day 193: Croatian & Farsi
Today's class was the one I had been looking forward to all year long! Part of the TTMadrid TEFL program is to take an intro class in a super foreign language so you can feel what it's like (specifically emotionally) to be thrown into a language class that you pretty much don't understand at all... i.e. "Exactly what Chelsea gets her thrills from." ;)
The two languages we learned were Croatian and Farsi. I though I would be more excited about the Farsi, but Croatian turned out to be way cooler... Which was probably because the Croatian teacher was Es BAMF. She was bold and unapologetic, which are hilarious and awesome qualities in a language teacher! Here was the dialogue in Croatian we learned:
Dobar dan!
Dobar dan!
Kako se ti zoves? /zovesh/
Ja se zovem Chelsea.
Odakle si ti?
Ja sam iz Amerike.
Kako si ti?
Ja sam dobro. 😃
Ja sam loše. 😟 /losho/
Ja sam tako tako. 😐
Koliko imaš godina?
Ja imam 23 (dvadesettri) godina.
Doviđenja!
XOXO
The two languages we learned were Croatian and Farsi. I though I would be more excited about the Farsi, but Croatian turned out to be way cooler... Which was probably because the Croatian teacher was Es BAMF. She was bold and unapologetic, which are hilarious and awesome qualities in a language teacher! Here was the dialogue in Croatian we learned:
Dobar dan!
Dobar dan!
Kako se ti zoves? /zovesh/
Ja se zovem Chelsea.
Odakle si ti?
Ja sam iz Amerike.
Kako si ti?
Ja sam dobro. 😃
Ja sam loše. 😟 /losho/
Ja sam tako tako. 😐
Koliko imaš godina?
Ja imam 23 (dvadesettri) godina.
Doviđenja!
XOXO
Day 192: Shoe Drama & Fantastical Forro
I was looking forward to it all day long. School was rather dull because I knew what was coming later would be so much better. My private lesson had been canceled, so I was able to come straight home, make some of my favorite CPK copycat bean/corn/guac dip and then go out on a little walk. It was one of those perfect after school afternoons where I felt absolutely free to do whatever I pleased with no "have tos" or "shoulds."
On my walk I came across some adorable shoes that would look perfect with all my Springtime dresses I'm about to break free from my closet at the first sign of real sunshine. ^_^ I knew it was a dangerous idea to try to wear them for the first time out dancing, but they were too cute, and so I chanced it.
I went back home, got all ready, and was out the door - looking and feeling slightly more put together than usual. ;)
Now, it HAD been over half a year since I'd worn heels... but I think the problem was more that it had been FOREVER since I'd worn heels that weren't fancy BKE, Steve Madden or some posh Italian designer. See, I don't often buy heels, but when I do, I go all out.. and it's totally worth it because they are always so comfy. And while I'd felt like I'd splurged on these ones, they were from Spain's version of a much more stylish but equal in cheapness Payless. A walk to the train, 40 minutes on the train and a walk to transfer to the metro and my feet were literally bleeding. I understand breaking in a shoe, but jeeze louise.
I knew there was no way I could even make it the rest of the way to the metro, much less through a night of dancing, so I left the station and went in desperate search of shoes - any shoes - that would make my feel feel like they weren't in a war camp. Of course, I'd taken so long hanging out on my free afternoon and getting ready that I'd totally not realized it was already 9:30 and NOTHING was open anymore... except for Corte Ingles.
Corte Ingles. How DO I describe Corte Ingles to somebody whose never in Spain? Hmm... It's pretty much the EVERYTHING department store - but generally a little higher end than normal. They have little mini stores inside of the bigger Corte Ingles - and they're all Coach, Longchamp, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, etc. They have normal priced things, too... but those sections aren't quite as large.
And so I was just hoping I could find shoes that were affordable in this huge place, because if I couldn't, I was seriously SOL.
First, of course the Corte Ingles I was at was a good six floors tall, with a very confusing store map. I had to walk all over just to find the shoes (and my feet were STILL bleeding and there was no taking my shoes off in a store like this - people were already staring at me!). When I finally found them, their shoes were gorgeous... they had shoes by Steve Madden (imported from America, mind you, so uber expensive), Hunter, Uggs, Ralph Loren, Valentino, Prada, Burburry, etc. Gorgeous eye candy. Unfortunate choices when you really need a cheap shoe and fast. >_< I hobbled as gracefully as I could, the only customer on the whole floor with at least five perfectly polished sales people staring at me, and finally came upon a pair of ballet flats for 19 euro. SAVED. Normally, ballet flats hurt my feet WAY worse than heels do (I can't explain it - they just rub me in all of the wrong ways and provide no cushion whatsoever), but I was willing to settle for anything at this point. I picked a color at random, tried them on to make sure they fit, and purchased them. I had no idea if I'd ever wear them again, but at this point, that hardly mattered. I could throw them away at the end of the night for all I cared - what mattered now was finding a secret corner in that department store and taking the evil shoes off and putting the new ones on... which is exactly what I did.
RELIEF.
As I waited for the next metro, I caught a glimpse of myself in my new shoes in the window of a passing train. Much to my surprise and delight, the shoes I'd just purchased turned out to be the exact same color combo as my new, favorite scarf - which I purchased to match my brown leather jacket. The shoes are a Tiffany blue suade with the exact leather color of my jacket lining it. ^_^ Holy awesome! I'd been in so much pain and desperation that I hadn't noticed how completely perfect and adorable they were!!! Yay!
Shoe drama aside, my night was pretty much awesome. I hadn't seen H (yes - he's graduated to a single letter in my blog - and keep in mind it must be pronounced as it would be in Brazilian Portuguese /ah.GA/ and not like /AE.ch/ - teehee) in two weeksish and I was happy to see him again - especially under the guise of a night full of forro! :) Yay!
I'd wanted to go back to that mini dance bar/club we'd gone to the first night we'd met, but a combination of not wanting to go out late on a Thursday when I'd have to wake up to teach on Friday, coupled with just plain being too chicken sh*t to ask, had allowed two whole months to go by without doing so. We'd danced a time or two in between, but it wasn't entirely the same. This little place has this really awesome live Brazilian band on a mini stage with colorful lights shining down on them and they play super great Brazilian music that everybody really gets into it. Equally as awesome is that almost everybody on the dance floor is Brazilian (and, thus, pretty awesome to watch or dance with). It seriously feels like a little slice of Brazil in a Spanish hole in the wall! ^_^ Anyway, since I'd watched "Silver Linings Playbook," I'd really been missing dance... and when I realized we'd both be gone for the next few weeks... I made up my mind to get rid of the excuses and go for it.
Best decision ever. ;)
While the first time we went I'd only danced with him, I was feeling a bit more confident (/he went and told the really good dance instructor type guys to dance with me) and danced with a bunch of Brazilians. There was one guy I'd been watching for a few dances who was really awesome to watch and did this one move that I love in West Coast Swing but had never seen in Forro. It's hard to describe (or even demonstrate), but basically it's when the lead throws off the follow's upper body balance a little, and counteracts it by doing the same himself in the opposite direction. This makes both dancers sort of roll through their abs and it looks ridiculously cool!! I purposely was watching this guy pretty closely and laughing when he'd do a cool move. I knew he'd seen me watching, but he didn't give any sort of response, so I was shocked when he came up behind me and asked me to dance! Oh, hell yeah! He was one of those rare dancers who was just as much fun to dance with as he was to watch. :) Awesome!
At little while into it all and the amazing Brazilian band announced that they would be taking an intermission break. Instead of waiting around for them to return to the stage, we walked down the street to the bar we'd first met at for a cheap beer and tapas. Um, brilliant. Don't get me wrong - dancing all night long was amazing - but this little side trip was what really made the night out so crazy unique and cool. After we walked in and got our drinks (P.S. I really like tripels now... J would be so proud... and I owe it all to my trip to Belgium!), the chill owner guy told us to come on down to the basement, because they were having a mini jam session/open mic kind of thing. He locked the bar's front door and led us down the stairs... and all of a sudden we were in a super old mini cave!
Oh holy crap.
It was the coolest underground thing I've seen in all of Madrid. It was just the tiniest room made entirely out of bricks and it felt like it had to be at least a hundred years old. It was so cold and the ceiling was arched, as the bricks cris-crossed over themselves. But it really started to get surreal when H's friend volunteered to take control of the guitar for the next twenty minutes and began playing (and singing!) Brazilian music.
O_O
Maybe it was the tripy atmosphere, or maybe it was the tripel, but for those twenty minutes with that guy and his music and all of the languages being spoken around me... I just felt like I was in some crazy scene of some alternative, indie movie. It was. Ah. Mazing.
We left before the novel appeal of it all had even begun to wear off, and we were back on the forro dance floor moving our feet crazy fast. :) I got to dance with some other Brazilians (one of whom was really great - and gave a thumbs up to H and yelled across the floor that I was actually really good - yesss!), and continued having a hoot right up until the end when it was time to go home. ^_^
I love my teaching life, my roomie/home life and my me time life... but it's really nights like these that are the cherry on top! No amount of stalling to write this post - fearing I won't do nights like these written justice - can ever be enough to express my feelings of luck and happiness!! ;oP
XOXO
On my walk I came across some adorable shoes that would look perfect with all my Springtime dresses I'm about to break free from my closet at the first sign of real sunshine. ^_^ I knew it was a dangerous idea to try to wear them for the first time out dancing, but they were too cute, and so I chanced it.
I went back home, got all ready, and was out the door - looking and feeling slightly more put together than usual. ;)
Now, it HAD been over half a year since I'd worn heels... but I think the problem was more that it had been FOREVER since I'd worn heels that weren't fancy BKE, Steve Madden or some posh Italian designer. See, I don't often buy heels, but when I do, I go all out.. and it's totally worth it because they are always so comfy. And while I'd felt like I'd splurged on these ones, they were from Spain's version of a much more stylish but equal in cheapness Payless. A walk to the train, 40 minutes on the train and a walk to transfer to the metro and my feet were literally bleeding. I understand breaking in a shoe, but jeeze louise.
I knew there was no way I could even make it the rest of the way to the metro, much less through a night of dancing, so I left the station and went in desperate search of shoes - any shoes - that would make my feel feel like they weren't in a war camp. Of course, I'd taken so long hanging out on my free afternoon and getting ready that I'd totally not realized it was already 9:30 and NOTHING was open anymore... except for Corte Ingles.
Corte Ingles. How DO I describe Corte Ingles to somebody whose never in Spain? Hmm... It's pretty much the EVERYTHING department store - but generally a little higher end than normal. They have little mini stores inside of the bigger Corte Ingles - and they're all Coach, Longchamp, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, etc. They have normal priced things, too... but those sections aren't quite as large.
And so I was just hoping I could find shoes that were affordable in this huge place, because if I couldn't, I was seriously SOL.
First, of course the Corte Ingles I was at was a good six floors tall, with a very confusing store map. I had to walk all over just to find the shoes (and my feet were STILL bleeding and there was no taking my shoes off in a store like this - people were already staring at me!). When I finally found them, their shoes were gorgeous... they had shoes by Steve Madden (imported from America, mind you, so uber expensive), Hunter, Uggs, Ralph Loren, Valentino, Prada, Burburry, etc. Gorgeous eye candy. Unfortunate choices when you really need a cheap shoe and fast. >_< I hobbled as gracefully as I could, the only customer on the whole floor with at least five perfectly polished sales people staring at me, and finally came upon a pair of ballet flats for 19 euro. SAVED. Normally, ballet flats hurt my feet WAY worse than heels do (I can't explain it - they just rub me in all of the wrong ways and provide no cushion whatsoever), but I was willing to settle for anything at this point. I picked a color at random, tried them on to make sure they fit, and purchased them. I had no idea if I'd ever wear them again, but at this point, that hardly mattered. I could throw them away at the end of the night for all I cared - what mattered now was finding a secret corner in that department store and taking the evil shoes off and putting the new ones on... which is exactly what I did.
RELIEF.
As I waited for the next metro, I caught a glimpse of myself in my new shoes in the window of a passing train. Much to my surprise and delight, the shoes I'd just purchased turned out to be the exact same color combo as my new, favorite scarf - which I purchased to match my brown leather jacket. The shoes are a Tiffany blue suade with the exact leather color of my jacket lining it. ^_^ Holy awesome! I'd been in so much pain and desperation that I hadn't noticed how completely perfect and adorable they were!!! Yay!
Shoe drama aside, my night was pretty much awesome. I hadn't seen H (yes - he's graduated to a single letter in my blog - and keep in mind it must be pronounced as it would be in Brazilian Portuguese /ah.GA/ and not like /AE.ch/ - teehee) in two weeksish and I was happy to see him again - especially under the guise of a night full of forro! :) Yay!
I'd wanted to go back to that mini dance bar/club we'd gone to the first night we'd met, but a combination of not wanting to go out late on a Thursday when I'd have to wake up to teach on Friday, coupled with just plain being too chicken sh*t to ask, had allowed two whole months to go by without doing so. We'd danced a time or two in between, but it wasn't entirely the same. This little place has this really awesome live Brazilian band on a mini stage with colorful lights shining down on them and they play super great Brazilian music that everybody really gets into it. Equally as awesome is that almost everybody on the dance floor is Brazilian (and, thus, pretty awesome to watch or dance with). It seriously feels like a little slice of Brazil in a Spanish hole in the wall! ^_^ Anyway, since I'd watched "Silver Linings Playbook," I'd really been missing dance... and when I realized we'd both be gone for the next few weeks... I made up my mind to get rid of the excuses and go for it.
Best decision ever. ;)
While the first time we went I'd only danced with him, I was feeling a bit more confident (/he went and told the really good dance instructor type guys to dance with me) and danced with a bunch of Brazilians. There was one guy I'd been watching for a few dances who was really awesome to watch and did this one move that I love in West Coast Swing but had never seen in Forro. It's hard to describe (or even demonstrate), but basically it's when the lead throws off the follow's upper body balance a little, and counteracts it by doing the same himself in the opposite direction. This makes both dancers sort of roll through their abs and it looks ridiculously cool!! I purposely was watching this guy pretty closely and laughing when he'd do a cool move. I knew he'd seen me watching, but he didn't give any sort of response, so I was shocked when he came up behind me and asked me to dance! Oh, hell yeah! He was one of those rare dancers who was just as much fun to dance with as he was to watch. :) Awesome!
At little while into it all and the amazing Brazilian band announced that they would be taking an intermission break. Instead of waiting around for them to return to the stage, we walked down the street to the bar we'd first met at for a cheap beer and tapas. Um, brilliant. Don't get me wrong - dancing all night long was amazing - but this little side trip was what really made the night out so crazy unique and cool. After we walked in and got our drinks (P.S. I really like tripels now... J would be so proud... and I owe it all to my trip to Belgium!), the chill owner guy told us to come on down to the basement, because they were having a mini jam session/open mic kind of thing. He locked the bar's front door and led us down the stairs... and all of a sudden we were in a super old mini cave!
Oh holy crap.
It was the coolest underground thing I've seen in all of Madrid. It was just the tiniest room made entirely out of bricks and it felt like it had to be at least a hundred years old. It was so cold and the ceiling was arched, as the bricks cris-crossed over themselves. But it really started to get surreal when H's friend volunteered to take control of the guitar for the next twenty minutes and began playing (and singing!) Brazilian music.
O_O
Maybe it was the tripy atmosphere, or maybe it was the tripel, but for those twenty minutes with that guy and his music and all of the languages being spoken around me... I just felt like I was in some crazy scene of some alternative, indie movie. It was. Ah. Mazing.
We left before the novel appeal of it all had even begun to wear off, and we were back on the forro dance floor moving our feet crazy fast. :) I got to dance with some other Brazilians (one of whom was really great - and gave a thumbs up to H and yelled across the floor that I was actually really good - yesss!), and continued having a hoot right up until the end when it was time to go home. ^_^
I love my teaching life, my roomie/home life and my me time life... but it's really nights like these that are the cherry on top! No amount of stalling to write this post - fearing I won't do nights like these written justice - can ever be enough to express my feelings of luck and happiness!! ;oP
XOXO
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Day 191: My Boys
Sometimes (often times) I forget I'm loved. I don't mean in some cry for help way - I cerebrally know I'm loved by my parents and by my students and by certain other people. But what I mean is, I forget that there are people (plural) who honestly I adore me, and whom I adore, too. Sometimes (oftentimes), I see myself as so different from everybody else that I can't imagine that there are people other than my parents and past significant lovers that truly think about me often and care about me and enjoy my quirks and life and company. For the most part, I feel invisible; I live so much inside my own being that I can't even grasp the idea that I appear in other people's worlds. Surely this is a sign of some sort of immaturity that I have yet to grow out of? Whatever it is, it's very real. In my mind, I am an ocean away from 95% of the people I care about and think about on a semi daily basis, so if I'm so far away, it must be an out of sight, out of mine sort of thing for other people... Right? Life is busy, and I'm never around.
Sometimes this makes me feel a little lonely, but then I remember I signed up for this lifestyle and it's all I ever dreamt about. I have friends and a Spanish family and coworkers and adorable students here. But, still... There is no way they could know me half as well as some of my friends I've had since high school. They don't know about paper plating or crazy Water World adventures or late night drives around lakes or the pie place. They haven't seen me at my lowest, and they haven't seen me in my own world. They know me as Chelsea Abroad. As perpetually happy and perky Chelsea. They've never seen the joy on my face when I am driving my car. They've never seen me devouring chocolate chip pancakes. They've never seen me at home.
There is an entire part of me - the only part of me that existed for 18-21 years - that they've never seen.
Don't get me wrong; I adore who I am right now. In fact, this is probably the happiest I've been with who I am in my whole life. I love the me I project and the me I am while abroad. I think people close to me really understand who I am.
But still - it's only the most recent layer they're seeing.
So tonight, after a few more sips of wine and chunks of dark chocolate than I would usually have, the American part of me bucked up and started talking to my five favorite boys on Facebook chat.
And words cannot express how happy it made me to talk to those boys. <3
They know me better than almost anyone, and they adore me for exactly who I am. They love how quirky and unique I am. They are proud of all that I am doing with my life. They remember everything. They care about me and love me. And, most surprisingly, they're thinking about me even when we haven't talked in ages. They're learning Spanish and planning trips and getting their passports, even when we haven't talked in months. They're following my Facebook or reading my blog, even when I assume I'm the last thing on their mind. And we can be completely open and honest and silly with each other. They not only accept me for who I am, but they adore me for who I am.
Sometimes I get so "good" at living in the present moment that I forget that there are people all over the world who would do anything for me, and me for them, no matter what country I am living in, what crazy thing I'm up to now or how long it's been since we've seen each other or talked. <3
XOXO
Sometimes this makes me feel a little lonely, but then I remember I signed up for this lifestyle and it's all I ever dreamt about. I have friends and a Spanish family and coworkers and adorable students here. But, still... There is no way they could know me half as well as some of my friends I've had since high school. They don't know about paper plating or crazy Water World adventures or late night drives around lakes or the pie place. They haven't seen me at my lowest, and they haven't seen me in my own world. They know me as Chelsea Abroad. As perpetually happy and perky Chelsea. They've never seen the joy on my face when I am driving my car. They've never seen me devouring chocolate chip pancakes. They've never seen me at home.
There is an entire part of me - the only part of me that existed for 18-21 years - that they've never seen.
Don't get me wrong; I adore who I am right now. In fact, this is probably the happiest I've been with who I am in my whole life. I love the me I project and the me I am while abroad. I think people close to me really understand who I am.
But still - it's only the most recent layer they're seeing.
So tonight, after a few more sips of wine and chunks of dark chocolate than I would usually have, the American part of me bucked up and started talking to my five favorite boys on Facebook chat.
And words cannot express how happy it made me to talk to those boys. <3
They know me better than almost anyone, and they adore me for exactly who I am. They love how quirky and unique I am. They are proud of all that I am doing with my life. They remember everything. They care about me and love me. And, most surprisingly, they're thinking about me even when we haven't talked in ages. They're learning Spanish and planning trips and getting their passports, even when we haven't talked in months. They're following my Facebook or reading my blog, even when I assume I'm the last thing on their mind. And we can be completely open and honest and silly with each other. They not only accept me for who I am, but they adore me for who I am.
Sometimes I get so "good" at living in the present moment that I forget that there are people all over the world who would do anything for me, and me for them, no matter what country I am living in, what crazy thing I'm up to now or how long it's been since we've seen each other or talked. <3
XOXO
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Day 190: Sink or Swim
In most ways I feel like I've been thrown into this teaching thing, had the door shut behind me and told to fend for myself. Sink or swim, if you will.
I've never had something that made me stretch my creativity so thoroughly and so often. I've never had something put me in a position of such power before. I've never had something put me in such a position of adoration and influence before. I've never felt like I could relate to so many people before (and how amazing is it I feel this way with kids from another country who natively speak another language?!). I've never felt like I had so much to learn before. I've also never felt so good about myself - truly proud - and successful all on my own before.
I honestly never meant to fall for this teaching thing. In some ways, it was the last thing I wanted. But that was before I realized how kinda perfect at it I could be. I always wanted a highly creative career that somehow helped people (specifically younger people when other adults couldn't understand them) and involved languages and allowed for tons of travel and living in boatloads of countries. In retrospect, it should have clicked... But I'd never seen teaching as a creative challenge until these past few months.
I had no idea how much influence I held until today when I caught my 4th grade teacher's pet copying her work off some other kid. The teacher told me to ignore it, but I refused. I made her stand for the rest of class, erased all of her work and made her stand there and redo it. She begged me in perfect English to believe her that she only copied two words and that she was sorry. At the end of class she gave me a drawing she'd been working on to further apologize. And that's when I realized I've past the point with some of these kids of just being another adult, and have entered the realm of them wanting to make me proud of them. O_o With the little ones, sure. But today I also had three 11th graders ask for my approval of their article they'd clearly worked hard on to impress me. Their expectant faces watched my expression as I read their assignment and I had a hard time focusing on their writing, as all I could wonder was, "When did this happen?!"
Even more curious to me is how invested in some of them I have truly become. I used to think when adults said they were disappointed, they just did it to make them feel like shit - but the secret this whole time has been that adults literally DO get disappointed in children! I always refer to my students in my head as "tiny people," because that's just how I see them. And the disappointment comes in because these tiny people are still in the process of growing into who they are to ultimately become... So when they so something that points to a flaw that could become a part of their identity down the road, it makes a tiny part of a tiny heart inside of me break. "No! Not you! Not like that!" I want to cry out. And suddenly that comment, "You're better than that!" makes so much sense to me. :-/
But one of the things that sets me so far apart from other teachers is a part of me is still so much a kid. In high school we once read this short story about how you are like an onion and you are still the 22 year old and and 18 year old and 14 year old and 10 year old and 6 year old you... And in think I truly am this way. I can see a kid's expression and I can remember exactly what I felt like at that age when I had that expression on my face. I can still talk to all the younger Chelseas that make up who I am today, and they can talk back - which is an exquisite tool for a teacher to posses! :)
Another thing about this teaching thing? I feel like it is a whole separate part of me that nobody knows. It's a whole new dimension that is almost a secret, but is such a deep part of me that I am so proud of. I used to feel empty after I came home from certain jobs, but I hardly ever feel that way after coming home for school. And I hardly ever have a moment to feel bad about myself, because all I have to do is think about the last compliment or smile or drawing one of my 250 students gave me, and I realize how much more clever they are than anybody else whose opinion I could possibly be fretting over. ;)
So no, I didn't mean to fall in love with this teaching thing... But I'm afraid it might be starting to happen... And I admit, the next thing I expected to fall in love with was a boy - not a career - but they all carry the same rules. As long as I am free to be exactly who I want to be and live the exact dream vie always dreamt of living... As long as I feel really good about myself at the end of the day and feel truly appreciated for who I am and what I do... Then it's a love that can stay - no matter how unexpected it might have been. ;)
XOXO
I've never had something that made me stretch my creativity so thoroughly and so often. I've never had something put me in a position of such power before. I've never had something put me in such a position of adoration and influence before. I've never felt like I could relate to so many people before (and how amazing is it I feel this way with kids from another country who natively speak another language?!). I've never felt like I had so much to learn before. I've also never felt so good about myself - truly proud - and successful all on my own before.
I honestly never meant to fall for this teaching thing. In some ways, it was the last thing I wanted. But that was before I realized how kinda perfect at it I could be. I always wanted a highly creative career that somehow helped people (specifically younger people when other adults couldn't understand them) and involved languages and allowed for tons of travel and living in boatloads of countries. In retrospect, it should have clicked... But I'd never seen teaching as a creative challenge until these past few months.
I had no idea how much influence I held until today when I caught my 4th grade teacher's pet copying her work off some other kid. The teacher told me to ignore it, but I refused. I made her stand for the rest of class, erased all of her work and made her stand there and redo it. She begged me in perfect English to believe her that she only copied two words and that she was sorry. At the end of class she gave me a drawing she'd been working on to further apologize. And that's when I realized I've past the point with some of these kids of just being another adult, and have entered the realm of them wanting to make me proud of them. O_o With the little ones, sure. But today I also had three 11th graders ask for my approval of their article they'd clearly worked hard on to impress me. Their expectant faces watched my expression as I read their assignment and I had a hard time focusing on their writing, as all I could wonder was, "When did this happen?!"
Even more curious to me is how invested in some of them I have truly become. I used to think when adults said they were disappointed, they just did it to make them feel like shit - but the secret this whole time has been that adults literally DO get disappointed in children! I always refer to my students in my head as "tiny people," because that's just how I see them. And the disappointment comes in because these tiny people are still in the process of growing into who they are to ultimately become... So when they so something that points to a flaw that could become a part of their identity down the road, it makes a tiny part of a tiny heart inside of me break. "No! Not you! Not like that!" I want to cry out. And suddenly that comment, "You're better than that!" makes so much sense to me. :-/
But one of the things that sets me so far apart from other teachers is a part of me is still so much a kid. In high school we once read this short story about how you are like an onion and you are still the 22 year old and and 18 year old and 14 year old and 10 year old and 6 year old you... And in think I truly am this way. I can see a kid's expression and I can remember exactly what I felt like at that age when I had that expression on my face. I can still talk to all the younger Chelseas that make up who I am today, and they can talk back - which is an exquisite tool for a teacher to posses! :)
Another thing about this teaching thing? I feel like it is a whole separate part of me that nobody knows. It's a whole new dimension that is almost a secret, but is such a deep part of me that I am so proud of. I used to feel empty after I came home from certain jobs, but I hardly ever feel that way after coming home for school. And I hardly ever have a moment to feel bad about myself, because all I have to do is think about the last compliment or smile or drawing one of my 250 students gave me, and I realize how much more clever they are than anybody else whose opinion I could possibly be fretting over. ;)
So no, I didn't mean to fall in love with this teaching thing... But I'm afraid it might be starting to happen... And I admit, the next thing I expected to fall in love with was a boy - not a career - but they all carry the same rules. As long as I am free to be exactly who I want to be and live the exact dream vie always dreamt of living... As long as I feel really good about myself at the end of the day and feel truly appreciated for who I am and what I do... Then it's a love that can stay - no matter how unexpected it might have been. ;)
XOXO
Monday, March 11, 2013
Day 189: Down the Rabbit Hole: A Personal Philosophy on Bilingual Education
** I've been writing nonstop for four hours to complete my final paper for my class in Fundamentals of Bilingual Education. No creative juice remains in my fingertips to write a blog entry at this time. And so, I hope you enjoy my nine page essay, instead. ;) **
Downthe Rabbit Hole: A Personal Philosophy on Bilingual Education
Theoriesand philosophies are wonderful things. They provide people with aconcrete idea as to how to go about something, and this is trulyinvaluable. But one key thing theories and philosophies often arelacking is imagination, creativity and wonder. Theorists andphilosophers can find themselves so bogged down in the studies, thestatistics and the logic behind it all that they forget the mostimportant thing: the magic to inspire students down the proverbiallinguistic rabbit hole.
Arabbit hole is a wonderful thing that opens new perspectives andpossibilities and indeed learning a language should be no differentthan Alice's experience of going down the rabbit hole. The experienceof learning a new language should be so thrilling and adventurous,that students cannot help but want to delve in further. At the sametime, not only should bilingual education be a sort of enchantedadventure, but it should be taken into serious account that inteaching a student a new language, one is effectively creating awhole other individual with a separate personality and world view.
Indeed, a Czech Proverb declares, “Learn a new language and get anew soul.” It is thus imperative to inspire students to makethemselves vulnerable and motivated enough to embark on such ajourney through a vast, unknown linguistic world, all whilediscovering and shaping a part of themselves they never before knewexisted – literally. In fact, this is not a mere whimsicalbelief, but a concept that has been researched and proven. In "DoBilinguals Have Two Personalities? A Special Case of Cultural FrameSwitching," as published in the Journal of Research inPersonality, researchers make a strong case that yes, along with asecond language, comes an autonomous personality. As the studyconcluded that:
“...[thereis] the tendency of bi-cultural individuals (i.e., people who haveinternalized two cultures, such as bilinguals) to change theirinterpretations of the world, depending upon their internalizedcultures, in response to cues in their environment (e.g., language,cultural icons). The results from the present series of studiessuggest that CFS can be primed with something as subtle as thelanguage, and can affect not only their attributions or values, butalso their personality.” (Gosling)
Thus,it can be seen that bilingual teachers are not only teaching studentsa second language, but also a new perspective and a new part ofthemselves! What a responsibility bilingual teachers have, but alsowhat an opportunity to expand their student's worlds!
Myphilosophy has been formulated on personal experience – both as astudent who has studied six languages over the past 14 years in bothacademic and non-academic settings, and as a teacher who has taughtEnglish in formal and informal academic settings for the past fouryears. My philosophy is also formulated on main ideas fromdual-language bilingualism, as practiced by JOYLOVE as well asimmersion bilingualism, as defined by Stephen Krashen.
Iam fully aware that my bilingual philosophy may be ridiculed forcoming across as a rather “new age,” in the sense that Buddhistvirtues, youthful thinking, creativity, humor and whimsy are at thecenter of my philosophy, but I to these skeptics I would merely sayto go to a classroom and compare the students who are receiving a“traditional” bilingual education, replete with pedanticexercises and teachers yelling at them to speak in the targetlanguage, with the students in my classrooms, who are happily havingfun with projects, games, songs and dances, speaking automatically inEnglish at every chance they get, and then ridicule it.
The thing is,traditionally students have been greatly underestimated, and so hasthe power of thinking outside the box. And that is precisely whatthis philosophy seeks to change.
Expertand theorist Stephen Krashen asserts that, “language acquisitiondoes not require extensive use of conscious grammatical rules, anddoes not require tedious drill" (Schutz). While all of theteachers I teach with at my current school certain gave me a weirdlook when I began implementing my philosophy in their classrooms byridding the classes of these rules and drills, six months later I amhearing that they used my presence in their school as their mainselling point at their last parent meeting in which parents wereasked to renew their children's enrollment in the private school forthe coming year!
Theschool I work at is a private bilingual school whose parents payupwards of 650 euro per month in hopes of their children becomingbilingual by the time the graduate. The school works under the guiseof strict immersion, and the only two classes the students take thataren't in English are Math and Spanish Language. It is my experiencethat the success of the immersion program at my school is directlyproportional to each teacher's attitude towards the theory, as wellas their comfort with the English language.
Forexample, the 1-3rdgrade teachers both have spouses whose native language is English,and thus they are used to speaking English every day and see thevalue intrinsic in it. Their classrooms operate in English only, andstudents who disobey the rule will find themselves sitting insideduring recess copying this sentence fifty times: “I will only speakEnglish in the classroom.” Because of the teacher's devotion to theimmersion setting, the students – some of whom spoke a handful ofEnglish words on the first day – can now carry on fullconversations on a variety of topics with seemingly little effort. Inthe other classrooms of the school, however, teachers motivationseems to be lacking, and thus the students' motivation is, as well. Ifind the success of the 1-3rdgrade students to be very telling and have made my philosophy heavilybased upon the idea of immersion, but the one main thing I wouldtweak with the way my school carries it out is in having such severepunishments for students who do not use the language.
Thisis where Tzu Chi Great Love Bilingual Preschool and Elementaryschool's philosophy becomes a key component of my own; Tzu Chimethodology states that students will never be “forced” intospeaking the target language, but instead will be gently lead in thedirection of doing so over a period of time (Tzu Chi). At the heartof bilingual immersion philosophies is the idea that one best learnsa language in as natural of a way as possible, just as babies learn alanguage. Yet punishing a child for not speaking the target languageat the right time does nothing to enforce comfort and confidence inthe target language, but instead discourages the student fromcommunication – which is, over all, extremely unnatural. One wouldnever punish or ignore a baby for using baby language to communicate,but instead one would patiently repeat the item of communication forthe toddler to hear and learn. At the center of Tzu Chi's philosophyis the belief in holding virtues such as respect and patience asparamount in a student's life and education, which brings me to thefirst guiding principle of my personal bilingual philosophy: Teachingthe value of virtues as a intrinsic part of bilingual learning.
Beforestudents can be introduced to the edge of the Rabbit Hole, they mustfirst begin to learn the importance of virtues such as love, respect,trust, patience, accountability, awe, compassion, courage, gratitude,generosity, honesty, humility, perseverance, tolerance andenthusiasm. Not only must they be taught these virtues, but thesevirtues must be modeled and upheld by their teacher. The journey ofbilingual learning is so delicate in nature that students must feelabsolutely comfortable, safe and confident before they are adequatelyprepared to embark on the journey.
Thisbrings us to the philosophies of Stephen Krashen, an expert andtheorist in the field of language acquisition and development. Heunderscores the importance of safety and security in the bilingualclassroom, stating that the first thing students need to learn a newlanguage is a clear lack of fear. Krashen further opines that:
"Thebest methods are those that supply 'comprehensible input' in lowanxiety situations, containing messages that students really want tohear. These methods do not force early production in the secondlanguage, but allow students to produce when they are 'ready',recognizing that improvement comes from supplying communicative andcomprehensible input, and not from forcing and correcting production”(Schutz).
Krashenonce again supports the idea of not forcing students in any way, butinstead in letting them explore and become comfortable with thelanguage on their own time and in their own way. Of course, a key wayto easing student's transition to their new language is to makecertain that they're being taught and modeled the virtues as listedabove. The consequences for not creating a safe classroom can bedevastating, even if all of the other aspects of the philosophy arein place.
Aglaring example of such a travesty can be found at my school wherethere is an English instructor who not only doesn't teach thesevalues, but goes against each one herself on a daily basis. Everyclass period she screams at the children, disrespects them, tellsthem they're bad, humiliates them in front of their peers, blamesthem for stressing her out to the point of getting physically ill,yells that she has given up on them, etc. It comes as no surprisethat her classes continue to be the worst behaved classes in theschool, with the worst grades, despite the fact they are provided thesame materials as the rest of the school, who are all excelling. Atfirst I thought this was their fault, but then one day the teachercalled in sick and I was asked to teach all of her classes for themorning.
WhileI was nervous about taking on this seemingly awful class on my own, Iwas intrigued at the possibility that maybe they weren't as bad asthey seemed, but rather perhaps they were merely responding to whatwas modeled for them? I was stunned when I walked in to the firstclass and they were all sitting at their desks, books open, pencil inhand, smiling up at me and waiting for their instructions. Somethinglike this would have absolutely never happened had their usualteacher been there; they would have been running around, screamingand causing disruptions. By the end of three classes just like this,all of the students were asking if I could be their permanent teacherfrom now on, because I was funny and very nice to them.
Thestudents informed me their normal teacher treated them like adictator and they hated it. And they weren't being overly-dramatic,either. I'd seen her throwing books across the room and screaming,punishing the whole class with no recess for a week because ofsomething just one student had done, telling them they were stupid.Basically, they received no respect, no patience, no compassion, nogenerosity, no humility, no perseverance, no tolerance, no enthusiasmand certainly no love from this teacher - and it had completelystunted their English learning and levels.
Itwas then that I realized just how crucial virtues are in theclassroom - any classroom, of course, but especially in the bilingualclassroom. In a bilingual classroom students are being asked to doamazing things - to expand their mind and spirit into anotherlinguistic realm! If a teacher cannot create a nurturing atmospherefor their students to do such a thing in, then all of the grammardrills and amazing theories in the world will never get the studentsto really learn and grasp the language. Further more, the other thingthat became glaringly obvious after teaching those classes that daywas the importance of seeing things from the perspective of thestudents.
Oneof my most influential teachers I've ever had seemed to her studentsto have a magical power: the power of truly understanding us. Sheknew just as well as we did that the bookwork was more than dull andthe grammar rules were pedantic and tricky, and so she'd often go offbook and do crazy things. She'd make up catchy songs to quicklymemorize irregular verbs in various tenses and quiz us on the songsrather than on regurgitating the dry grammar rules. I still singthose songs to myself 13 years later when I have a doubt, and theystill work as amazing well as they did when I was 11! In addition, weall were encouraged to talk Spanish in (and out) of class, and wereoffered bonus points and a trip to the “dulce” jar if we wereespecially talkative. She always threw us “fiestas” at the end ofchapter tests we all passed, and would have us listen to cool songsin Spanish and have competitions to see how many lyrics we couldunderstand and transcribe. At the time, I just she was just a reallyfun teacher, I had no idea that what she was doing was secretlysetting me up for copious amounts of polyglot success in the future!
Shehad made Spanish seem like such a playful game that when I went to myinterview at my private high school and was informed the Spanishteacher would be sitting in on it, I nonchalantly answered herquestions (posed in English) in Spanish, just because I enjoyed usingthe language and thought it might make her smile. Not only did itmake her smile, but I was accepted into the school and placed in APSpanish as a Freshman, despite not testing into that level by a longshot! It was my comfortableness with speaking the language – riddenwith errors, of course – that convinced the teacher I should beplaced as a 9th grader with all Juniors and Seniors. Forthe first two months I felt like I could barely stay afloat, but bythe end of the year I had the second highest grade in her class andgot a 4 on the AP exam.
Itwas my middle school teacher's rapport with her students that madeher such a successful teacher. We never felt talked down to, like wedid with other teachers. Instead, she seemed to understand us. It wasdue in large part to this that we had no problem feeling comfortableenough in her classroom to try our hand at speaking Spanish. It wasalso due to the fact she made even the most difficult thing so muchfun. She truly made learning an exciting adventure which we werealways more than willing to embark on because we knew how much funwe'd have each class.
InAntoine de Saint Exupery's book, “The Little Prince,” the maincharacter – a young boy from a distant asteroid – declares that,“grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it istiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things tothem.” I cannot count the times I felt this way as a student, norof the times I see students at my school feeling this way,themselves. And it truly weakens the bilingual classroom's chance atsuccess. This is one thing my Spanish teacher had figured out: how toremember what it was like to be a kid and how to be on their level.It is thus my contention that for a bilingual classroom to trulythrive, a teacher must never, ever forget what it is like to be onthe other side of that desk. Too many instructors bark rules andinstructions at their students, pile on the busy work, yell at themto speak English, to have better handwriting, to stop makingmistakes.
Simply put, too many instructors take the wonder out oflearning a second language, which is such a shame, because learninganother language has the true potential, as seen previously, toliterally create another world and personality inside each and everystudent. By being on a student's level, you can truly make theexperience magical and implant vocabulary and grammar rules andexpressions abound without them ever realizing how sneaky you'rebeing, just as my teacher did with all of her silly songs that havesince made my command over irregular Spanish verbs almost perfect!
Thisleads me to my final aspect of my personal bilingual philosophy: theimportance of creativity – absurd, outrageous, hilariouscreativity. A bilingual teacher should be a whimsical guide throughthe land of an uncharted second language, and the only way to do sois to become over the top and think as far outside of the box aspossible. One way I do this in my classroom is to take big class-widemade mistakes and make them hilarious by giving them outrageousliteral translations for what they are actually saying. For example,last week I taught the difference between the pronunciation of“burger” and “booger” by attempting to eat my own booger.Students laughed really hard, but I can guarantee not one of them hasmade the mistake since.
Similarly, I took student's use of “... shehas two years...” instead of “... she is two years old...” andinformed them that when one is at the doctor's office and the doctortells them that the only “have two years,” it means that they'regoing to die in two years. I then asked each one how old their petwas, and when one would use the verb “to have,” I would gasp andstart to pretend to cry, asking them what was wrong with their pooranimal. This made the class laugh hysterically, once again, and, onceagain, the mistake has never been repeated since that day. In myexperience as a student and a teacher, when students are able tolaugh, instead of feel embarrassed or, worse, bored, they areexceedingly more likely to remember a concept or a correction.
Anotherway in which creativity is important is in projects, portfolios andassessments. Too much of some bilingual programs focus themselves onbookwork, rules, vocab lists and exams. This cycle of learning alanguage can quickly become nauseating and students can quickly loseinterest – not to mention retain alarmingly little of what they aresupposed to be learning. By providing them with relatively real lifeuses and examples of the language, students are able to once againsee if as a Rabbit Hole full of wonder and adventure. Stephen Krashenasserts that, “Acquisition requires meaningful interaction in thetarget language - natural communication - in which speakers areconcerned not with the form of their utterances but with the messagesthey are conveying and understanding.” Through providing studentswith creative speaking, listening, writing and reading activities,students will learn to see the language as a sum of its parts, ratherthan a list of boring material.
Furthermore, by assessing studentsthrough creative assessments – such as listening assessmentsthrough music, movies, ads, etc.; speaking assessments through roleplays, discussions and games; writing assessments through letters,reports and proposals; reading assignments through songs, interestingpassages, websites, etc. - one is not only testing to see theirlevel, but testing to see how well they would be able to functionwith the language in the real world. Too often exams become aboutscores and not about testing knowledge and real-world abilities, andmaintaining a sense of wonder in the student and teacher is nevergoing to succeed by continuing to implement such a backwards way ofassessing students.
Ibelieve that when one teaches another a second language to anystudent – young or old, gifted or with special needs - they are notjust teaching them grammar and vocabulary, but rather they areopening their student up to a whole new universe and, at the sametime, introducing them to a whole new side to themselves that theynever dreamed existed by effectively guiding them to and down thatlinguistic and cultural rabbit hole. And the best way to providestudents with the safety, understanding and whimsy needed to embarkon such a journey is in delicately interweaving immersion, virtues,youthful perspectives and extreme creativity.
AlthoughI have only had the opportunity to test the bounds of my personalbilingual philosophy for the past half of a year, I can say withcomplete confidence that I am already amazed by the progress made bymy 250 students. Every day they jump up and down when it is time forEnglish class, every recess they run up to me to tell me the latestabout their lives – always in fluent (not perfect, but fluent)English and every day they grow as people, English speakers andbilingual learners. Their teachers and parents have personallythanked me for the adventure I put in their day and for how muchthey've learned – seemingly without having even begun to realize itthemselves! I cannot wait to continue to explore and learn fromothers and further develop my own personal bilingual theory. But, inthe mean time, I am incredibly happy with all that it hasaccomplished for me and my students thus far – as crazy and strangeas is may have at first come across to others! Sometimes, you justhave to take a risk and try something new, knowing that yourenthusiasm will be contagious and success will be achieved throughyour hard work.
WorksCited
Gosling, Samuel.Ramírez-Esparza, Nairan. Benet-Martínez, Verónica. Potter,JeVrey.
Pennebaker,James. “Do bilinguals have two personalities? A special
case of cultural frameswitching.” Journal of Research in Personality. November 21, 2004.
Schutz,Ricardo. “StephenKrashen's Theory of Second Language Acquisition.” July 2, 2007.http://www.sk.com.br/sk-krash.html
“TzuChi Great Love Elementary School.” http://elementary.us.tzuchi.org/elementary/home.nsf/home/index
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