Satisfaction of a job well DONE

Last Thursday was my last day teaching in my schools. And I was, sadly, just relieved. Even though I knew from the start that teaching small children wasn’t my truc, not my thing, I had hoped to like it a little. I mean, I was very lucky to have the wonderful and welcoming team at JF. I made some friends and had a great time talking to some of them. PA/B is just a different story (a few good experiences would be the exception to the indifference I felt there).

I don’t hate children. I don’t. I hate children when they outnumber me 15 to 1. I know that “real” teachers (who I respect oh so much) have classrooms of 20 or 30 all day, every day. But there’s one small difference that I’ve been trying to keep in teachers’ minds since day one: I am not a teacher. I’m not certified and I had 4 days of training. I’m an assistant.

Even though the assistantship program is quite old, nobody seems to be used to the idea. The principle is that uncertified Anglophones can come to France to teach French children or teens to expose them to the right accent and to share our culture. The uncertified part isn’t supposed to be a problem (at least for 7-month assistants) because in theory, we’re either supposed to be with the whole class with the teacher, or take small groups. I never looked it up, but I’m not so sure that 17 counts as a small group.

Yet, I sympathize. I’m sure how else it would have worked, since only one or two teachers in the school are qualified to give their own English lessons.

So, I was the Prof d’anglais in one school, and spread thinner than a crêpe at the other. I went to 13 classes a week, but didn’t see the same kids every week. So, I “taught” English to total of more than 300 kids. Remembering names was a nightmare and connecting with the kids was downright impossible.

Before starting this job, I talked to my teacher friend Heather about my worries. Number one was discipline. I was afraid of the kids walking all over me. And I was right. They didn’t see me as their teacher. So, I had to yell. Despite some mistakes, I’ve learned to lecture in French. As my sister-in-law elegantly put it, I was a BA (and no, that doesn’t mean Bachelor of Arts like I thought at first). I sent misbehaving children to the hall or back to class and didn’t blink when they started to cry.

However, I didn’t spend all my time yelling or perfecting my “classroom” French. I did teach some English. We sang and played games. And I encouraged kids. The names of the particularly bad students were easy to remember and I learned to praise them when they started to improve in English. Or when they learned how to listen to a song without starting to drag themselves around on the floor. That must be one of the best parts of teaching- seeing a kid become proud of himself after you tell him he’s improving.

I really wish I could have been with SMALL groups and had seen the same kids more frequently. I really feel that I would have been able to make a bigger impact, and they would have been able to progress more. But, when every class, starting from 1^st grade, has to have English, and there’s just one of me, that wasn’t possible.

Was it a total flop? Well, no. Some class sessions certainly were. And I didn’t come close to getting through the curriculum.

The CP/CE1 (1^st/2^nd grade) class- I swear they’re the fastest learners- at JF still sings Blue like the sea by heart. Ok, they don’t actually know all the words, but they will never forget their colors! And it was a very rewarding moment when Ali came up to me and said, “Hello. My name’s Ali. I’m 7.”

And at PA, in one of my CE1 classes (one that I saw every week), the kids can kind of express themselves- almost independently. They can say that they like spaghetti and that they don’t like snakes.

I had to lower my expectations to keep from going insane or being too hard on myself or the kids. I don’t mean that I suck or that they’re stupid. I just had really high expectations and wasn’t being realistic. And I didn’t understand kids. So, I’ve learned to be more realistic (and maybe l’Éducation Nationale should too) and having realistic goals helped.

Thursday was my last day. I had a wonderful party at JF, and, well some of the people at PA/B remembered it was my last day and said goodbye. But here’s what’s more important: the kids were sad to see me go. Because I’m a pushover and English is second recess? Maybe some of them. But, others…well I'll just let you read it for yourself.

Yacine drew his class, or maybe just his favorite classmates. "Big kisses" is a literal translation of the French expression "Gros Bisous." It's equivalent to hugs and kisses, or xoxoxoxo. The second is "Kety, I love you." I told you about my name!

Valentine says "Goodbye Cathy. Big kiss." Samantha says, well a lot, but it includes a thank you for the lessons.

This one just cracks me up. "We are going to miss you. You were a real English teacher (who was American)! Have a nice vacation." It's also fun for me to correct their FRENCH mistakes. That should be bonnes vacances.

This sweet letter is from Wendy (her English class name). "For the best English teacher (that's me!). When you came to France I knew right away that you were nice and that your classes would be good and I was right. I'm sad that you're leaving but I think that we'll see each other again (when I go to the US :) ). Goodbye and maybe I'll see you soon. From the bottom of my heart, Wendy."

I think this earns me the right to check something off my list.