What is a Grade One English Class Like?

I realize that many times I tend to gloss over the details of my classes. I am at this five days a week, which adds up to a lot of classes to cover; furthermore, I think all my students and every class is special and therefore deserving of the full Blair blog treatment. However, I feel it may be beneficial to detail one of today's classes because it was a big day for all concerned.

Japanese schools often have days set aside for parents, teachers, or administrators to come and watch class. This is because they feel it is important to see what the atmosphere inside the classroom is like. I don't want to get off topic about my opinions on this practice, but I will state the obvious; that once you stick twenty or thirty strangers inside a classroom with the students you no longer have a natural atmosphere, but rather a lot of nervous energy. To continue, today was one of those days: In the afternoon about thirty parents watched their children's' English class at Shikaoi Elementary School.

The topic of today's class was "like" and "don't like". Part of the class, near the beginning, was set aside to introduce some of my likes. Nothing too deep; I like reading Canadian non-fiction, I like traveling with my family in Asia. Just the basic stuff. I have been keeping aside an ace-in-the-hole activity for just such an occasion. It's very simple. Just take a large bag or box with a question mark on the side and randomly (and dramatically) pull stuff out; the children will be enthralled. And indeed it all went off without a hitch.

Beforehand I had gone around my house collecting some odds and ends for this activity. Things I like: my sunglasses, my books, my water bottle (everyone sees me with it), my scarf, my music (represented by my headphones), and cooking (represented by a very special spatula). I am apprehensive about the level of detail so I will error, this time, on too much. This particular grade one class has an interesting quirk of raising their hands to answer questions even though no question has been posed. I have no idea what is going through their heads, but once it starts they all do it. (Normally bringinf a smile to my face.) Needless to say, these kids are crazy about questions, so I held up the box with the question mark and asked, in English, what's inside? Today, monkey was a popular answer; one of the older, more mature, boys, with thought this was ridiculous and suggested a smallish monkey.

Okay, time to start holding the stuff up. One by one I slowly took out the objects in the box, commenting on it by saying "I like..." Children love this; all of them wound tight, ready to spring at the next surprise. Every single instance illiciting a very big "ooooooOOOOOOoooooo" from the students. Putting on the sunglasses inside was too much for some, causing one student to jump to his feet and shriek in disbelief, "He's wearing sunglasses inside!" No really - everyone was in stitches for this activity.

We sometimes like to include the observers in the class because it can be good practice. It's nice to switch things up so the kids can ask others, beside ourselves, for conversational practice. So the kids got an interview sheet (with pictures) and they had to ask the various mothers and observers present if they like such-and-such. Now, I know I have previously said that my students are friendly, but under certain conditions this can change. The first question was easiest because most students ran and asked their parent. But the second time you'd think they were dropped off at a different school. So one must gently encourage them to ask again. Different techniques are required for this. Many ask if they can just ask you for the answers to fill in the sheet, but you have to explain that it has to be the moms and sort of push them in that direction. I had a couple of kids just go limp, like a noodle, in my arms while directing them back to the side of the room with the observers. It's a completely unfounded reaction simply because in a small community like Shikaoi, all the different mothers know the kids; but alas, this puts me in one of the trickiest situations you can have while teaching. (You may think I mean discipline, but my life here is far too sunny and happy, and my kids too great, for a need of that). Basically, with a limp kid in your arms any quick movement on your part and the child - and soon thereafter children - will think you are playing a game with them (like tag, only for more nonsensically) and just start running around, leaving a carefully planned activity in ruins.

All my students were immensely proud of their work - as they should be - and are constantly running back to me to present their next small achievement (of one more question answered) for my approval. I react with (honest, though dramatic) amazement. Perhaps there is something to the whole notion of positive re-enforcement or perhaps because I have yet to fully realize the power I hold over my students, but they like nothing more than to ask who they should do next. I reply that I want them to find someone that likes ice cream, horses, dogs, or tomatoes, etc., and off they run. Soon they are back, proudly showing me the evidence (this is how I nearly lost an eye today) and I send them off again. This is not the quickest nor the most efficient way to do it, but soon enough all the students forget their initial shyness (because everyone is doing it) and soon they are all returning with completed sheets.

This is only a short snap shot of what I do on a daily basis. Sorry for the lack images. If you think it sounds fun, you bet. Funny too? Heck yeah. Satisfying? Certainly. Want my job? Never! Exhausting? Absolutely, this is why I go to bed at 9 o'clock on Fridays.