SURVIVING MONDAYS

Monday mornings should be banned worldwide, I've never liked them. They start with a complete denial and finally resignation. My reason is not an original version of it, it's not any different from everyone else's, it is of course breaking with the natural mini-hibernation period that lasts from late Friday to early Monday morning. Only now I have one of the most difficult jobs on the planet: being a teacher.

Since I arrived in the Caribbean, I can't say how many times I have thought of my own teachers when I was growing up and felt incredible guilty for not being nicer, bringing more gifts and giving more words of encouragement to all my teachers. You might say that is not rocket science, you'll probably be right, but you have such a tremendous responsibility not only to deliver your own, personal class, but to make children interested in learning so they won't quit school in the future, to keep children busy and entertained so they don't think of the next thing they are going to break apart, to give children love and attention without forgetting discipline. I know what you are thinking, sounds just like being a parent, you are right! Only a parent (at least the ones I know) doesn't have to take care of 20 to 40 sons and daughters in a small, inclosed room for 8 hours, keep them quiet, entertained, happy and interested all at the same time!

So this incredibly difficult job is now performed by no other than me. I'll tell you, I have found levels of patience I didn't think were possible. You think adults don't like Mondays, wait till you have a classroom packed with thirty tiny, sweaty, 7 year-olds, that's something! They get worse as they get older though, specially if you are not a very tall or scary looking teacher. I've had 3 fights break up in the same class at the same time and managed to sit through it. But those are of course the bad days. On the good days, kids behave, they actually learn something, at the end of the class say, "Adiós, amigos" -nobody has been able to explain why they ALWAYS say this two words together, must be like a Spanish trademark, it got really annoying at one point but now I've gotten used to it- and give me dozens of little stains from their hugs and kisses as I leave the classroom during lunch time.

No one said that it was going to be easy or that everyone can do it, but I wanted to try the real thing. When I was growing up, I went through phases where I was convinced that I wanted to be a teacher. I even had my own students, my little guinea pigs -alas my brother and sister, ages 3 and 5 at the time- and taught them how to read. That's the popular version of the events, but as I'm writing this I think that it may be an exagerated story on how I taught them to place the magnetic letters in the Sessame Street magnetic board to spell their names. Point being, I wanted the job, I wanted to try and after posing as a Spanish teacher for adults and a typing teacher with 3 kids at a time for a few hours once a week I was ready, or so I thought. After almost 4 months of "training" I went in. Only 10 hours a week, almost 200 students ages 5 to 12, and a subject I couldn't be more confortable in, Spanish, it seemed like everything was on my side. What people don't tell you about being a teacher is that it doesn't matter if you are smart, or funny, or pretty, being a teacher is ALL about the attitude. Children have a sixth sense for your mood and if its not the right one, they'll make it worse. They can see right through you. So you can't just show up for work, you have to be energized, possitive, patient and determined, and it has to show. So basically, you always have to be at your best, 100%, or they will take control.

Now when you want to make a 5 year-old speak Spanish, you have to teach him a song. It's like a rule. Nothing could be easier, children songs are funny and entertaining, that of course depends on who's singing. I can tell you is not what it seems. Picture yourself in a room full of people all trying to get your attention, while you are trying to sing very, very loudly, almost yelling, words that they don't understand and can't pronounce, AND keep tuned. One word: impossible.

The school term is almost over and I can't help to think that parents have very powerful imaginations. They seem to believe that there is a magical place where they can send their children and there they can be transformed. More so, they can send the children AND some of their toys to this place for a complete make-over with no distractions. This place is of course, the magical school. I have yet to try the experienced of being yelled by an angry customer of the magical school, but I've seen it and is not a pretty site. Once the ugly episode with the parent is over, the hard part begins, how do you control a new empowered little person who thinks you are the enemy? That is something that I wish I will never have to figure out. For now, I will be happy if I can survive Mondays, get a polite little girl to tell me that they have enjoyed my class very much once in a while, and as I walk out the gate get the official "Adiós, amigos" from a few smiling faces.