A few weeks ago a professor from my school emailed me asking for updates about how I am doing and details on what I am feeling about my experience so far. She is the person who encouraged me to apply for the Fulbright and mentored me throughout my application process, reading and re-reading my essays, providing insight, criticism, and endless support. (She is also the professor whose class, which I took early on in college career, kicked my butt and pushed me to be a better student and helped me develop my voice in my writing.) After sending her a fairly long email about my thoughts, feelings, and experiences, I received her reply this morning. Two things she said really stuck out to me as things I need to keep in mind during the second half of this journey:
1. “Just think of this as a time to learn learn learn about another culture and education system instead of a time to actually teach…”
2. "I’m rooting for you!”
The first thing, about shifting my perspective about what my time here actually means, is something I have been forced to constantly do since my arrival. Before coming here I was pretty nervous to be responsible for high school student’s English education for an entire school year. I had never been a teacher in a formal classroom setting before. I even wrote a blog post earlier in the year about how I have never wanted to be a teacher. But honestly I have not really been teaching that much. Sure, I assist and lead lessons in the classroom almost every day, but I do not think that when I leave the memory that the students I have worked with will have of me will be connected to a specific lesson. And I have no tangible proof that any of the lessons that I have taught by myself have stuck with any of the students. This is partly because the times I am teaching my own lessons have no real schedule or repetitiveness and therefore it does not allow time for me to review or check understanding the following day, and also because students know I am not teaching them things that will specifically be on their exams and therefore do not make effort to remember the lessons. This is definitely a double edge sword that cuts through any chance I have at effectively teaching anything.
What is really interesting about having this realization—that I do not have a set class that I can regularly teach lessons I have created in a coherent pattern—is that actually want that experience. (I can hear my family’s collective “we told you so” now.) While I am still convinced that being an educator is not something I would want to continue to do for the rest of my days, this time as an ETA has taught me that I do want to be an actual teacher, at least for a while.
For now though I need to let go of that desire and focus on this identity I am currently claiming. I am, in most ways, a student. This entire region of the world is my classroom and I need to take in as much as I can. That means asking more questions, stewing in the discomfort, and trying to make sense of it all, instead of taking things personally. I came into this experience without many expectations of what my time will be like but after being here for a while I realize that I have been building up so many expectations through comparison with other ETA’s stories. Short of cutting off all communication with anyone in my cohort, it is basically impossible not to keep up with what other people are doing, but I need to work on compartmentalizing what I see and hear about other ETA’s experiences and what my own is like. Our schools and communities are all separate self-sustaining microcosms and instead of pining about how the grass is always greener I need to stop and smell the roses in my own backyard.
The second thing that my professor said—that she is rooting for me—is something that I have been blessed enough to hear continuously throughout my life. My family, friends, and teachers have always shown me support and guidance in the different things that I do. But, being half a day ahead of everyone in the US makes it really difficult to stay in touch with people. Most of my conversations with friends and family are voice and text messages left in reply to one another when we have a spare minute during the day. I have to schedule days (sometimes weeks) in advance with most loved ones if we want to actually talk on the phone and have a conversation in real-time. My professor’s words were a wonderful reminder of how vast my support system back home really is. It can be hard to remember, because of how isolated I am from the community here, that I am not alone. Because every interaction here is slightly strained (because of the effort it takes to breach communication barriers) it is nice to be reminded of all the communities and groups I am apart of with whom I can interact with ease. I helps me to realize that this isolation I experience at my school is not a reflection of my personality or my potential but a situational consequence of where I am.
My mom always says, “Be a problem solver not a problem maker”, and this time in Perlis has definitely been forcing me to put those positive thinking practices my mother instilled in me to the test. But just like always, when I am starting to feel incredibly down in the dumps and the woe-is-me-mindset is clouding my thoughts, someone in my vast support group gives me the push and prod I need to get back to the problem solving habits that have served me well throughout my life. (If my mom’s mantra can get me through statistics it can get me through anything right?) Besides, with the end of month five just around the corner I have already made it through the uphill climb! Im sure, like any downhill slide, I will receive just as many bruises and bumps as the way up but there’s something sweet about knowing you’ve passed the halfway point. I have more time behind me that I do ahead and that is giving me the motivation to step my game back up and work towards a second semester that I can be really proud of. Stay tuned y’all because, like any sports fan knows, the second half is when it gets good.
