The week of May 19-23

I had my open class on Tuesday with my Grade 3 co-teacher. This is when parents are invited to observe a lesson and give feedback. Last term, there were around 6 or 7 parents present; this time, there were twenty! (Interestingly enough, only 2 of them were fathers.) They all sat in the back and watched intently. I didn't pay them any attention, though; I just did my thing at the front of the class.

I noticed, though, that I acted differently because I knew they were there. Back home, kids regularly tell me that not only do I look like Carlos from YTV's the Zone (I don't see the resemblance), but I also act like him. In other words, I'm very animated; I exaggerate everything, as if I'm on some sort of invisible stage. It really is a performance. I don't know where it comes from, but if you throw me in front of a bunch of kids with a piece of chalk or a picture book in my hand, that's what happens. Anyway, having the parents there to watch made me amp up my stage persona even more. 

Not even close...

The result: I had moms full out singing along with our chant. Success!

My co-teacher was really happy that the class went off without a hitch; she had been very nervous about the class for several weeks. It's her first year teaching English in over ten years, and she's self-conscious of her English skills. Thankfully, she did a fine job, as I knew she would, and we were able to put the day behind us.

As a reward, I offered to treat Anne to some Canadian cuisine. My friend, Steph, showed me a restaurant downtown where they make a pretty damn good poutine. When I showed Anne a picture, she said her mouth was watering. I mean, sure, it's not fresh from Quebec, but it's definitely much better than the crap you'd get at a Burger King back home. Plus, it's a huge serving! It was so big she couldn't even finish the whole thing. I probably ate about a third of her bowl. 

Afterwards, Anne treated me a mountain of patbingsu, which is a shaved ice dessert topped with a sweet red bean paste. It was a nice little cultural exchange we had.

The next day, Anne and I had another bunch of Grade 3's to teach. Our current unit is "How many (insert animal here)?" The activity Anne was leading involved students listening to a piece of audio and placing the correct amount of animal stickers on to their text book. One kid was bored out of his skull, as he knows his stuff, and so he made this lovely piece of art with his remaining stickers. It was close to lunch, so I couldn't blame the guy.

He got up to show his artwork to his buddy, but I immediately sat him down and flipped the picture over, lest my co-teacher caught sight of it. I knew she wouldn't have appreciated his artistic vision, and likely would've torn him a new one instead.

In that same class, one boy got really worked up about being eliminated from the game Anne was leading. He stormed to his desk and threw his textbooks on the floor, bursting into a full blown hissy fit. Anne was busy leading the game, and I wasn't doing anything particularly productive, so I went over to help a brother out.

When I sat down, I was inspired to draw a quick Cartman sketch for some reason. As my hand moved and the picture slowly began to take shape, the kid simmered down, his curiosity fully peaked. He kept tilting his head this way and that, trying to figure out what the hell I was drawing. The rest of the class was shouting "Let it Go" as a part of the game, so I added the little speech bubble. 

When I was finished, he took the piece of paper ever so delicately, as if I had just handed him a baby bird or something. He just looked at it. Two minutes earlier, he was ready to start flipping desks. The funny part is this is the second time I've done this, and both times, it's gotten pretty much the exact same reaction. I have no idea what that means...