Yesterday I was late to the morning assembly, and apparently it was a short one, because it was already over. As the children filed into their classrooms, I joined the circle of teachers who were milling around to see if there were any announcements, and there were: the Class Two teacher informed me that she is traveling up to coast to go home for the day. “Paul, you will need to teach Class Two” was the extent of my guidance. Normally I teach the vocational students in the morning, but they would have to wait.
The children were waiting, mostly seated, when I entered the room. I explained that I would be the substitute, and they quickly pointed out the calendar to me so I could see the schedule. First up: News. “What’s news?” I ask. No one knows. I imagine trying to explain current events to this group who, for the most part, can’t color. I decide to spend all day doing English vocab in different permutations. Mostly I draw funny pictures on the blackboard, try to get the kids to tell me what they are, then label them and have them copy. It was a long day of this. By the end my hands, shirt, and trousers were covered in chalk.
Today after the Ash Wednesday mass, which was entirely in Swahili, I walked back to school with the Catholic students and resumed teaching Class Two again, and continued for the rest of the day. I followed a similar routine, but for “Science” class, I decided to teach “ice” and “steam.” As they were drawing pictures of ice cubes, it occurred to me, why not bring some into class to make this more tangible? I scurried home (it’s visible from the classroom) and brought back an ice cube tray. Upon my return, I began passing around the cubes to demonstrate “cold,” another vocab word I had written in the board. In hindsight this shouldn’t have been surprising, but the children began eating the ice cubes, which prompted them to fight, to pull each others’ mouth open, and finally to surround me shrieking for more ice cubes, which I did not have. They were so loud that the neighboring classroom’s teacher came over and told them all to hush. Classroom noise is not usually a problem: it’s a Deaf School, after all.
I filled up both ice cube trays tonight so they will be ready for tomorrow, in case I decide to reintroduce anarchy into the classroom.
I do feel certain about one thing right now: the blackboard is the enemy. And as much as I’m reading, writing, and focusing on computers as the solution, it’s not the only solution. I feel strongly that well-selected worksheets/workbooks could do far more good for the students than the blackboard model (or for that matter, the projector/TV model— one visual simply can’t apply to that many children at the same time). At any given moment there just aren’t enough attentive eyes on the board, and of the children watching, even fewer have a good understanding of what’s happening. Custom worksheets for the students, handed out according to ability, would be far more valuable.
I’m going to buy a printer.