I write this post at the source of the constant headaches: the classroom. Day in and day out, the frustrations continue to amount and new surprises are always uncovered. Then again, I don't comprehend why I'm still surprised that my students continue to find ways to frustrate me.
Previously touching on this subject, I want to elaborate more on my frustrations. My memories of a child in the United States educational system, particularly the Minneapolis Public Schools system, I was an obedient child. Our classrooms consisted of between 18 and 20 kids (roughly, it's been over 12 years) and the students were well-behaved. You sat in your chair at your desk, legs under the desk, pencil and notebook out. Your mouth was closed, your voice turned off, and you were listening to the teacher. Only when the teacher granted permission to speak is when you dared to open your mouth.
Classrooms back then had maybe one or two students that were out of control. You know who they were... they were notorious for causing a disruption and speaking out of turn.
The classroom was structured. As a student, my desk was mine. The contents inside the desk drawer were organized, not a hint of chaos to be found. Ask me to locate my english notebook and I'd have it out in seconds. Ask that of any student for the most part and they'll whip it out in a few moments.
Food was nowhere to be seen in the classroom. You didn't even think about bringing food in, as to save yourself from the wrath of the teacher. It was a scary sight you didn't dare risk experiencing. Your water bottle was close by, if you chose, but no sugary drinks or food in sight.
These practices are absent in Honduras.
It's a daily battle in the classroom. Students here simply don't give a shit. If you are trying to speak to the classroom, they carry on their individual conversations. When your voice grows loud, theirs grow louder. There is no sense of respect from the students towards the teacher, even if you discipline them and take away privileges. There is no sense of responsibility to take notes, to write down problems, or to do them correctly.
Desks are a melting pot of chaos, disarray, and unrest. Papers, trash, books, and pencils scattered about. The hourly complaint from a student not having a pencil or pen. Four books on top of the desk with the appropriate book for that class nowhere to be found.
Students waltz into the classroom with food like it's a cafeteria. No, this is how we get ants and flies. This is how the floor gets dirty. I don't give a damn if you won't spill it, this is my classroom. I have a strict rule against food. If I see it, you throw it in the trash, finished or not. But the food is persistent.
I'm not sure if it's a generation difference, or a cultural one. One of two things will have to happen: tears will be shed under the firm rule hammer of Mr. Ian, with discipline being handed out left and right, or I will have to give up out of frustration and go home. I guess time will tell.
