Laughter is a Bitter Pill

Here's an unexpected cultural difference for you: laughter.

My students laugh at me all the time. They laugh when they're nervous, they laugh when I say something funny. They laugh when they don't know the answer, they laugh when I try to explain something in French.

Isn't it rather cruel, or is that just teenagers?

My American kiddos were always to petrified to say anything out of turn.

My Austrian kids were always so serious, except for the one jokester (der Spassvogel). There's one in every class.

Laughter makes me nervous. Laughter makes me sad.

I wish I could laugh back at my students, but someone has to be the professional in the room.

Lessons Learned?

The kids have been showing up regularly the past two weeks -- wahoo! Though it is only Tuesday...I have faith they'll be good from now on. There have been stragglers and no-shows, but not entire groups like before: me sitting in an empty room wondering why I got out of bed that morning to come sit in an empty room for three hours. Progress!

At the middle school, I'm in the classroom with the teacher, so that is virtually no problem. I've had to prepare more for these lessons, simplifying mostly, and switching topics every ten minutes (as opposed to every fifteen) for the lower level of the students. Teaching, it occurs to me, is sort of like trying to hit the sweet spot between what the students actually know and the magical test-level knowledge they are expected to acquire. It's like one of those crazy Venn diagrams used by stock traders.

I haven't been preparing much at the high school, since I only see each group once every four weeks. In fact, I've only done two lessons so far: the Introduction and Stereotypes. Interspersed with those, I've done itty bitty grammar lessons, like the use of adverbs (always, often, sometimes, rarely, never) showing habitual action, and past tense (and goodness, they could use the practice). I generally ask them how their weekend was.

This is all A2 level, so nothing ridiculously hard. Unfortunately, I'm finding myself using A LOT more French in class here than I used German in class while I was in Austria. Technically, we're supposed to be doing immersion with them, but if I'm talking slowly (like a snail) and repeating myself three or four times, I'm sorry--switching over! It's not like I can get in trouble. I have the kids in small groups, so there's no teacher, and who's going to rat me out? The kids? HA! I can't get fired anyway, so it's a moot point. I can basically do whatever I like, and what I like is to help them. It's really only a word here or there that I translate, either from a word I've already said in English, or a word they're searching for. If they ask me and not their friend, all the better. Because you know they'll chatter away with the friend about something completely unrelated, but I'll steer the topic back.

The one thing that has made me reconsider using French in the classroom at all is the other day when we did stereotypes. It was a group I'd already had (stereotypes is my lesson #2 in the arsenal) and we were talking about baguettes versus "American" bread, i.e. sliced bread. I tried to explain it six differed ways, but they didn't get it. "What don't you get?" I asked.

"Slice. What is 'slice'?"

"Slice is tranche in English."

"What?"

"Tranche"

Ensue torrent of giggles. Apparently I pronounced it wrong.

May I, in my defense, state that I have a cold? Nevertheless, I think their punishment will be TOTAL immersion from now on.

La Toussaint: or, a Rant about Public Education

This week is the Catholic/Christian holiday All Saint's day--or, as they say in France, La Toussaint.

While I was in Austria, because the Austrians, like the French, are nominally Catholic, I got All Saint's day (Allerheiligen in German) off there, too. But, instead of, say, a four day weekend, like in Austria, I get a whole two weeks off.

I'm getting pretty used to the French way of doing things: from my ridiculous number of days off to my peripheral teaching duties--virtually no lesson planning--since I've been asked to help the student improve their speaking skills and all I have to do is show up with a topic and a vocabulary list.

The government-mandated French work week is 35 hours; the average amount of time off a year is five weeks (also government mandated) and as a teacher, I get all of the school holidays off - that's four two-week vacations a school year, not to mention summer vacation.

Before you scoff, or express your jealousy, or anything like that, I wish to mention a few things about the average French high school schedule. School starts at 8AM and can go all the way to 6PM some days, though the students are not obligated to stay in the building when they don't have class. They have 10-12 subjects each year, and are required to take a grueling school leaving exam, the baccalaureat or bac for short. If they don't pass it the first time, they repeat their final year until the do.

Most kids who don't repeat a year graduate at 18, like in the United States. But, if they do repeat a year (once, twice, or even more times), they stay until they pass the bac: I have a student who's 21. No joke. The system is relatively speaking the same throughout Europe. Students in Austria who don't pass their Matura the first time around have to stay until they do; likewise in Germany with their Abitur.

It makes me wonder: in the United States, we push kids through so virtually everyone graduates at 18, whether they've learned what they need to in high school or not. As the old saying goes, "D for Diploma--that's good enough for me!" There are no school leaving exams, at least not in Wisconsin, and though certain educational programs are implemented at the national level (the infamous "No Child Left Behind," or the equally dubious "Rise to the Top"), most decisions on public education are left up to the states to decide. And that doesn't always work.

Not to get political, but I must contribute the travesty of my home state's gubernatorial recall election in June 2012. One of the first things Governor Scott Walker put into place when he was elected--the thing, indeed, that caused riots in Madison and a call to arms to recall him in the first place--was to cut public workers' rights, including teachers', by limiting their bargaining rights.

Now, you might not see directly how this would affect education in Wisconsin. Think about it this way: if teachers are demoralized because they're getting paid less than what they're worth--or have no control over their pensions, etc.--they will not be as effective in the classroom. Fewer young people will want to go into the teaching profession, since there is little prestige and virtually no pay for lots and lots of hard work. So you see?   Policy can affect a lot of different things, and what your child learns is definitely one of them.

Though the American school system isn't perfect, it does compare favorably to the French system, which has a lot less interactive learning and a lot more lecture-based. Teaching in France has a more...um, didactic?...quality along the lines of "I talk, you listen."  In Austria, it depends, but the preferred teaching method there is of a "call and response" nature: the teacher has the answer book, and checks the students' knowledge against what it says in the book. Of course, discussion comes into play more often in Austria as well. Having an opinion is valued in both cultures, but in France, the tendency is to keep it to yourself until you're out of the classroom.

One last note: teachers in France do not get paid as well as teachers in Austria, but they certainly get more days off.