Because of their large vocabularies in Spanish, my kids make some funny English sentences. Here are some of the ones I've collected:
-I detest rolling.
-Is this obligatory?
-Thunder is insupportable.
-The lightly illuminates the sky like fireworks.
-Fish and corn are exquisite with lemon and tajín.
-Spanglish is the fusion of English and Spanish.
And here are a few sentences without good vocabulary that I just found funny:
-The red skins live in a colony.
-I can eat healthy because I eat god.
-I slavery my backpack. (This was after I explained that slavery was when one person /owned/ another.)
-My friends are rolling all the time.
-We have too much independences.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
The World Cup
Five years ago I didn't know what it was. Now I'm wearing a Mexico shirt, painting my face, and watching more soccer games in two days than I've ever watched in my life.
My students were trading player cards for weeks. "Waka Waka" and "Wavin' Flag" played from every corner. I didn't even have to switch my brain to Spanish to understand that every lunch conversation was about teams, players, and June 11 plans.
Something woke me up early on Friday morning. Perhaps it was the static excitement in the air. Perhaps it was the fireworks exploding every five minutes. Perhaps it was just indigestion. I donned a Mexico T-shirt and ate my Raisin Bran in front of the opening ceremonies before heading out into a traffic-free street.
At school mothers escorted their children in, carrying "extra" TVs nicer than any my family has ever owned. Before I had even unlocked my classroom door, students were thrusting a stick of face paint into my hands. In several minutes, a child's TV was hooked up, the snack bar was running, and the room had been transformed into a stadium. I only had nine of 27 students show, and my partner only had 11, so we combined our groups and tag-teamed the day.
During library (where my students also watched the game), I joined the older grades and most of the teachers in the auditorium. There, the game played on a large screen and students ran in circles when Mexico scored. A few teachers led the room in cheers.
Since that game, I've watched several others, most of them at a sports bar with coworkers. Honestly, I don't care a bit about soccer. I don't care if Italy wins the World Cup. I don't care of Slovakia wins the World Cup. Heck, if Canada had a team, I wouldn't even care if they won the World Cup. Still, I'm soaking in this experience. I may never again live in a place that cares about this tournament. May as well enjoy it while I have the chance, eh? So for now, Vamos Mexico!
My students were trading player cards for weeks. "Waka Waka" and "Wavin' Flag" played from every corner. I didn't even have to switch my brain to Spanish to understand that every lunch conversation was about teams, players, and June 11 plans.
Something woke me up early on Friday morning. Perhaps it was the static excitement in the air. Perhaps it was the fireworks exploding every five minutes. Perhaps it was just indigestion. I donned a Mexico T-shirt and ate my Raisin Bran in front of the opening ceremonies before heading out into a traffic-free street.
At school mothers escorted their children in, carrying "extra" TVs nicer than any my family has ever owned. Before I had even unlocked my classroom door, students were thrusting a stick of face paint into my hands. In several minutes, a child's TV was hooked up, the snack bar was running, and the room had been transformed into a stadium. I only had nine of 27 students show, and my partner only had 11, so we combined our groups and tag-teamed the day.
During library (where my students also watched the game), I joined the older grades and most of the teachers in the auditorium. There, the game played on a large screen and students ran in circles when Mexico scored. A few teachers led the room in cheers.
Since that game, I've watched several others, most of them at a sports bar with coworkers. Honestly, I don't care a bit about soccer. I don't care if Italy wins the World Cup. I don't care of Slovakia wins the World Cup. Heck, if Canada had a team, I wouldn't even care if they won the World Cup. Still, I'm soaking in this experience. I may never again live in a place that cares about this tournament. May as well enjoy it while I have the chance, eh? So for now, Vamos Mexico!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Third-grade drama
Yes, I'm still here in Mexico. Yes, I'm still teaching. Well, more like glorified babysitting these days. The kids are ready to be done, our curriculum is nearly finished, the World Cup is beginning -- basically, I'm just trying to keep the kids from walking on the ceilings for the next three weeks.
I haven't grown tired of them yet, though. Sure, I'm ready to be done, but somehow, the kids keep me laughing all day. One particular table is especially providing entertainment. My students are divided into groups of five or six for each six-week unit. One group has had a tough time working together recently. They've declared war in the standard third-grade manner: boys versus girls.
Yesterday, the boys of the table were staying late to finish a project. I was tutoring when they came up to me, indignantly holding out a paper that they found "on the floor." It was from a few of the enemy girls. I read it, promised I would talk to the girls, and turned away quickly so they wouldn't see me laughing. For your enjoyment, here are the contents of the note. And look, they wrote in English!
Blue ink: You are good friend!
Pink ink: And you too.
Blue: Thankyou!
Pink: About you want to talk
Blue: About how much we don't like the boys of this table?
Pink: that they are mediocres and bad
Blue: exactly!
Pink: yes.
Blue: I don't like that I do something that he don't like me and he said that he love me!
The note goes on to discuss which boy had altered his affections and why Blue Ink felt the need to use so many exclamation marks. Such sorrow. Maybe I should warn the little culprit that if he doesn't want problems with the girls at his table, he shouldn't promise them his love and then change his mind.
I haven't grown tired of them yet, though. Sure, I'm ready to be done, but somehow, the kids keep me laughing all day. One particular table is especially providing entertainment. My students are divided into groups of five or six for each six-week unit. One group has had a tough time working together recently. They've declared war in the standard third-grade manner: boys versus girls.
Yesterday, the boys of the table were staying late to finish a project. I was tutoring when they came up to me, indignantly holding out a paper that they found "on the floor." It was from a few of the enemy girls. I read it, promised I would talk to the girls, and turned away quickly so they wouldn't see me laughing. For your enjoyment, here are the contents of the note. And look, they wrote in English!
Blue ink: You are good friend!
Pink ink: And you too.
Blue: Thankyou!
Pink: About you want to talk
Blue: About how much we don't like the boys of this table?
Pink: that they are mediocres and bad
Blue: exactly!
Pink: yes.
Blue: I don't like that I do something that he don't like me and he said that he love me!
The note goes on to discuss which boy had altered his affections and why Blue Ink felt the need to use so many exclamation marks. Such sorrow. Maybe I should warn the little culprit that if he doesn't want problems with the girls at his table, he shouldn't promise them his love and then change his mind.
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