What Next?

This morning, I woke up in my double bed, and turned over and grabbed my iPhone. I had 3 text messages and two social network notifications. I got out of bed, and brushed my teeth, using the water from the sink to wet my toothbrush and to rinse my mouth out. I put a hat, a coat and my slippers on, grabbed my keys and stepped out of my house. There was snow on the ground. I drove to the deli and entered to the smell of eggs and the sound of complaints from people who say the Knicks suck this year and people who are cursing Mother Nature because it’s supposed to snow this weekend. The man in front of me thinks it is ridiculous that the young girl behind the counter put sausage on his sandwich instead of extra bacon. Doesn’t she know he has places to be? I don’t know if he knows how to smile. I order a “hungry man” – three eggs, bacon, ham, sausage, and cheese on a hero roll. I don’t need this much food, but I can get that much food, so I got it. I go home, turn on the TV and ate until I couldn’t move. This all took about an hour and a half. This hour and a half was so drastically different from any hour and a half during my trip to Ghana.

It has been a week now, and I’m still not used to anything. I lived in Ghana for six weeks, and now that I am home, I feel like I’m in a foreign country.

I sit and I think about my trip and my experience every day, and I am having so much trouble processing and digesting everything that happened and what I just did. I’ve had people tell me how proud of me they are - how impressed they are that I was able to move to Ghana for a month and a half and live and teach. At the time and even a little bit now, I’m having trouble understanding what is so impressive. Then I remember what my friends and I said to each other every few days: “Hey Emmy, we’re in Africa,” or, “Hey Jenna, guess what? We’re in Africa right now.” I spent six weeks living in a completely different world! Every day I worked with adults and students who look different than I do, speak differently and believe in different things. Six weeks! Looking back, the most impressive part is that we all became acclimated with our surroundings, and what I experienced every day became normal:

Bumpy dirt roads. Taxis and taxi drivers that get really excited if I bring up soccer. Hearing people speak Twi. Trying to learn Twi. Lizards… everywhere. Latex foam signs and latex foam beds. The sound of the teacher using a cane to discipline a student. Negotiating prices. Rice. Being called “Sir Michael.” Writing tests on the white board. Allowing children to carry my books to class. Hot classrooms. Overcrowded classrooms. Two students to a desk. Little children in the villages screaming because they saw a group of “obrunis.” Being called big, large, strong, or fat. People eating all meals with their hands. Only having internet and electricity sometimes. Sweating. Club Ghana Beer and making sure to return the glass bottles. Squeezing 14 people into a tro tro. Being stared at because I am white. My students laughing at how I speak Twi. Answering endless questions about America. Asking endless questions about Ghana. Watching and discussing the football I am not used to. Students rising to greet me as I enter the classroom. Being hugged and holding hands with young primary school students that I may have only met once. Using cedis and pesewas to pay for things. Drinking water out of bags. Students glowing over even the smallest praise.

One thing I had trouble getting used to and am still struggling with is an idea that concerns privilege and the guilt I have stemming from that. On the first night, as we left the airport, the group was approached by several men who wanted to help us with our luggage. I was so excited to be in Ghana and so excited to meet people that I introduced myself and talked to the guys. Soon after, they asked me for money because they helped me out. I was shocked and upset. I was naïve and thought these people were just being kindhearted and friendly. It became obvious to me: they saw this group of white people from the United States as a group of dollar signs who would have the money to tip, and further, that they obviously need the money. At that time, I asked myself why I even decided to take the trip. Wouldn’t it be offensive to stroll into this country and parade around and see poverty and struggling families and then whip out my iPhone to check the time? I was worried that I would offend people and flaunt what I have unintentionally. In the markets and villages, people would ask me to buy their goods and I felt bad saying no. How much would that one cedi (less that 50 cents) mean to them, and what does it mean to me? Although I was struck with these thoughts of guilt nearly every day, I was fortunate enough to meet Ghanaians that are some of the kindest people I have ever met, who assured me that being around and having what I have is nothing to feel guilty about. A philosophical teacher and friend, Callistus, explained to me that he feels that being rich is being able to be happy while being able to live within one’s means; just because someone from the United States may have more money that some people in Ghana, that does not mean he or she is happier or better off than anyone else. Most importantly, the teachers who work at the school I taught at saw me as colleagues, and the students respected me as their teacher.

Walked on some rope bridges constructed between trees at the Kakum National Park.

Just by applying to be in this program, I knew I was stepping out of my comfort zone and creating an experience that not many have the privilege of having. In these six weeks, I have pushed myself to my limits physically and emotionally. I have made lifelong friends, both American and Ghanaian. For the first time, I have immersed myself in a culture completely foreign to me and learned about it first hand. I have learned about the Ghanaian educational system, and have learned from the many teachers I had the pleasure of working with. It is hard to believe that this trip, beginning with the months of planning, preparing and learning and culminating with the trip itself is actually over. I will never forget my students, and I can only hope that everything I taught them, both about their English curriculum and about life, will stick with them, and that I have made a lasting impact.

I guess the only thing I have left to say is… What next?

Cape Coast

 We didn’t have internet all weekend, so I wrote this on Monday night and am posting it now:

Our placement is complete. There are no more classes, tests, students, notes, or khaki pants in the Africa heat. We left our home in Kumasi for Cape Coast and arrived Saturday evening. We stayed all of Sunday and Monday on the coast, and it was an amazingly relaxing sort-of-vacation. 

We woke up and had breakfast early on Sunday at a beautiful outdoor restaurant owned by some Europeans. I had crepes and I am not sure why I have waited this long to have them. I had mine filled with fresh pineapple and it was perfect. I also got eggs and toast (don’t judge, I was hungry and knew I was skipping lunch).

I spent the entire day at the beach. Aside from some little Ghanaian boys running around naked (I didn’t really get it, and was very scared from them when they were swimming near the sharp rocks), the entire beach was ours. We lounged and unwound and took in lots of sun. I did absolutely nothing but lay in my chair. I didn’t read a book, didn’t listen to music, didn’t play games, and it was perfect. I was in a very comfortable place in my mind, and in person. My mind was and is still completely blown that I was swimming in the same ocean that I swim in at home and that I have now been in either side of the Atlantic.

Unfortunately, I totally forgot that I was in Africa and not at Robert Moses or Gilgo, and that the sun is the Africa sun. I baked to a boiled lobster shade of red. I wore my SPF 50 even though I usually only use 15 and let my Italian skin do the rest of the work, and yes, mom, I even reapplied once. Somehow I got the worst burn on my stomach, so sleeping is not very easy. I also stepped on a sea urchin while I was out swimming. I thought it may have been a rock, but upon the examination, I found a bunch of little spikes stuck in my foot. Luckily it wasn’t poisonous, or else I would have had to go to the hospital. I tweezed most of the little spikies out, and I’m hoping my body can push the rest out with some help from a little Neosporin.

I felt like I was in a Corona commercial.

Pretty killer sunset.

At night on Sunday, we decided to drink and be merry. We were, and made some Ghanaian friends, who insisted on calling me Mr. Michael just like my students. It was great having all the time during the day and at night for some reflection on where we actually are, what we just did, and how truly amazing it is. I am having a lot of difficulty putting all of my thoughts together. There is so much that I saw, experienced and learned and it is so overwhelming to try and process. Hopefully I’m able to gather my thoughts and write one final post that expresses a lot of what I feel.

We spent another day at the beach today, but this time I stayed in the shade. I am exhausted and am getting a good night sleep tonight, because we leave for Accra tomorrow and depart Wednesday night! It is hard to believe that something I have planned and prepared for this long is coming to an end, but I am excited to get back on the Island and see my family and friends.

Last Day of School and Thanksgiving

The day snuck up on all of us, and yesterday it was finally time to say goodbye to the KNUST JHS and Primary Schools. We were all eager to finish up our lessons, give our teachers gifts, and say goodbye to all of our kids. Before we could do that, we were told, there would be two assemblies for us.

First, our whole group walked over to the primary school where we were greeting with a huge group of students singing songs and welcoming us. This was probably the closest I'll ever feel to being a rock star - as we walked around, and eventually walked through the crowd and up onto a ledge where the headmaster was standing, we were cheered for, touched, jumped on, and screamed at. If the kids weren't 6 or 7, there may have been a problem. The headmaster expressed his gratitude for our work at the school, and how he wishes the program can continue well into the future. We presented a computer, our gift to the school, and they presented us with bracelets that some of the girls in the primary school made themselves.

Patrick, Dr. K and I present Headmaster Francis Asaari with this computer

After their little marching band played us out, we went over to the JHS. Things here work on what we call "Ghana Time," so if they said we would get started at say 8:00 or 8:15, it is good to be ready, but it is realistic that we won't do anything until about 9:00. I hustled to my class so that I could hand out the pen pal letters from my students at HF-L. Assigning the pen pal letters is going to provide such a cool cultural experience for these students who may not know much about the other's country, and it provides a very unique opportunity for me to connect my two classrooms. When that period was over, assembly was called, and we were honored once more - this time at the JHS.

The headmaster expressed his appreciation once more, and then honored the student teachers from the JHS. They absolutely showered us with gifts. They called us up one by one, and as they did, sections of the huge group of students gathered exploded with appreciation of their teacher. The administration gave me a kente weaved bow tie, a pen holder, and a carved wooden pen. Additionally, my students all contributed money and bought me three Ghanaian shirts which they presented to me as well. All of my colleagues and I couldn't stop smiling. This was the perfect send off. As they closed the assembly, each teacher in the school came up to give us a handshake, and if we grew close with him or her, a big, sweaty, Ghana hug.

The crowd was out of control. Almost had to call in extra security for me.

The rest of the day consisted of a lot of goodbyes to students, some last photo opportunities, and a farewell to the school. I got lunch with some of my students, and when we walked into their cafeteria together, I think everyone thought they were getting in trouble because it got really quiet. I gave my cooperating teacher, who insists everyone call her Princess Dinah, her gift, which was a whole bag of school supplies and some pictures and a calendar from Long Island. She is sort of scary, so I was nervous at what she would think, but she absolutely loved it all. The consensus was the same for everyone - for a sad goodbye, it was the best, and happiest way to go out.

There was a photo shoot at the end of the day. Most of the pictures look like this,
but worse because a student said he was a good photographer, but was actually awful.

The Princess herself.

Now, AMERICA... Thanksgiving! There was no turkey, no football, no turkey pants, no pie, and no family for anyone, so the day was difficult (I did have a few brews). I would say that for what we had, we had a great celebration. We went to a hotel/restaurant where we sat outside at our long dinner table and enjoyed each other's company and enjoyed our meal. Before the meal, we had a special dance performance, and a dance group that has been giving us lessons performed some prominent cultural dances. It was certainly different entertainment than I am used to at home. They entertained us, and then after a few cocktails, we were able to entertain them, I'm sure, when we performed the dance that we had prepared.  Our meal consisted of a bunch of pastas and spring rolls, and although not Thanksgivingish, it was quite good.

No matter where I am, I am thankful. I'm thankful for the opportunity I have to take this trip of a lifetime. I'm thankful for all of my friends and family at home who I cannot wait to get back and see. I am thankful for all of the new friends I have made here, both Ghanaian and American, because this trip would not be the same without them. I am a very lucky person to have all that I do, and to have so much love surrounding me, and I do not go a day without remembering that.

Week 4 Photojournal

I'm a little late posting this week's photojournals because I totally thought I was dying and I had malaria yesterday. No worries - it was a false alarm... I'm still alive and kickin'.

"Technology"

           For the second student teaching placement at Geneseo, all teacher candidates are required to

My 8G class listens in on my unique example
of poetry.

complete a technology lesson – one based around technology or that allows students to use technology throughout. For the candidates in Ghana, this term was used very loosely. Above, you can see part of my “technology lesson.” Students are huddled around my computer, straining to hear the rap song I created and was showing them as an example of a lyric poem. I did not have any speakers to enhance the sound, and even huddled around it as close as the students are, not everyone was able to hear. Luckily for them, after I had them listen, I performed the rap myself, and received a standing ovation. This picture is truly indicative of the lack of technology present in these classrooms, and how necessary it is for students growing up in the technological age (even in Ghana) to have access to working with technology as often as possible.

            What saddens me the most is that this is not just apparent to me, and all of the visiting teachers, but it is also apparent to the students. They know that technology exists in classrooms elsewhere, and they know they do not have the access to it. When I read speeches students wrote about what they felt their school needs, almost all of them said Internet access, and many more said more access to computers in general. When I pulled out my laptop this day in class, students’ eyes widened, and they were so anxious to see what I would do with it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do with it other than walk around with pictures and examples and try to play the song. Even though I was disappointed in the way that lesson panned out (the technology aspect at least), the students still loved it.

            Another difficulty I ran into while teaching that could possibly be aided by technology in the classroom came while the students were writing the aforementioned speeches. The teacher asked them to bring their notebooks home and write the speeches in the notebooks instead of typing on a computer, which I completely take for granted. When the students arrived to class the next day, they were asked to copy the speeches they wrote over into another notebook so that it was all neatly written. I was amazed that that seemed like a fairly normal act to the students. The copying took them nearly forty-five minutes and took away from learning time in the classroom.

            I wish I could walk in and fix these issues, but I do not have the money or the power. Instead, I had to give in to their ways. I write all my notes on the board, and even wrote a full test on the board for students to take. It is now a lot easier for me to understand the stress of learning the ways to use technology properly as an educator in the United States; it is not just something that could be helpful for the kids, it is something that they need.

"The Right Classroom Environment"

           I believe that one of the most important, if not the most important quality I bring to the classroom is one that I have not been taught by the Geneseo School of Education and one that I have not read in any textbooks. I have not taught for very long, but I believe it is plain to see that in order to be a successful teacher, I must have an positive attitude in the classroom and provide an environment where students feel comfortable learning.

The students love my positive attitude and fresh Ghanaian
fashion sense.

            When I arrived in the classroom, I noticed that a lot of the students in the classroom seemed intimidated by the teacher and did not want to participate or answer questions in front of the class (I would probably be the same too, if there was a possibility of being caned if I answered the question wrong). Because students were not participating, sharing, and asking questions, they were not learning to their fullest potential. I knew from the start that one of my goals would have to be getting the students to feel comfortable enough with me that they would become eager to participate and ask questions.

            Much to my surprise, helping students understand that I want them getting involved, being creative, and taking risks was not as easy as I expected it to be. I gave them the “think outside the box” box, did my best to learn some of their native Twi language, discussed football (their football), wore my new Ghana style shirt, and even had to literally sing and dance at times. Finally, the students have become very comfortable with me in front of the classroom, and I am grateful and proud that I was able to do so. The only issue? Now the students have to transition back to their teacher and her ways of teaching, which are VERY different from mine. All I can hope is that from my few weeks in the classroom, and about a week and a half of direct instruction, the students will be able to take some of the things I have taught them and implement them through the rest of this year and throughout their schooling.

Thinking Outside the Box and Pito

I mentioned in a previous blog post that I wanted to experiment with positive reinforcement, and how I began to use the "Think Outside the Box" box. It worked. It worked SO well. I was amazed at how much response a silly paper box drew from these 13 and 14 year olds. Whenever I saw a student modeling the creative thinking I wanted them to use, they got the box and a round of applause from their classmates. I had students come up to me before class, after class, at the canteen (cafeteria/market/foodstand place) and tell me that they wanted to get the box. I told them that they have to earn it, and they did not disappoint. Students who were not as engaged and do not usually participate were raising their hands out of their seats. My only regret is that I did not have more time to implement this, and even more strategies like this. Here are some pictures of my silly students who thought outside the box: 

I was very impressed with Richard. He's very quiet and has a lot of trouble with English.
When he shared his example of imagery, the class gave him the box and clapped before I could even say anything.

Dariad told me he neeeeeeded the box, and he came through with a great interpretation of a poem.

Joshua! 

On a completely different note, I had one of my favorite experiences of the trip yesterday. One teacher from the school, Callistus, goes above and beyond for the student teacher he has, and is always willing to share, help, and learn from everyone who made the trip. Callistus took my friend Patrick and me to a place that he called "Pito Base,"which is located in a local village - somewhere I likely would not go without Ghanaian accompaniment. We walked into Pito Base, and were given a wooden bench to sit on next to some locals. This was all outside, and there was nothing but the benches, the orange dirt ground, the people, and the Pito. Pito is a drink native to the northern part of Ghana, where Callistus is originally from. There is a long brewing/fermenting process that goes into the creation, and the final product tastes like nothing I've ever had before. If I could compare it to something, I'd say kind of a hard apple cider, but different (sorry, it's hard to explain). We took our seats and were given bowls and lids. Soon after, a woman filled our bowls with Pito. Before drinking, we poured a bit out so as to honor our ancestors and give back to the earth. It was dusk, and the night was growing dark, but there was still a little orange left in the sky. We drank the pito and talked about life in Ghana, the United States, and just in general. This experience was incredible, and was like nothing I have ever seen or done. I did not take any pictures because I did not want to take away from what I was doing. I believe that life is made up of a series of eye-opening and defining moments, and I know that at that moment, the simplicity of drinking my pito out of a bowl, and talking and sharing with new Ghanaian friends while the sun was setting will be a moment I never forget.

Quick Points

• I thought I was invincible while climbing rocks, but days later, I am still hurting. 
• Some of the older women in the teacher's lounge call me "baby cheeks." Take that however you want to.
• It's sad to admit, but I was experiencing some serious McDonald's withdrawals yesterday. 
• I performed a one of my "Daydream Project" raps for the class and got a standing ovation.
• I got a sweet shirt made from some crazy fabric by a tailor, and I am going to wear it to school tomorrow (I'm sure there will be pictures)
• The malaria medication makes me have crazy dreams. I don't have malaria though, so I am okay having the dreams. 
• In about a week, I will be incredibly homesick because all of my friends and family will be home celebrating Thanksgiving (but about a week after that, I will be home!).

Some positive feedback from students after my lesson.

I swear I don't make them wear the box on their heads.

Beginning of my Unit and 8th Graders Being 8th Graders

The "key assignment" for this part of my student teaching placement is the completion of a unit plan. In the United States, I would have this planned out weeks ahead of time with my cooperating teacher, and it would be organized to the point of sickness. At HF-L, my unit lasted a little bit over two weeks. I had time on my side, and a lot of time to bring forth my ideas. 

Ghana is not this way. My unit will consist of three 80 minute blocks over the span of a week. I found out last week that I will be teaching poetry, and that I can do what I want for the unit as long as I follow along with a book and teach what my teacher tells me to teach. In other words, I am not teaching what I would like to, as far as terms, elements, and what I feel is important; but I do get to teach what I must teach in my own ways. This makes me excited. This happened as a result: 

Kwame thought "Outside the Box" and was
....rewarded? 

While reading poetry, and while thinking about how to teach poetry, one must always "think outside the box." In order to help kids grasp the idea of "thinking outside the box" (they had no idea what this meant), I reached into my bag of tricks, did some origami, and made a box out of paper. At the time, the Jets were down 20 in the second quarter, and I thought paper folding would calm me down. It didn't. ANYWAY, whenever I felt a student was thinking outside the box, I gave them the box and had the students cheer for them. This way, other students would see how he was thinking and have it serve as a model. Kwame turned the box into a hat, and I am totally cool with that. It showed me that he felt comfortable with me and was on the same page as me. Let's face it, I would have done the exact same thing. In my first lesson I think I began to unlock some creativity and I had some fun. I allowed the kids to be kids in a supportive learning environment. 

Another "fun" thing that happened today that screamed puberty was when I asked students to practice rhyming words. This was harder than I thought because with their accent, students pronounce a lot of words differently than I do. For instance, they thought that "cut" rhymed with "cat," and the way that they pronounced the word, it did. One boy did not have any problem rhyming words. When I asked him to tell me some rhymes, he told me: "cart, fart, shart." 

I told him he was totally correct, and was laughing too hard to say anything else.

Week 3 Photojournal

"Can You Please Read This"

After Ghana-born Ziggy Ansah was drafted 5^th overall in this year’s NFL draft, I joked that I was going to find a student who had potential and make a star out of them. I am not really going to do this, but if I were going to, I would choose this boy whose name is Nii. He towers over all of the other students, and looks like he is 18 and not 13. I could seriously see him starting at middle linebacker on

Nii was laughing before this, and was
trying to hold back.

some lucky football team somewhere in America. Fortunately, he has other talents in case football does not work out with him. Nii is pictured here holding up his exercise book, and the speech that he is so proud of.

            Nii does not speak a lot, but he does smile a lot. When he speaks, he has a surprisingly soft, high-pitched voice. I only taught two lessons this past week (I will be teaching every day this week), and when I do not teach, I sit in the back and observe and circulate around the classroom when necessary. I sit in a chair next to Nii, and he always makes sure it is in the right place and is cleaned off before I sit.

            Before class began, Nii handed me his exercise book and asked me if I could please read it. The students were taught how to write a speech the day before, and I did not really agree with how formulaic it was taught. I did not believe that students would be able to insert their own voices and put passion into what they were writing. Nii proved me wrong. The speech topic was: “If you were speaking in front of the PTA, what would you tell them your school needs?” The answers to this question were very interesting, and could be an entire story in itself.

            Nii wrote that the school could use better shutters on the classroom windows so that the rain did not ruin the books, Internet access so the students could pursue further research, and lockers so that nothing was ever stolen out of students’ bags. His points were all well supported and seemed to be valid, but what amazed me the most was the voice he used to discuss his points. It was very clear to see that this is a student who believes what he is writing, and believes that the school needs what he is writing about. When I read the end of the essay, I knew that was what he wanted to show me. This is how Nii ended his speech: “Elders say luck is like sand in hands. It sneaks through fingers no matter how gripped firmly or held loosely. Only hands in the prayer posture can save it. Parents, we are pleading with you to help us and also pray for us, and I think if you help us by helping provide these, I know God is going to repay you.” I was blown away. The guidelines for this assignment did not include an analogy or anything of this sort. I proved to me that despite the rote, often repetitive curriculum, students here are capable of that higher order thinking and creativity. It just needs to be unlocked.

            I told Nii how impressed I was and how good his work was. I commented on all of the points he made and I told him I loved the analogy. He told me that that is what his grandmother says to him sometimes. As class moved on, I nearly lost my cool. My teacher had the students copy the speeches from one notebook to another so that there were no mistakes. Nii was getting frustrated because he misspelled a word, and wrote something improperly. He knew that his teacher would be looking for mistakes like that, and would mark points off, despite writing a very good speech. Another student, one of the smartest in the class, was told the he writes his lowercase f poorly, and had to fix it. I am finding that I am growing more frustrated with things like this than the caning! The students could be doing such a great job, but that is never acknowledged, and looked over because of a few mistakes here and there. My teacher tells me that she will do nothing next week, and will only watch me. I’m hoping that I am able to praise the students when they have succeeded, and that she may be able to see their positive reaction and consider teaching in a similar fashion in the future. 

"An Uphill Battle"

          I’m teaching metaphor a little bit this week, so I think it is appropriate for me to be metaphorical here and now. We climbed and climbed when we were at the Tano Sacred Grove this past weekend, and although we did not stand up on the highest rock and stay there for hours, I felt like the world paused for a little and allowed me to think. I think too much probably, but I like to reflect and I feel like it is healthy. One thing I came up with while we were climbing was that education is always going to be an uphill battle that is not easy, and will never be easy.

            On Saturday, I did not know what I was getting into. It was hot, and I was sweating. I felt sweat in my eyes, down the small of my back, and running down my nose as I climbed. I grabbed whatever I could grip, and stepped on anything that resembled a foothold. After we reached the top of the first formation, I got a taste of success. Not only had I made it up this far, but also I received a reward – the beauty of the landscape in front of me. This felt good, and after, I was ready to continue and keep going. Although I felt good, it only got harder. The formations seemed a bit steeper and the formations a bit higher. Again, I felt the doubts and struggled a lot at times, but when I hit that top rock, I felt like the greatest climber in the world, and when I saw vast African landscape I wanted more. When I was there, I thought, and I thought about education and where I was and what I was doing.

            When I started with education, people told me I was crazy. There aren’t any jobs, education is going down the tubes, kids are getting worse, standardized testing is ruining everything, APPR, etc. I heard it all, and it was becoming a little intimidating. I started, and it still felt a bit crazy. However, once I started in classrooms and volunteering with certain education groups, everything clicked. I reached the top of the first rock. I saw everything out in front of me, how beautiful it was, and how much more there is. From then, I didn’t want to stop. Now that I’ve actually been into a classroom, created lessons, dealt with students that are real and unique and breathing, and are not just figments of my imagination and subjects for mock lessons, I know that it is a struggle and times and it is difficult. Nothing is ever perfect, despite the perfect planning. There aren’t always well-defined grips or footholds. The surface is slick sometimes, and some extra effort may be needed to just stay on course - not even to reach the top. It takes work and frustration and a lot of effort, but there is always a payoff. It could be an essay, an answer in class, a nod of understanding, a high five, a laugh. This is the beautiful landscape that I look forward to as a teacher.

            Education is a lot bigger than me. I know that I will end up in one school, with only a fraction of the students in the world. I have seen the landscape and I know that it is worth all of the work and the struggle. I cannot speak for every teacher in the world, but I know that I am with nine other teachers that have seen the landscape and understand. I am confident that there are more like us and I can’t wait for 20, 30, 40, 50, 100 years from now to see how we have made a difference. 

Monkeys and Sacred Grove

We did a lot of traveling this weekend, and my back did not love the long road trips, but every other part of my being did. The itinerary for the weekend was: leave for Techiman Friday afternoon, stay overnight in a hotel. On Saturday morning, drive to the Baobeng-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary, then to the Tano Sacred Grove.

It took us about three hours to get to our hotel on Friday. The three hours seemed like ten hours because of the traffic and the bumpy, unpaved, dirt roads that a lot of the drive involved. I am very happy I didn't puke. I tried reading for a bit, but then wised up and just looked out of the front window. We stayed in a very nice hotel, and it was nice to have a change of scenery from our compound. We ate dinner together, and made our way to the hotel bar for a few drinks before getting our sleep for the night. Club Beer is becoming my favorite here, and we saw a truck on the ride over. I'm told that if you pass a beer truck, it will be a good weekend (it was).

#ClubGhana

In the morning, our first stop was the monkey sanctuary, which was so interesting, exciting and funny. There was a long story about the significance and story behind the monkey sanctuary, but there were monkeys everywhere so I wasn't really paying attention. Here's a little history based on what I got: hunters were settling an area and were going to hunt the monkeys that inhabited the area. A god/spirit appeared and told them that the monkeys were the sons of Gods sent down, and that they must coexist. Since then, the monkeys have never been touched, and are treated like humans. They are even given a proper burial when they are found dead. 

The Mona monkeys came right up to us when we walked onto the trail. They knew we had bananas and they were taking them right from our hands! They were jumping from tree to tree, hanging, eating and coming right up to us. They had great hands too. A lot of us threw bananas up into trees where the monkeys would hold on with their tails and feet and catch the bananas. I think we all could have stayed all day long.

There were also some cool trees. This is our whole group.

The monkeys were not shy at all. It took a few
bananas before we could get the picture.

Lil monkeys

This isn't photoshopped or anything...

None of us wanted to do anything the rest of the day that didn't involve monkeys, but we had our plan to head to the Tano Sacred Grove. There was more driving, and everyone was feeling a little drained. When we got to our destination, we were rejuvenated, and used every bit of our energy.

The Sacred Grove is a series of rock formations. While the explanation behind this was equally as cool as the monkey explanation, I was so overwhelmed by the vastness of everything I saw to fully pay attention. Here's what I got:  It is believed that he greatest of earthly Akan gods lives in this grove.  The area has been protected because of his presence.  He commanded that the settlers leave the area and no hunting could take place in the grove. In addition to this one place, there are other amazing sandstone formations that surround the area. They served as lookout points during war, and let me tell you, I saw EVERYTHING. 

We climbed. We climbed and climbed. Up rocks, down rocks, under rocks, over rocks. I don't climb, but I climbed. I felt feelings I have never felt in my life. I boosted myself on top of rocks and felt like I was on top of the world. This is one of the things I have experienced so far that I won't be able to explain fully or expect people to grasp. Standing on top of these massive rock formations with my friends and looking out over Ghana made me swell with happiness and wonder. Sometimes it felt like we were in The Lion King standing atop pride rock. AFRICA... what?! I'll let the pictures try to do some of the talking. We had an incredible weekend. 

Safari hat! 

The view was incredible.

This was after we climbed the first, and easiest rock.
I thought that would be the farthest I got.

The group heading up.

Creativity and KOTOKO

Not only does the lack of resources in the classroom change the way we teach, but it actually changes what we teach and how we plan. We know there are not any computers, smartboards, or projectors, but there is also one copy machine at the school that is used very sparingly (not by us). At my first placement, I sometimes felt like I spent the entire day at the copy machine. Here, I write notes on the whiteboard, and students must copy them. This takes time, and gives me less time to discuss and explain with the class. Rather than print out different visuals for class, primary school teachers are hand drawing all of their posters, and adolescent teachers never hand out dittos or worksheets.

There is one resource that we do have an abundance of... teachers. The student teachers that came on this trip are either Adolescent English and Social Studies or Elementary Ed. There is rarely a time where I don't ask the opinions of my other Adolescent English colleagues about my lessons and what they think would work and what would not. Last night, I did not have a lesson to prepare, and my friend Emmy did. She was teaching literary elements in fiction and non-fiction works, and was having difficulty finding a passage that encompassed all of the elements she intended on teaching. Our solution? Write the examples ourselves. She wrote a non-fiction piece about why she came to Ghana and why she wants to become a teacher, and I wrote a silly fiction story about a Gorilla named Michael. Every day we are adapting to what we have to work with, and we always work it out. Here is an excerpt from the example that I created to assist in her lesson:

"...Michael’s father is very hard on him. He rarely smiles, and whenever Michael entered local banana eating competition, his father would tell him he is wasting his time. His father is very serious, and if someone’s actions are not helping support his band, he does not approve of those actions. Michael is just the opposite. When he is around his father, he is like a soldier and obeys his every command, but when he is alone, he is creative, and likes to explore, read books, and especially eat bananas. There had to be a way that Michael could prove to his father that being a professional banana eater is an important job and is something that means a lot to him… but how?

Just as Michael was going to get up from his spot underneath the tree, a banana fell and hit him on the head. He was hungry, so he did not mind. He ate the banana, and when he was about to get up, another fell and hit him in the head. He looked up to see where the banana came from, and saw no bananas, but a poster that read: “Think you can eat bananas? Come test your skill with the best in the jungle, next Saturday at noon. First Prize is the MEGA BANANA SUPER TROPHY.” Michael looked up in awe. He knew he had to win that trophy. If he could bring that trophy home to his father, he would realize how important banana eating is and that it is not a waste of time. The trophy represents a whole new relationship between him and his father, and Michael could not let this opportunity pass him by..."

After school today, the group took a trip to Baba Yara Stadium (I posted a picture a few posts ago) to see our first Ghanaian Premier League game... ASANTE KOTOKO. I had classes until the end of the day, so I went late with a group to meet the students that were already at the game.

They're the porcupines. 

We tried entering the main gate, where scalpers told us they could give us a great deal on seats: 1000 Ghana Cedi for 5 tickets (about 500 dollars). I laughed, and we went to the actual gate and bought tickets for 6 Ghana Cedi, (under 3 dollars). As we entered, it began to absolutely pour. The rain did not affect us. We sat thirteen strong in the Kotoko stands, and cheered like we've lived in Kumasi our entire lives. The first half went by without a score. Instead of taking cover under an awning during halftime, I went and danced with the die hard Kotoko fans and their band (I was completely saturated already, so it didn't make a difference and no, I had not been drinking).

All of my friends were waiting on the edge of our seats for the first goal, and not long into the second half, it happened. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL. The stadium, which was by no means full, went absolutely insane. From a young age, my dad has shown me that it is totally acceptable to become friends with fellow fans around you at sporting events, and that certainly came out in me at this moment. There were people screaming and running back and forth in our aisle and I must have hugged 3 different strangers. I actually hugged one guy and jumped up and down in a circle with him. None of the other goals were quite as exciting, but overall, the 3-0 Kotoko victory was a blast. Unfortunately, Ghanaians don't believe in humans who wear anything sized Extra Large or 2X for that matter, so I couldn't get myself a jersey (I'm pretty sure they were only selling youth sizes).

My friend Sherry takes cool pictures:

Soaked with rain and Kotoko pride.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL.

KOTOKO

Some Excursions

This trip is especially cool because not only am I getting a student teaching experience, but as I have mentioned many times, every day is a new cultural experience. In addition to being immersed in Ghana every day when I step out of our front door, we go on planned excursions to neighboring villages that are culturally significant or practice culturally significant trades.

Two weekends ago, we traveled to a village called Asuofua, where they make beads. This particular family has been making the beads for over 200 years, and has passed the trade down from generation to generation. They make the beads from ground up bottles of glass and cook them for up to two days in an oven that they have made.

That blue machine in the back grounds up the
glass bottles, and the powder is transferred into a
mold.

The family built this oven, and David shows us
how the process works. He is holding one of the molds. 

Again, this is a village. Everything is a lot more
depressed and rundown, unlike the campus where I am staying.

This past weekend, we visited two villages similar to Asuofua. The villages were known for their Kente Cloth Weaving and their Adinkra Prints respectively. The Kente weaving is an incredibly involved process, and I was getting tired just watching the men weave. They sit in a contraption and move their arms and legs and end up with beautiful pieces of cloth. The people of this village were not as... polite and pleasant as other places we have seen (a whole other story), but the process was amazing. 

My friend Sherry took these cool pictures. Because
the patterns are so intricate, it could
take a day to make just one long piece of cloth. 

Not only do arms and hands move, but the weaver's feet are active also.

Adinkra symbols are symbols that were created by the Asante people to represents ideas, proverbs, or folklore that is important to their culture. These symbols are sometimes printed on different kinds of cloth and displayed or worn. The place we visited makes the ink themselves, and allowed us to print symbols that meant a lot to us on different pieces of fabric. I bought two symbols: the Adinkrahene and the Akoben. 

The first reminded me of football - if you're the greatest, there
is always a target on your back (blending cultures, but whatever).
I got the second one because it sounds badass.

The place makes its own ink from bark of a tree. They put it in a big bowlish thing, and then pound it out with a stick. I did a fair amount of bark pounding: 

I rule.

We are all hoping to make it to the cultural center eventually, which is apparently a haven for cool Ghanaian things (Christmas presents, anyone?). This Wednesday we are going to try to make it to a pro soccer game after school and this weekend we are taking an overnight trip to go to a monkey sanctuary. Excited is an understatement. I love monkeys.

Week 2 Photojournal

It is hard to believe I am already writing a photojournal for my second week of classes here. I am beginning to take over more classes, and I hope I can write more posts like the first one I wrote about one of my students.

"Unique Students"

Tried to take an artsy photo... I'm going to
stick with teaching. 

     While my friend Emmy and I were working on some lesson plans in the school library, she showed me a quotation that she really likes. It reads, “Nobody is superior, nobody is inferior, but nobody is equal either. People are simply unique, incomparable.” I believe that students must be treated exactly the way this quote describes. Students may be smarter than others, students may act out more than others, or students may not care as much as others, but none are better or worse than any other. After I read this quote, it floated around in my brain for a few days, and finally, on Thursday, when I was teaching my first lesson, I saw the quote come to fruition.

            There is a boy who sits in the back of one of my classes named Joseph. When I went around and introduced myself to each student and asked their names, the teacher warned me in front of the class that Joseph is stubborn and does not listen. She said that I must keep an eye on him because he will not be good. I thought this was a fairly harsh introduction, especially because I did not know the student at all. He was immediately labeled as a “bad kid.” While I knew I could not jump to conclusions, I could not help seeing the boy and thinking “bad kid.” Throughout the week, I saw my teacher cane him for offenses that she allowed other students to get away with. After she did that, she would often ridicule him about how he is a bad kid, and how small his ears are. She always treated him like a bad kid. Looking back to the quote, she saw him as “inferior” to other students and treated him as so.

            I knew that Joseph could not be as bad as she frames him to be. Whenever I walk around campus and I see Joseph, he always shakes my hand, or gives me a respectful salute. I sometimes use his native language of Twi to ask him how he is doing, and he smiles and tells me he is fine. I was and am still finding out that Joseph is not a bad kid, but just is different from others. He needs to be shown that people care, and I have been showing him that I do, despite how my teacher treats him.

            Joseph proved himself to me on Thursday when I taught my first lesson. Sometimes, when the teacher does not want to hear from Joseph or other students, she tells them they are on “probation” and cannot talk. I made it a point to tell him and those other students that while I was teaching, they could raise their hands and participate as much as they want. When the lesson began, and I began asking for volunteers to answer questions and read, Joseph’s hand shot up in the air every single time. Not only was I impressed at how often he was participating, but I was also impressed at his answers and his reading ability, something that my teacher may not have seen because she does not give him the opportunity. It even got to the point in the lesson where I had to ask someone other than Joseph to answer a question. I was so proud of him that class, and I think he will continue to respond to me throughout the rest of the time I am in his classroom.

            Joseph is not a prefect, he does not sit in the front row of the class, and he is sometimes goofy in class, but that certainly does not make him a “bad kid.” I am slowly learning that while some students are similar, I will have as many different personalities as I have students, and I must treat them as not superior or inferior to one another, but as unique, incomparable human beings.

"Teacher Room"

My view of the "Teacher Room"

This picture was shot from the back of the “Teacher Room.” Every Wednesday at first break (from 9:20-9:50), we are invited to eat breakfast with the other teachers. The school provides fresh bread with jam or margarine, hardboiled eggs, and tea. As the picture shows, the room gets filled with teachers. From the looks of it, not one teacher misses this meal. Also take notice of the foreground of the picture, and the many exercise books stacked on the two teachers’ desks. Not only does this room serve as a giant, loud cafeteria, but as a workspace for every teacher at the school. This provides a very interesting dynamic that I think is beneficial for the overall success of the school.           

In my short experience with being the teacher in a high school and not the student, I have found teacher’s lounges and faculty rooms to be cliquey and separated, just as high school can be. At the KNUST Basic School, the “Teacher Room” serves as a combination of teacher’s cafeteria, main office, individual teachers’ offices, faculty room, and teacher’s lounge. While this may seem like an overwhelming combination, I believe a room like this is beneficial to the chemistry between teachers (within content area and outside) and can help to build an important camaraderie among the staff.

While I’m sure there is plenty of hanging out and fooling around among the teachers as there is in every school (I can’t understand a lot of what they say to each other), I have taken notice of a few instances that show the benefits of this gigantic, multi-purpose room. During the breakfast, while everyone was present and kind of quiet because they were eating, what seemed like the principal made a few important announcements. Instead of having teachers stay after school and go somewhere for faculty meetings, the “meeting” was held briefly and was convenient for all teachers present. When the meeting was over, all of the teachers laughed and joked together, and they walked around and caught up with each other.

The room is nice because I know that my teacher will usually be in there if we are not in class, and I can go there with any questions I have. I am not sure if it is a coincidence or if content area teachers sit together, but when she had a question about what was being taught that year, she only had to turn to her left and ask the English teacher next to her. When the teacher to her left could not answer her question, she turned around and asked the English teacher that was sitting behind her. It was as easy as this, and all of the teachers, including myself, were on the same page regarding curriculum. In an American school, there would have been an email exchange, a walk downstairs or a phone call. I think this system is more convenient. Yes, and email is quick and easy, but I feel like the human-to-human interaction can help in certain situations.

            As I have mentioned too many times, the schools here are different. Maybe this set up only works in this school because it is all they have, and what they are forced to endure. I know there are some teachers who prefer to stick to themselves and mind their own business who may be reading this and disagreeing with me, but as a pretty social being, I think I would enjoy this set up; specifically the quick, convenient responses and fun, close environment.