The Traditional Dancing

Welp, your dream has come true. Click the following link to watch me shake my obruni butt to some African drumming:

Boogie Night in Kumasi

Some Exploration

The school we are teaching at had some sort of a midterm holiday, so we did not go to school today. Instead, we decided to explore Kumasi a bit.

We began the day at Tech Junction, which is an incredibly busy and overwhelming market. The closest thing I can compare it to is a street fair  that takes place in the middle of the street. Every step we took either brought us in contact with a vendor pushing his or her product, a taxi cab blaring its horn, or one of the many women (sometimes men) selling various goods from the buckets that they carry on their heads. We all went with the intention of finding some sort of fabric for our shirts or dresses, and seamstresses and tailors who can make them.

The girls knew of the seamstress they wanted to go to, and were consumed by the many different types of dresses that could be made. As for me, I had to find someone to make my shirt. While the girls went back and forth on the types of dresses and types of fabric they would like to use, the process for me took roughly 3 minutes. I walked into a little hut, asked a man to make me a shirt, one of his workers brought me to the fabric, I picked out a crazy pattern, pointed at a shirt type, got measured, and paid. I pick up my shirt on Monday, and I can't wait to see how it comes out.

I don't like to shop, so luckily, we had time to have a beer break:

This little outdoor bar was a cool little spot. It had a lot more lizards than the bars I go to in the States. We even watched one hunt down a fly and eat it. 

Some of us were craving pizza, so we asked a cab driver to bring us to somewhere with pizza. I think all of us were craving a little bit of America, and the pizza did the trick. We also got some french fries, just because. 

The restaurant was right outside of Baba Yara Stadium, which is a soccer stadium that houses various professional clubs from Kumasi. We are trying our best to coordinate a time and date to see a professional game. This is a student teaching experience and a cultural experience, and from hearing about soccer (football) every day, wherever I go, I think seeing a game would be a very important cultural experience. 

We kind of just walked into the stadium. Notice the Ghanaian Flag
in the stadium seats. 

First Day of Teaching and Dance Lessons

Today, the manager raised his right hand and I was called in from the bullpen - it was the day where I was finally able to get up in front of the class and teach (that is a totally American reference, but I couldn't help myself - it fit).

Some of my boys: Phillip (yellow), Kwaduo
(orange), and Elvis (purple)

My first lesson, albeit very simple, went very well, and I believe that the students will now be able to see me as their teacher, and not just a fun new person who sits in the classroom, as this picture may suggest. The lesson involved a reading comprehension passage about communicating using the telephone. I activated the students' schema (recalled prior knowledge) at the beginning of the lesson and talked about ways that they communicate every day. The students were excited to talk about the many social networks they belong to, which worked absolutely perfectly for the lesson, which discusses old communication devices and newer devices. Something that I observed in several classes, and something that my teacher asked me to do, is read through the passage several times with the class. When I saw my teacher teach a lesson similar to this, my teacher read the passage once, and then called on six students in a row to read the passage out loud (half each, so three times through, four times total). While this happened, what I really saw was one student standing up and reading aloud, and 44 other students picking their nose, poking their neighbor, or falling asleep. This way of reading is not engaging in the least. I do not want to disturb the teacher's processes and student learning by making a splash with all my new and different teaching techniques, so instead, I am slowly testing the water, and infusing a little bit of myself into each lesson I produce. In order to change this process slowly, I read the passage first, and then, before I had the first two students read the passage, I gave the students a focus question to ponder while reading. None of the questions I provided could be directly answered, but certain ideas could be found in the text. Unlike what I observed, the students were very engaged while they read, and many students were able to pull out important pieces of information to answer the given questions, which will help them even further when they are assigned comprehension questions that are based on the article and are graded. I will continue to add more and more of my American flavor to this classroom, and hopefully the students will end up better off because of it.

After school, our Geneseo/UAlbany group took part in a cultural seminar of sorts that involved a lot of dancing and a lot of sweating. We were taught several traditional Ghanaian dances from different regions of the country. I am unable to remember the names of these dances because I was too busy trying to learn them and trying not to pass out. Even at dusk, the heat was heavy and suffocating. Our two teachers, Flavor and Alaska, pushed us through the pain and helped us to the best of their abilities - as you may imagine, a dance instructor named Flavor may have a little bit more flavor than me. Despite the sweat, and now, as I write this, sore muscles, the group had a good time. Apparently we are going to continue with these dance lessons in the coming weeks, and on Thanksgiving, give a little performance. I am not sure where, to whom, or how exactly this is going to happen, but I hope for your sake that there is some sort of video evidence. For now, settle for some photographic evidence:

Just a few "obrunis" (white people...I have been referred to as
 this several times) getting down with it 

Culture Shock

We were warned. Culture shock exists, and it follows a very specific curve. Without even realizing, I have fallen perfectly into this curve, and am experiencing every bit of emotion. First, "everything is new, interesting, and exciting," and it still is, but soon after, "...frustration sets in."This adventure will result in a lot of growing, and although what I take away will end up being positive, that does not mean I cannot feel some frustration.

Like I mentioned in a previous post, everything here is just different. Not bad different... just different. This can be a little bit frustrating at times. It may be especially hard for me because of the relationship I had with my cooperating teacher in my previous placement, but I am having so much trouble communicating with my cooperating teacher. I have assignments that need to be done, criteria that needs to be met, and a desire to teach that needs to be fulfilled. My teacher does not quite get this, and I am trying to get these points across with little success. I am teaching my first lesson tomorrow, but what originated as an 80 minute plan has been reduced to 50 minutes, and I have no idea what my unit plan will be on, and cannot begin preparing. I know I need to have patience, and I need to be understanding (sometimes this is easier said than done... my mother can attest that I am not so patient sometimes). I am a visitor in her classroom, and while I want to take over and do everything my way, that is just not how it is going to work. 

Unfortunately, today was the day that I was finally a witness to my teacher using the cane. Teachers in the junior high and even in the primary schools (kids as young as 5), use the cane as their behavior management plan/disciplinary tactic. Kids are caned for reasons such as talking out of turn, disturbing the class, not following dress codes, or even getting questions wrong. I do my best not to flinch or wince when the students are getting hit on their arms, backs, hands, or legs, because when the students are whacked, I can feel some of the pain - both physical and mental. I suppose the teachers believe that the combination of pain and shame will quite literally whip the kids into shape and make them work harder and behave better. I do not believe this. I believe positive reinforcement and respect can bring students a lot further along than corporal punishment. Again, this shows how I am frustrated and confused. 

I cannot and will not change that what seems like indifference of my cooperating teacher, or her attitudes on behavior and discipline. I believe the cultural barriers presented are going to be a challenge to overcome, but I will learn and I will find ways. 

One thing that successfully does cross cultures? Puberty. While giving an example of how to use a question mark, one of my students (male, obviously) asked, "Is that woman pregnant?" Everyone in the class, including myself, erupted in laughter. The question had absolutely zero relevance to anything, but the student just had to say the word pregnant in class. While puberty usually only brings strong, stale body odor, this example of puberty was rather refreshing.

HF-L and the KNUST Basic School are...Different.

This was my classroom at Honeoye Falls-Lima High School.

This is my classroom at the KNUST Basic School

Today was another Monday that I missed seeing my students from HF-L. Instead of hopping in my white Ford Explorer Sport, heading down 390, and following some country roads while the sun rose, I walked down a dirt road, hailed a taxi cab, rode through the pot hole filled streets of a busy college campus, and arrived at the Basic School. I know that no matter where I had my second placement I would miss my students, so there is no surprise there; however, I am having trouble connecting with these students as I did with my HFL 11th graders and adjusting to the new environment. 

Before I even get into the differences in the students, the discrepancies between the amount of technology present in the classroom needs addressing. While I am in my Ghana classroom, I am breaking everything down to the bare bones of teaching. Students copy notes from the board, and there isn't a projector, smartboard, or even a computer in sight. Being creative is taking a lot more thought, and I am struggling a bit. My HF-L kids will remember at least one of my lessons that revolved around using SmartSoftware and the scentio remotes to survey the class - it was awesome (if I do say so). I can't even think about any of that while I am in this country.

Unlike traditional American high schools, teachers change classes, and students do not. I have three 8th grade classes: 8E, 8F, and 8G, and all three spend the entire day (except for their two half hour breaks) in their respective rooms. Because of this, I have no time to talk to students prior to class, and no students stay after class to talk with me. I believe that is where I forged some of the best relationships with students at HF-L. As if it wasn't hard enough that I don't have this time to spend with students, the three classes I have only meet three times a week, and each class has a minimum of 45 students! I thought my 28 student fourth set class was difficult, but this is on another level. 

While in my first placement, I was amazed to hear some analysis and thought that some of my students had. My favorite parts of some lessons was sitting back and listening to them spout brilliantly insightful responses and well thought out claims. Sometimes I would just sit back and listen and forget I had to teach. In this classroom, the students do not have as much freedom. When students are called on to answer a question, they stand up, recite their answer, and sit down. The questions are usually very black and white, and don't require much critical thinking. The teacher focuses a lot on proper grammar and punctuation, which can take away from other content sometimes and actually becomes the content in some cases. I want to work on unlocking some of this creativity, but I must do so slowly and carefully, so they are not too shocked at how different my lessons are from my cooperating teacher's lessons. 

To all my HF-L kids: I hope you are continuing to have a great year, and I hope you know that I am thinking of you all every day! I can't stress enough how much you have all impacted me as a teacher and as a human being. Hopefully Mrs. Borrelli is sharing this with you, and I hope you all keep up with this! If you have any pressing questions for me, you can go through Mrs. Borrelli, or ask her for my email.. I'd love to hear from you!

Week 1 Photojournal

Bill Gates and Billgate

Pictured to the left is Bill Gates. Pictured to the right is Billgate. Yes, this boy’s name is Billgate. Billgate is writing his unit test with a blue Papermate pen that I gave him the day before. While he was writing his notes, I saw him violently shaking his pen, trying to get every bit of ink out of it. He was pressing the pen so hard into his notebook that I thought he might even rip through the page. My first thought was, “Why wouldn’t he just use a different pen?” I soon after put together that he did not have another. I reached into my backpack and grabbed the first (of many) pens I had on reserve, and put it on his desk. The boy looked up at me and smiled from ear to ear. I saw him after the class showing his new pen off to some boys around him. When the period ended, he came up to me with the pen, and tried giving it back. I asked if he needed it for the rest of the day, and he looked up at me with the same smile he smiled earlier and nodded. The next day when I walked into class, he showed me that he was writing with the pen, and looked just as excited as he was the day before.

            Before leaving for Ghana, at one of the many preparation meetings I attended, a Ghanaian student who is studying at Geneseo told us that he wishes we would go and teach in one of Kumasi’s outer villages, because they are the ones that need the most help. This made me think a lot about the meaning of this trip. I am going on a trip to a foreign country to learn about its culture and to complete my second student teaching placement. Of course, I figured that I would certainly be helping some people in this third world country with resources that I am bringing, some ideas I will implement, and the positive attitude I possess, and I looked forward to that. This student’s assertion that we were merely “the rich helping the rich” upset me quite a bit.

            At the time, I did not know much about the villages around Kumasi, nor did I know much about the school I am teaching at. I now have experience in both. After visiting the village of Asuofua, it is evident that this area is significantly more impoverished than other parts of Ghana I have seen, specifically the KNUST campus. It became very clear, that, as our professor assured us, there would be no way to ensure safety and a sound student teaching experience in this environment. While we would all love to help any way we can, this is a trip for student teaching, not for mission work. The KNUST Basic School began as a place for professors to send their children, but has become more public. Currently, there is a mix of both professors’ children, and children from the surrounding area. At first glance, it seems that the Ghanaian Geneseo student was right, compared to the villages, these students have it made. However, when I had this encounter with Billgate, I found that this is not completely the case. By giving him that blue Papermate pen, I can tell that I did “help,” and in doing so, gained a rapport with him and his surrounding students.

            When I asked Billgate why his parents named him Billgate, he shrugged, and said, “I guess my parents want me to be like him.” I told him that everything comes with hard work. Again, he looked up at me with the smile that I already know him for.

Who knows? Maybe one day he will be.

There are not many posters that adorn the walls of the KNUST Junior High School. There is usually nothing more than some penned graffiti on the four walls that enclose the forty-five students and their creaky wooden desks that are arranged in cramped rows. However, there is one poster in one of my classrooms, and in bold, block letters that reads: “RESPECT THE TEACHER.” This rule is embedded in students from an early age, and is remarkably apparent in each of the first days I have spent in this country and at this school.

            In my philosophy of education and during my first placement, respect is something that is referred to often, and is seen as imperative to the learning process. The respect that I believe in, and will always believe in, is a mutual respect between the teacher and the student. No entity is stronger or more important than the other, and as long as the students respect the teacher, the teacher will return that respect. When I first saw this poster that says, “RESPECT THE TEACHER,” I was glad to see that respect will be a big part of the classroom culture. However, in my few days of learning and watching, I have found this respect to be very one sided: the students do respect the teacher, but the teachers do not outwardly reciprocate the respect.

            The respect of the teacher can be seen in the classroom and all over campus. When a student sees a teacher, he or she always offers to carry what the teacher is holding to the classroom. When a teacher enters the classroom, students stand up, greet the teacher, and stand at attention until they are allowed to sit. If a teacher asks a student to run to the canteen (small market on the JHS campus, a kind of cafeteria) for a bag of water, or something to eat, the students do not hesitate. I have had students doing some of this for me and I have only been present for a few days! It is sad to see how little respect students get in return. Students are rarely thanked for the aforementioned favors. Some teachers pick on students about their weight, skin color (a light skinned boy was called a “white boy”), and religious affiliation. Most obviously, students are caned (hit with a wooden stick) for offenses such as wrong answers or talking out of turn.

            Now, I must make it clear that is neither my job nor my intention to fix this system – this is the system that is employed by this school, and reflects the culture of the country. What I plan on doing is taking what I have done and plan to do in the future, and add it into the classroom. I will show the students that if they respect me, I will respect them. The first way I showed the students I respect them is by going up to each student, shaking his or her hand, and learning his or her name. This took me quite a while, both because of the number of students and because of some difficult names, but the students were able to see that I am truly interested in them, and invested in their success. After, I told them that when they see me on campus or around town, to say hello to me, and that doing this would help me to remember their faces and names even more. I was greeted many times after that on campus, and even ran into a few students at Tech Junction. I hope that even a small implementation like this can help teachers see that students need to be respected as well, and hopefully how well the students respond to being respected. 

Some Quick Points

I spent some time writing photojournals today, which are a requirement for my program (I will put these up), so here are some quick updates:

- I may or may not be teaching a lesson on Monday. This is not completely clear, but I will plan as if I will be teaching.
- A student asked me if I watch iCarly, and then told me I look like the character Gibby.
- Visited a village outside of Kumasi, and learned how a family makes beads. They have been perfecting the trade for 200 years. Definitely got a few Christmas presents here.
- Got caught in our first torrential rain last night while on our way to some sort of party/event at the University.
- I am eating well - mostly rice with every meal. I would die for some Frank's hot sauce, because it's getting pretty repetitive.
- Rode in a tro-tro (shuttle bus), and bumped Biggie and Tupac with the driver in the front seat.

Here are a few pictures (click to enlarge):

Washer. Dryer. 

Here is one of my classrooms. My cooperating teacher,
"Princess Lady Diana," as she jokingly introduced herself,
is writing a test that the students are taking.

This is my buddy Frank. Dad says that
grandpa Frank is always looking after me,
so I guess it is no coincidence that Frank is
the boy who helped me order food for the first time.