Teaching without Credentials

Surprise, excitement and nerves filled my morning of teaching in the local Telugu Medium School -- a government -run school, which 17 HOINA boys attend. As we pulled up, I couldn’t help by notice the girls in uniforms across the street from campus going to the bathroom. We heard about the dismal state of the school’s bathrooms, but actually seeing the girls and boys relieving themselves in the gorgeous rice patties upset and angered me.

And that’s just the beginning. Upon pulling up to the school, we were greeted with what felt like 50 students at the gate. We walked in through the sea of students greeting us with waves, "hellos" and smiles to the main office.

Sarah, Sara and I planned to teach an English class to Telugu speaking students. Last week our leaders, Dana and Missy, along with HOINA staff member Buji, spoke with the headmaster of the school. He asked that we come and review with the students lessons they were just tested on. The value of us teaching, we’re told, is to introduce the students to the American English accent.

Upon entering our ninth class, the teacher told us the book we prepared from is too advance for her class. She then gave us a student’s reader and told us which story to review. After introducing us, she lingered for maybe three minutes as we read the story to the class. Then we were on our own.

- Left, Sarah asking the students for "thumbs up" to signal understanding. Right, Ramesh helping us lead the class.

Luckily Ramesh, a HOINA boy, took charge and began translating our words to Telegu and leading his fellow students. I felt really proud of his abilities – both in English and leadership – surprising after just two weeks with the HOINA children.

Our class had an odd ratio -- just six boys sitting on the right side of the room and 20 or more girls on the left. All of the children sat cross-legged on the concrete floor. The room, dimly lit by windows, was devoid of lighting fixtures. Stains and cracks filled the walls, yet the children stood out as very polished and happy.

The impromptu lesson focused on pronunciation and vocabulary. Applause and “thumbs up” provided our universal humor. Each time we asked if the students understood the meaning of a word, we’d look for thumbs up. After teaching for an hour, we dismissed our class even though the teacher didn’t return. We couldn’t find her and all of the other children were playing in the courtyard. It was 12:15 and lunch is supposed to be at one. Why weren’t the children in class?

A question that I suppose can’t be solved today.

Expectations

I find I’m pushing myself to new heights here at HOINA. Granted these new heights include perfecting and learning skills like French braiding, weaving friendship bracelets, performing a cappella, drawing and painting – but they are skills nonetheless.

The stimulus of my efforts, you ask? Well, the expectations of the HOINA children. I don’t want to let them down. I want to be everything and more than what they expect me to be. When I’m stumped by their homework questions they are surprised. It’s really a unique role – one similar to a parent if I had to guess.I noticed this feeling the other night when the Penn State girls, or “Churistars” as we like to call ourselves, prepared our a cappella performance of “Don’t Stop Beleivin’” by Journey (Glee style!). I tried to fully ignore my stage fright when singing and not giggle too much during our performance.

Our audience of 103 HOINA boys seemed to enjoy it. I really felt like we made them proud, especially when the boys randomly complimented our singing the rest of the night.

I also continue to meticulously work on a mosaic peacock slowing coming to life on the wall of one courtyard in the Boys’ Home. I know they’ll have to look at it every day, so I want them to enjoy its appearance.

To be a role model is a tireless endeavor. I find myself ignoring my aches, discomfort and hunger when I’m helping the children with homework or working to beautify their home. I wonder what our time means to them, especially realizing we leave in a week. What happens when we go? Will our guidance live on?

Treated like Royalty

The only other times in my life when I felt like royalty occurred when I paid to be treated as such. These always involved some type of pampering – manicures, pedicures, facials and massages. Yet, there is no guilt over others fawning over you in these situations. You paid the price and now you enjoy.

Yesterday, we went to the O.P. Jindal English Medium School in Kothavalasa, Andra Pradesh. A lot of the HOINA children attend this private school where the classes are taught in English. Usually the children have school six days a week, but the special occasion of “Founder’s Day” brought them to school on a Sunday.

“Founder’s Day” celebrates the birthday of the late Sri Ram Jindal, as you guessed the founder of the school. Our group of 12 Penn Staters received a special invitation to the ceremony. We arrived on campus around 9:30 a.m. only to be received as royalty. Our HOINA brothers and sisters swarmed, claiming their favorite in our group to show off to their friends. Ashveni, a 14-year-old HOINA gal, escorted me around the campus taking me into each of the classrooms where the students were supposed to be quietly waiting for the start of the ceremony.Each classroom would erupt in greetings as soon as I entered, the students rising from their seats to wish me a “Happy Friendship Day”.

- Ashwini's seventh grade class
Instantly, twenty hands would be outstretched and a circle of children surrounded me. Some brave students, mostly the boys, stood on desks for a better view of the proceedings.Almost all of the children wanted their picture taken and loved when I showed them the digital image on my camera of the photo I just took. After a bit, Ashveni took over as photographer of our escapades, loving the power she had to document our journey.

Throughout the 45 minutes of appearances in 10 classrooms, I focused on not becoming overwhelmed by the situation. Rather, I made eye contact with one student at a time and asked their name. Then I attempted to pronounce each with giggles from my audience. Occasionally, I posed for pictures. The dark classrooms required we use a flash, with each picture revealing my sweaty face. This must be how royalty, powerful politicians and celebrities feel. A tiring experience, yet fantastic nonetheless. I am grateful I could greet the students with, “Happy Friendship Day”, which in my opinion put us on an equal level and garnered mutual understanding.

Back to the Basics

Thursday, August 4, 2011
This evening I stayed at the HOINA Boys’ Home after dinner. Most nights I go to the Girls' Home and sit with Indu, Krisnawini and Ashwini. Instead tonight I cultivated my previously generic relations with the fifth class (fifth grade) and ninth class (ninth grade) boys.

Rajiv (my first friend at HOINA) led a lot of my discussion with the ninth class boys. All of these boys are very curious about language and they still remember Spanish taught to them by the Penn State students who came last year!

I spent time teaching the boys greetings in Italian, writing the words in their notebooks to practice. In return they taught me Telugu and Hindi, but spelled out the words as they sound using the English alphabet.

With the fifth class boys, we spent time reading from their English book reviewing the words persuade, message and brand. The reading exercise talked about brands using famous actresses or cricket players to advertise their product. I had each boy read a paragraph, then they asked me to explain its meaning. It’s so thrilling to go back to the basics. It garners in me a new sense of appreciation for the basics and the love of learning.

We also discussed our goals for our lives. Little Saikumar (there are two Siakumars!), said he wants to be a police officer and asked me what steps he should take. It’s not an area I’m too familiar with but I love the idea of promoting university study. I told him to attend the university and study criminal justice then go through training with the police. (If anyone has more informed advice that is perhaps India specific please share in the comments!!!)

Tonight when Rajiv said, “Sister, you talk so freely with us,” I worried if I had gone too far or said something wrong. But, when I asked him this he said, “No, we just appreciate the variety of what you are teaching us. Thank-you, sister.”

“My favorite time of the year is when you all come,” Rajiv later said and my heart exploded. I’m so happy to be here.