So after a week or so of going to the wrong classrooms or finding out that a particular teacher isn't scheduled to have me, I've finally started re-arranging my Stundenplan (thats timetable to some of you) so I know where I'm meant to be, at what time, and with whom. This will hopefully see an end to me knocking on the doors of classrooms that I've had to hunt down* because there's been a slight change, only to have the door opened by some teacher whose name I don't know, wondering why there's an English kid stalking their lesson speaking pidgin German at them.
*There's actually not a great deal of 'hunting' for the classrooms, seeing as the whole building is one big square, and the rooms just go round the edge on 2 levels. No corridors or anything like that, but it still throws me when I have a room change.
Today I forgot that my lesson with the 13th Grade had been cancelled, which means that I did all of the above but to a meeting of teachers and probably some important Germans, instead of just the one teacher and some kids. Unfortunately, the teacher who had told me that the lesson was cancelled was present too, and she embarrassingly pointed this fact out in front of her many colleagues. It was like the German school equivalent of being in a busy supermarket checkout queue with an unsubtle cashier - "Hey, can I get a price check on the No-More-Farts Medicine? And the Dr. Shits-a-lot Constipation Tablets?"
Ohhhhhh, I'm a retard.
Tomorrow is going ahead with my teaching solo debut; the teacher isn't even going to be sitting silently in a corner like they suggested would be the case at Altenberg. I could deal with that, but apparently Frau Biehl is off doing something else. She might just regret that at the end of tomorrow. I've been given quite a lot to work with, and it's a Grundkurs (basic course) which means that I can stretch out the hour and a half I'm with them by speaking English very slowly.
I'm pretty grateful for all the material I've got actually, some writing exercises, going over their homework, matching words to definitions, that sort of thing. It can only go better than my first 'class' yesterday, which was a fucking shambles. This is my class that I've been given free reign over; apparently I can do anything with these kids. Not in a weird way, dickwads. I mean the topics we focus on and the content of the class is totally up to me.
Now, I can't deal with that. I can't work without instruction. I need to be told something to aim toward, or I'm lost for ideas and inspiration. "But Max", you say, "this time you get to choose which topic you aim towa-" NO. No, I need a little more guidance than that. This class in particular is a difficult task for me. I have little to no teaching experience and its near impossible to pick out a topic that can suit all of them.
I've started; I'll continue: the different skill levels in this group make it really difficult to gauge what kind of material I can use. Out of 11, there are 3 whose english is good enough for me to converse with them at a pretty decent standard. The others range from 'not much knowledge of english, but just enough to get by', all the way to being able to say 'my name is __' and virtually nothing else.
And apart from that, they're all 'kiddy' kids. Theres one girl from Portugal, one who's English is pretty good, and she's great in the sense that she seems to understand I'm not a born teacher and that I'm finding all this malarky a bit of a challenge, even though she's only 11. Then theres a group of boys who are polite and want to improve, but piss about too much for me to really help them. And theres a girl from Kenya, again who speaks good English, but can't be arsed with half the stuff I suggest, because its either too simple for her or too boring.
Theres a Romanian kid about 10 or 11 who thinks he's Gods gift to the English langauge, but he's one of those kids who, initially, you think 'wow, this guys enthusiastic!' which descends quickly into 'I am gonna beat you with this dictionary. Shut up. Shut up.' And rounding off the team theres an Italian guy who looks like I did when I was 17, but with the personality of a dead sloth, and a French girl, who's a bit pretentious and flamboyant and French.
So I have to come up with something new for them for Monday, seeing as last time the only way I scraped back some shreds of dignity, by the skin of my fucking teeth, was teaching them all Heads, shoulders, knees and toes, which was .. lets not go there.
Fun. Fun fun fun fun. So that's school.
Did any of you guys in Germany see Brokeback Mountain the other night? Oh, my god. I'd never seen it in English, but in German? Theres something about it being in German that makes it so much more gay than it already is. I mean, even by English standards, its pretty gay. There's not a lot in the way of breaking it to you slowly either. The first 20 minutes or so kinda goes "Right, lets herd some sheep. Brrrr, bit cold out here. You better come in this here tent, away from the cold. Brr, still a bit cold. Spoon me, Heath Ledger. Spoon me up the bum." Then they fight and have families and Jake Gyllenhaal dies. And Heath Ledger is left with the bloodied shirts they wore that day when they fought, aww. Warning! Spoilers.
Whatever, it didn't make me cry or anything. Probably it being in German took most of the emotional whatnot out of it.
But, sadly, Brokeback Mountain has truly and utterly destroyed the 'Gay german men are easier to understand' theory, of which I so often speak of. Brokeback Mountain + German would theoretically support my idea, but it doesn't, so I'm back to square 1. Rachel Lane-Dixon, I'm sorry.
Disclaimer: Watching Brokeback Mountain alone does not make me gay by default.
*There's actually not a great deal of 'hunting' for the classrooms, seeing as the whole building is one big square, and the rooms just go round the edge on 2 levels. No corridors or anything like that, but it still throws me when I have a room change.
Today I forgot that my lesson with the 13th Grade had been cancelled, which means that I did all of the above but to a meeting of teachers and probably some important Germans, instead of just the one teacher and some kids. Unfortunately, the teacher who had told me that the lesson was cancelled was present too, and she embarrassingly pointed this fact out in front of her many colleagues. It was like the German school equivalent of being in a busy supermarket checkout queue with an unsubtle cashier - "Hey, can I get a price check on the No-More-Farts Medicine? And the Dr. Shits-a-lot Constipation Tablets?"
Ohhhhhh, I'm a retard.
Tomorrow is going ahead with my teaching solo debut; the teacher isn't even going to be sitting silently in a corner like they suggested would be the case at Altenberg. I could deal with that, but apparently Frau Biehl is off doing something else. She might just regret that at the end of tomorrow. I've been given quite a lot to work with, and it's a Grundkurs (basic course) which means that I can stretch out the hour and a half I'm with them by speaking English very slowly.
I'm pretty grateful for all the material I've got actually, some writing exercises, going over their homework, matching words to definitions, that sort of thing. It can only go better than my first 'class' yesterday, which was a fucking shambles. This is my class that I've been given free reign over; apparently I can do anything with these kids. Not in a weird way, dickwads. I mean the topics we focus on and the content of the class is totally up to me.
Now, I can't deal with that. I can't work without instruction. I need to be told something to aim toward, or I'm lost for ideas and inspiration. "But Max", you say, "this time you get to choose which topic you aim towa-" NO. No, I need a little more guidance than that. This class in particular is a difficult task for me. I have little to no teaching experience and its near impossible to pick out a topic that can suit all of them.
I've started; I'll continue: the different skill levels in this group make it really difficult to gauge what kind of material I can use. Out of 11, there are 3 whose english is good enough for me to converse with them at a pretty decent standard. The others range from 'not much knowledge of english, but just enough to get by', all the way to being able to say 'my name is __' and virtually nothing else.
And apart from that, they're all 'kiddy' kids. Theres one girl from Portugal, one who's English is pretty good, and she's great in the sense that she seems to understand I'm not a born teacher and that I'm finding all this malarky a bit of a challenge, even though she's only 11. Then theres a group of boys who are polite and want to improve, but piss about too much for me to really help them. And theres a girl from Kenya, again who speaks good English, but can't be arsed with half the stuff I suggest, because its either too simple for her or too boring.
Theres a Romanian kid about 10 or 11 who thinks he's Gods gift to the English langauge, but he's one of those kids who, initially, you think 'wow, this guys enthusiastic!' which descends quickly into 'I am gonna beat you with this dictionary. Shut up. Shut up.' And rounding off the team theres an Italian guy who looks like I did when I was 17, but with the personality of a dead sloth, and a French girl, who's a bit pretentious and flamboyant and French.
So I have to come up with something new for them for Monday, seeing as last time the only way I scraped back some shreds of dignity, by the skin of my fucking teeth, was teaching them all Heads, shoulders, knees and toes, which was .. lets not go there.
Fun. Fun fun fun fun. So that's school.
Did any of you guys in Germany see Brokeback Mountain the other night? Oh, my god. I'd never seen it in English, but in German? Theres something about it being in German that makes it so much more gay than it already is. I mean, even by English standards, its pretty gay. There's not a lot in the way of breaking it to you slowly either. The first 20 minutes or so kinda goes "Right, lets herd some sheep. Brrrr, bit cold out here. You better come in this here tent, away from the cold. Brr, still a bit cold. Spoon me, Heath Ledger. Spoon me up the bum." Then they fight and have families and Jake Gyllenhaal dies. And Heath Ledger is left with the bloodied shirts they wore that day when they fought, aww. Warning! Spoilers.
Whatever, it didn't make me cry or anything. Probably it being in German took most of the emotional whatnot out of it.
But, sadly, Brokeback Mountain has truly and utterly destroyed the 'Gay german men are easier to understand' theory, of which I so often speak of. Brokeback Mountain + German would theoretically support my idea, but it doesn't, so I'm back to square 1. Rachel Lane-Dixon, I'm sorry.
Disclaimer: Watching Brokeback Mountain alone does not make me gay by default.
