When I walked into the room today, none of the students
greeted me. In fact they completely ignored my own greeting and continued their
boisterous activities. Cinthia had pulled the teacher’s chair up to one of her
friend’s desk and was sitting in it. I said, “Cinthia, will you please return
my chair to where it belongs?” She ignored me. I had to ask three times before
she finally pushed it a few feet away and returned to her own desk. “Cinthia, I
have asked you to put the chair back where it belongs.” She looked up at me and
said, “You have legs. Do it yourself.”
Today, as is typical, Luz, Danna, Cinthia and Ishla led the
class in various forms of defiance and disrespect. They would stomp their feet
and get everyone to do it, and then when I asked them to stop a student
“rebelled” by sticking his legs straight out in front of him. They also rapped on their desk and performed
various other acts of disturbance. Next they moved on to coughing in unison,
and Cinthia ran outside of the classroom twice
without asking permission to “cough outside” where she laughed and danced
around before coming back into the room. “Miss, I’m sick” she would
automatically claim as she entered back into the room. Other times students
have read so quietly that no one could hear them. Just yesterday, I asked Ishla
and Danna at different times to write something on the board, and they both
wrote with microscopic font. The majority of the times when I call on them,
they will play dumb. The answers are obvious—for instance, yesterday I asked one
of them, “Should singular subjects agree with plural or singular verbs?” and
the student said, “Miss, I don’t know.” This is a small example—I was finding
that nearly every question I asked them, whether devised by me or from their
workbooks, they would claim, “I don’t know. I don’t understand anything.” And
then proceed to tune out the rest of my lesson.
At another point in class today, four girls (Luz, Danna,
Cinthia and Ishla) kept derailing my instructions regarding an upcoming exam. I
had made it clear that I was not going to discuss anything unrelated to this
future exam because I wanted to be certain that the students understood my
expectations. However, the students would not stop talking and barely paid
attention. I heard another of their favorite phrases—“Miss I don’t
understand.”—from a student who hadn’t paid attention to anything I’d said
previously. And the four girls kept asking me unrelated questions.
When I did open up our discussion to other matters, the four
girls became increasingly belligerent towards me. They were frustrated and
questioning me over a past exam and whether or not I would drop their (failing)
grades. (Three had skipped the first twenty minutes of a class once and missed
out on a quiz that the rest of the students were taking. I had previously
stated that I was considering dropping this quiz, but also indicated that I was
not certain. Given their behavior in class at this point I do not consider
dropping this quiz to be an option.) I attempted to address them civilly but
warned them that I would not continue engaging in conversation if they were
going to continue their disrespectful line of questioning. They did not change
their behavior, so I told them I wasn’t going to talk about it any more.
Cinthia fired at me, “Miss, my father pays you a lot of money to teach. You
need to be a good teacher and talk to us.”
I found this comment rather offensive but masked my
irritation and attempted to dignify her with a response. “Cinthia, while your
father’s money is a nice gesture, I am not here to make money. I am here
because I actually want to be here.”
(“That’s the right attitude, Miss!” encouraged one of the other students—one of the few that have remained respectful.)
(“That’s the right attitude, Miss!” encouraged one of the other students—one of the few that have remained respectful.)
I continued, “I am here because I want to help—I will do
whatever I can to help you guys out. But I am not going to deal with your
disrespect. There is no point in me engaging in conversation with you if you
are not going to talk to me civilly.”
I think the class is a self-contained unit, and I’ve learned
that I cannot rely on outside forces to control the behaviors inside the room.
However, this class is encouraged in their behavior BY outside forces—so I am
swimming upstream in effort to curtail disrespect which has been encouraged—by
Mr. Mayorga, parents, and even Mr. Rodriguez in his efforts to “counsel” them.
It’s infuriating to me that this has been allowed to continue.
That Cinthia was granted the privilege of classroom instruction with me after
her disrespect and obscene language—and that she was discharged with little more
than a slap on the wrist. That experience apparently taught her nothing, as her
disrespect has only grown.
A variety of explanations has been given as to why these
students are acting out so much in my class. From boredom to teacher
ineptitude, I’ve heard it all. I wanted so badly for things to go well that I
was determined to work very hard in order to assure myself that I’d done
everything I could to reach them. But despite my efforts, most of the students
shut down the moment I walk into the room. Whatever I have to say is a rather
moot when the students barely acknowledge my entrance, slouch or put their head
down repeatedly, and feign ignorance whenever I call on them.
They are determined not to learn from me, and I don’t see
the point in continuing to fight them on this issue. Class is not meant to be a
battle. The anxiety I feel before entering the room is awful. I am effectively
being bullied by my own students. This is so far from what I hoped would occur
when I came to Honduras. I fell in love with the country, but have fallen out
of favor with the school.
I don’t like admitting that I’m failing—but I really don’t
forsee any changes in the future. I don’t see any point in me continuing to
teach these students. They obviously have determined there is no point in
learning from me. I also wonder if I
should continue to teach at the school at all—as these problems are systemic.
I believe I’m rather realistic about things. I know that I
am not a perfect teacher. I had some prior training and experience, but I still
felt overwhelmed in this environment. I am sure that there are many other
talented teachers who would never have come to this circumstance in the first
place. The unfortunate reality is that we are
in this circumstance and all prior efforts to ameliorate the situation have not
done so.
I appreciated meeting with you and am glad that you took the
time to talk with us—but I can’t wait around for more meetings and more
promises.
It’s so late in the year to make changes to a schedule, and
yet with the continued disrespect and refusal to participate, I see no benefit
from the status quo.
I will follow whatever instructions you have. If that means
discharging me from teaching 11th grade—or letting me go as a
teacher in general, I will accept your decision with no hard feelings. I am
completely opening myself up to whatever you and the administration decide is
the best course of action.
Thank you for your time and consideration in all of this. I
appreciate the effort that you’ve put forth—not only with these recent hurdles,
but even back to settling Eric and Candra in their apartments and all the
assistance since.
Best,
Hannah
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