Entry Level and Progress

Ponna

I recently started teaching an entry level class in the morning.

“How are you?” I ask a newer student.

She stares at me blankly while her classmate elbows her whispering fiercely, “I am fine. I am fine.”

“I am fine,” she shyly answers, her voice barely above a whisper.

I find myself becoming attached to this class. We’re hardly parked at school before an entourage of small boys come swarming out, opening up my door. Eager hands snatch my backpack and triumphantly carry it to the table for me.

Although we have a large language barrier, I enjoy interacting with these students. I have

Leena

five boys. Sna, the little boy who loves to carry my bag, is hyperactive and excitable, but not the most excellent of students. He’s too busy telling the others how to do it to fully understand how himself. Monarea is a bright boy. He knows a lot, compared to the rest of the class, but he feels a little like he already knows it all. Noich is very smart. Luke said he learned everything about letter sounds from just sitting in class (minimum participation. Earlier Luke had a few students who weren’t really his students, but just sat and listened). Sokdom and Dara don’t say a whole lot. Sokdom knows some and Dara knows much less.

I have seven girls. Leseang is almost too young to be in class. She doesn’t know how to read Khmer yet, so I don’t have super high expectations on teaching her to read English. Her sister goes to Michael’s class, so I agreed to teach her. Leena and Ponna are both bright, but a little impatient. Raddet doesn’t attend so well, but she knew NOTHING when I started teaching her two weeks ago, and she’s caught on fairly fast. Sara is an attention starved child. She can be a handful. When she comes I almost hold my breath waiting for something to happen. Sayda is rather quiet and not very regular. Navwee is an adorable girl who quietly slips into class and studiously works. After class I’ll sometimes talk with her, and her shy smile transforms her face.

Put it all together, I think I’m becoming too attached. I don’t have much longer here, and I find twelve new strings tying my heart down. It’s going to be difficult to leave.

Teaching an entry level class is a whole new challenge for me. It reinforced the realization of how far my afternoon class really came, because when I first started teaching them, some of them weren’t much ahead of these youngsters. It reminds me of my first day teaching my afternoon class…

I stood in front of the students and stared back at the 20 pairs of curious eyes. They all looked the same. “My name is Jody,” I said slowly. “What is your name?” I walked by each student getting them to spell their names for me. By the end of the first class I was overwhelmed. Half the students hardly knew the ABC’s while the other half could read simple words and were ready to move on.

Pom

Frustrated, I tried to steer a middle course, which was way too fast for the students who didn’t know, but much too slow for the ones who did. I lost a few good students and many of the bad ones, but a few stuck it out. As the weeks slowly progressed I began to bond with these boys. Although I felt like I failed at teaching them English, we at least began to have fun.

Months slowly melted into each other, and now here I am over a year later with basically the same class (a few girls now attend too, which the boys at first resented). The difference is astounding really. They don’t speak near perfect English, but… looking back I can hardly believe these are the same students!

The other day there was a party going on at school, so only five of my usual ten came. They

Kimlean, Iy, and Mongol

cried, “Today no learn.”

“Today we will learn a little,” I smile at their excitement. I couldn’t blame them for wanting to take off to watch the activity.

“Tomorrow maybe not come,” Ya says.

When I ask why, he doesn’t know the English for it, but I know it’s the party going on at the school. “Will you come tomorrow?” I ask.

Soklat says, “I come.”

Iy, Mongol, and Ya

“Mongol, will you come?” I ask.

“Yes, I come,” Mongol says and Kimlean echoes his reply.

“Maybe I come. Maybe no come,” Ya says.

“Kanya?” I ask the other girl. “Will you come?”

Kanya grins. The others laugh. “Kanya lazy. She no come,” they say.

After we study a bit I ask what game they want to play. Soklat says, “Class Michael play bingo for candy.”

“I don’t have candy,” I grin.

Ya leaps up. “Soklat give me money. I drive moto Luke. Go buy candy.”

“No,” Soklat cries. “Ya give money. I drive moto Luke. Go buy candy.”

We decide to play with flash cards. I describe the picture and they have to say what it is. For example: it is an apple. I may say, “It is a fruit. It is a circle. Sometimes it is red and sometimes it is green.” My heart swells as they carefully listen. I want to get them to the point where they’re the ones describing the card, but they’re just not there yet.

I wish I could remember what I was telling them… but I love the confused, concentrated looks on their faces.

I still struggle sometimes teaching these students. Some don’t understand what’s going on, while others can become bored, but I can’t help being extremely proud of them. They’ve come so far, and it’s going to be hard to leave them. I will miss this class. Not just because I have fun with them now, but also because of all the struggles we went through earlier.