What Makes It Worth It
- aecordray
- Feb 8, 2016
- 4 min read
Just Another Not So Ordinary Day
After working in Thailand for almost six months, I can now confidently say that nothing can faze me anymore. Before beginning my teaching fellowship I was already a pretty flexible person, able to roll with whatever life threw my way, but I’ve now reached a whole new level of going with the flow.
This past week I had the unique opportunity of teaching English to the entirety of the Mae La Noi police force approximately 12 hours after I learned I would be doing so. I had wandered into town, stomach rumbling over the thought of a warm ham and cheese toastie from 7-11, when I bumped into one of my fellow English teachers. She informed me that she was looking for me (the fact that she was looking for me at 7-11 should probably make me reevaluate the frequency at which I visit that establishment) and she needed my help. Apparently, the Mae La Noi police force had asked that we give them a one-hour English lesson and this lesson would be happening the following morning. With no time to waste, my teacher friend and I spent the night creating a lesson plan tailored to the vocabulary the police might need to use on a daily basis.
The following morning we were greeted by a room full of policemen, ready to learn and even more ready to take dozens of photos with the visiting teachers. We practiced what to say in the case of a motorcycle or car accident and how to give directions to tourists who were hopelessly lost. The lesson seemed to be a hit and it was a fun to work with “students” whose average ages were about double what I’m used to.

With members of the Mae La Noi Policeforce
When It Clicks
This past week in the classroom has also been unique in the number of times I have almost been reduced to tears. Now before you get worried (Mom) I promise you, this is a very good thing. I am finally starting to see firsthand the impact I have made on my students and it’s a really beautiful thing.
When I first came to Mae La Noi Daroonsik the students were obviously very excited at the arrival of a new foreigner, but this excitement often turned to shyness in the classroom. After completing classwork I would ask for volunteers to share what they wrote. No hands would go up. After explaining an assignment I would ask if anyone had questions. No hands would go up. Even when some students asked to go to the bathroom they radiated shyness. Now this fear of speaking English in public did not apply to all of my students, but I had identified around 10 or so students in each of my classes that were virtually silent during class due to a mix of shyness and a lack of confidence in their own abilities.
Fast forward about six months. For homework, I had told my M 6/4 class (Grade 12) to write about what they wanted to be when they grew up and why. I decided to begin class by asking for volunteers to read what they wrote, expecting to be forced to call on students at random when no hands were raised. To my surprise, half a dozen hands shot up and it wasn’t just the number of hands that moved me, it was who they belonged to. Four of these students were boys and girls who wouldn’t speak a word of English to me when I first arrived and now they were excited to read something they had written aloud to the entire class. I don’t think I can accurately describe how proud I felt. And moments like this keep happening. I don’t know if the approaching end of the school year has suddenly given all of my students confidence, but it almost seems as if overnight they have all changed into confident and capable English learners.
As an English teacher my primary purpose is obviously to impart knowledge of the English language on my students and improve their skills in reading, writing, and speaking, but I don’t want that to be my sole purpose. If I can empower my students and foster a strong sense of self-confidence and genuine curiosity in each one, I think that’s a whole lot more meaningful than making them memorize the ABCs. The teaching that matters can’t always be found in a textbook.

Students' drawings of what they want to be when they grow up
Redefining Home
“So, when are you coming home?”
That question is thrown my way multiple times a week by friends and family members curious as to when I’ll be stepping foot on American soil again. At first, my answer was immediate: “Oh, sometime in late summer or early fall.” But now, my answer has changed, “What do you mean? I am home.”
During our childhood we are taught that “home” is whatever structure we share with whatever form of family we have. It’s a little house near Fort Hunt Park. Or a fancy townhome in Old Town. It’s a sense of place - a geographic location that you associate with the good and bad of growing up. But as years pass you begin realize that original definition of “home” just doesn’t cut it. It can’t explain the strong ties you have to that one community you invested your summers in or that city halfway across the world where you spent a semester pretending to study. Those places aren’t houses or apartments. You don’t write down their addresses when a form asks for your home address.
And that’s when you realize “home” has nothing to do with location and absolutely everything to do with people. It’s the connections you make with the people you meet that make a place feel like home. And I’m privileged enough to say I have homes all around the globe because of the amazing people in my life. That being said, Mae La Noi has grown to be one of my most beloved homes. I have been welcomed here not only as a new teacher, but also as a member of this vibrant and weird little community and every day I catch myself smiling at how lucky I truly am.

A hidden mural on campus
Yorumlar