cranky doubt, and frustration

 This is a record breaking week. I’ve decided to write another blog post just for shits and giggles. Mostly bc I want to share with ya’ll how im feeling. As a warning this post might be mildly self deprecating, so apologies.

So a few things. First of all. Today I wore these baggy ass harem pants, a long baggy bathing suit cover up and got tons of compliments. I mean honestly, it is probably one of the frumpiest outfits I have ever put together. But it was a big hit. Now the outfit that I put together yesterday that I thought was super cute… not  a word. Sometimes morocco is so unpredictable.

So as you all may or may not know every week I teach (or attempt to teach) at the student boarding house, where middle and high school aged kids stay during the week if their homes are too far away to commute in to the schools every morning. So. This is a ROUGH group of kids to teach. In my opinion I think a group of teens and pre-teens living together 6 days a week with minimal entertainment or adult supervision is bound to be a recipe for disaster, or at least a weird psychological make up in kid.  The boarding house is like a summer camp without any of the programming, ie just a bunch of kids living on bunkbeds in a room together. The craziest part is that I sought out the work there, no one asked me this year I scheduled myself into this.  Every week I think… it’s going to be easier, it’s going to be a better class, and it never is. Never. I question my judgment, my choices, my ideas, my abilities and my sanity.  Every week I have to fight and fight and fight and deal with non-stop shenanigans. Last week when for the third week running I was telling the middle schoolers they couldn’t come into my class one of them bit my finger. Motherfucker bit my finger, not hard, but still. Then this week he had the balls to tell me I wasn’t at the youth center when his class time is, which I was, I most definitely was. SHENANIGANS! I try to make a habit of not swearing in my classes but sometimes those words just tumble out of me unbidden, because at times there are no other words left.  The thing that does make me feel better is that I’m not the only PCV that has trouble controlling the chaos in the classroom.

 I have tried all sorts of tricks but nothing seems to work. One of the biggest battles is that I have become more strict on when I close the door and don’t let students in anymore, (because come on, you sleep, eat, and study less then 50 feet from the classroom –I  also announce a 2 minute (which is more like 5 minute) warning and a 1 minute warning, and then give another 10 minute lee-way before I close the door, which even taking in account the cultural perception of time here I think is more than generous). But without fail every week the same kids come late, then throw a fit, beg and plead, bang on the closed door, make pouty faces and just generally cause a ruckus and a general disruption. Its become common-place for kids to throw rocks at the thankfully high windows, and this week a girl even managed to break one, good job kid!  For the third week running you came late to class, for the third week running I told you come on time next week, and for the third week running you’ve interrupted the students who were able to come on time. Pain. In. my. Ass.

Also another totally unhelpful thing regarding time is for some unknown reason dinner has moved from 7:30 until 8 and then the kids have barely started eating until 8:15 which means that I’m teaching past 9pm. In my community you never see any ladies out after a certain hour. It is pretty unacceptable or unheard of for a woman to be out alone after a certain time of night unless it’s Ramadan. I wasn’t able to take the girls out of the student house compound  and go 30 feet away to the youth center because they’re girls and the sun is down, or something. I’m not 100% sure why but there’s definitely a culture here about having lady bits and being out after a certain time. I luckily fit into a grey area, because I’m not from morocco, but after a certain time it’s not just that I’m the only woman out and about I’m close to the only person out and a bout. So as a result while I’m pulling out my hair trying to get through a simple lesson, it could possibly effect my reputation around town.

When things get tough in the classroom it’s hard not to question my skills. I’m not an ESL teacher and as a result I’m often making shit up and pulling things out of my ass. I’ve been really up front and clear that I don’t know English grammar, kids say a verb tense or something and I say “I don’t know” “you probably know more then me. It’s legit I’m an English speaker, so that’s what I teach, speaking, listening and writing, not grammar, and I think it’s legit that I don’t know it.  I’ve been really blessed with an amazing and unique set of job opportunities, but in that uniqueness is a little bit its downfall, because besides the stuff I hear from the kids themselves or my co-workers/peers I have had zero feedback or observation on whether or not I’m actually good at what I’m trying to do, namely teaching. When I get stuck in these situations where week after week I’m fighting and trying I can’t help but wonder is it me?

 During my peace corps service it’s been really hard to know whether or not no one is coming because it’s not important to them, or  is it me, am I just a bad teacher? It’s legitimately impossible to know for sure (that is unless when the new volunteer gets here  and she has solid attendance or something, but even then it’s kind of unclear my time here has allowed her to do). With all the time I have to think and think and over-think and re-think and analyze and over-analyze then start over again as it’s easy to get wrapped up in maybe’s,  shoulda, coulda,woulda’s and what ifs- so I’ve tried my best to stop before it spirals out of control, or I harp on anything in particular, because at the end of the day those sorts of thoughts don’t add anything but except negative value to my life. It’s just every week when I leave the student house with a sore throat, tired, frustrated, fed up and not believing an hour can feel so long I can’t help but wonder.

To end on a positive note, while these kids are rough sauce in the structure of the classroom I have a lot of fun hanging out and just talking, or playing games or just being my ridiculous self. I often end up doing “the monkey dance” (as many of us PCVls like to call it, ie someone says dance, and we dance, someone says sing, so we sing etc etc). This place is where I experience some of my most affirming moments in my service. It’s a hard contrast to go from a heart opening, soul warming, and laughter filled afternoon to classroom filled with frustration, anger, and sadness.

So here’s this post, maybe I’ll start updating more often, maybe with just a little bit from my day. My observations etc. 

i found this in my classroom one day a while back, it says "i love you michelle"  so... maybe i'm not all bad ;)