December 21, 2024

In applying for the Peace Corps, I was following in the footsteps of my good friends Mike and Lynn as well as my daughter Gina.  Mike and I worked closely together at 3M and we became good friends.  On weekends he drew me into successively longer bike rides through the western Wisconsin countryside, getting me to stretch well beyond my regular 10-mile bike commute: first 25 miles, then 35, then 50, until he got me to sign up for my first century ride (100 miles).  Mike has a real talent for inspiring people to stretch themselves and have confidence in their ability to overcome challenges.  He had to draw on every bit of that skill to get me to finish that first century ride.

Mike announced his retirement when he and Lynn received their official invitations from Peace Corps to go to Bulgaria in 2009.  Keen to see my friends and curious about their experiences as Peace Corps volunteers, I visited them for a week in the Spring of 2011(?).  It was a wonderful experience to visit with them and immerse myself temporarily in their new world: meeting their Bulgarian colleagues; learning about the work they were doing; and getting a sense of what it was like to live in Bulgaria as a PC volunteer.  Likewise, I enjoyed visiting with Gina in Kyrgyzstan in 2019 for the same reasons.  As I go through my own PC experience, my admiration and pride in my daughter’s accomplishments continues to grow.

By the time I decided to apply for a Peace Corps position, I think I was probably as informed as I could be about the challenges that volunteers face: not just learning a new language and culture but immersing myself in that language and culture 24/7; adopting a much more modest standard of living and learning to do without familiar foods; being away from friends and family for a long time; and being not just the only American, but the only westerner in my community (i.e., being alone in a crowd).  It was on that basis that I decided to apply for a position as a Math and Science teacher – figuring that a lifetime immersed in math and science would be the foundation of my comfort zone, something that I could rely on even when nothing else makes sense.  I’ve since come to appreciate the large gap between the skills of understanding and applying math and science and those of trying to teach math and science to JHS students, most of whom have only passing interest in those topics.

Starting in October of 2023, I struggled for two school terms with the challenge of trying to teach my students.  During the break between the second and third terms, I attended a Peace Corps workshop for teachers.  During the workshop I was shocked to learn that beyond just (just?!) teaching, I had to be prepared to address my students’ physical and emotional needs as well.  I should be aware if they’re hungry because there’s no food at home and no money to buy it from the canteen at school.  I should be aware if a student is acting out because they’re being sexually harassed.  In short, I should really know my students and they should feel sufficiently comfortable that they can confide in me.  As it was, I only knew the names of about half of my students at the time, and as I’ve explained previously, my language skills are woefully inadequate to have a useful discussion about their needs, much less any harassment they may be suffering.  For now, when I think that a student might have an issue that is beyond my limited abilities to address, I rely on my teaching counterpart, who knows the students, their families, and their living situations.

After the workshop, when the third term began, I tried my best to be more attentive to the small crises, such as “Teacher, Ebenezer took my pen!”  Or, “Teacher, Priscilla insulted me!”  Apparently, teachers have to referee such conflicts because otherwise they can escalate into physical battles.  I’m slowly learning how to handle those complaints.  But at the end of July I briefly became concerned that there might be a situation that was beyond my capacity to help.  I was marking the end-of-term exams for my computing class.  A student had replied to a question with a three-part answer that was completely out of context: The first line said, “The world is ambiguos.”  Hmm, I didn’t think this student could understand the word ambiguous. Although misspelled, the meaning was clear.  And I don’t doubt that 7^th grade students can have such philosophical thoughts. The second line of her response was more disconcerting: “The world is meaningless.”  Wow, that’s some serious teenage angst.  What emotion is she conveying?  Hopelessness?  Despair? Was the exam so stressful that she was losing hope?  This sounds like it could be serious.  But it was the third line that really threw me for a loop: “The world is misspelled or not found.”  I burst out laughing.

“And now for the rest of the story,” as Paul Harvey, one of my mom’s favorite radio commentators, would say.  The end-of-term exams are purchased from a company that uses a standard format, consisting of an “essay” portion and an “objective” portion.  The essay questions are the first part of the test and require that students write words or sentences to answer the questions.  The objective test is better known to Americans as a multiple choice test.  The essay portion of the test is worth more points, but it is more difficult; either you know the answer to a question or you don’t. On the objective test, the students who have the best command of the English language can make an educated guess based on the choices presented.  The time allotted for the essay portion is 60 minutes, but I imagine that even the most academically inclined students have exhausted their store of knowledge after about 20 minutes, which leaves a lot of time before they can begin the objective test.  Although they’re not supposed to, most students will turn to the objective test and begin thinking about those questions.  If they come across something that they think might help them on the essay test, they’ll turn back to the essay section and do their best to fit the newfound information into an essay answer.  This student found a question in the objective section regarding Microsoft Word that appeared (to her) to have some useful information, so she borrowed those responses.

I believe her substitution of “world” for “word” was entirely accidental, probably in haste. Although I didn’t give her any points for her answer, I did appreciate the way that she transmuted the inner workings of Microsoft Word into lamentations on the world.

I breathed a sigh of relief; I had dodged a bullet this time.  Meanwhile, I’ve started calling roll at the beginning of every class so the names become familiar to me more quickly, and I continue to practice matching faces with those names. I’m getting to know my students a little better with each passing week. Math and science (and computing) remain the touchstones of my comfort zone because I share those topics with at least a few of my fellow teachers (and probably the same number of students) – they are topics about which we have a common understanding (mostly) and that we can discuss with little difficulty. It’s unlikely that I’ll gain the conversational skills and vocabulary needed to hold meaningful conversations with my students; I just hope that they understand that they can confide in me if they choose to.