Starting a Blog: Day 4

A Post with No Name

Ah, Christmas break... a magical time that all teachers young and old look forward to after the first few months of school. If you have been looking forward to a new blog post, I am so sorry that it's taken me a while to write (I have been in my end-of-trimester/vacation coma)... and if you haven't been looking forward to a new one, screw you! (Just kidding, hopefully I'll be able to change your mind about how hilarious and sentimental I am with this story).

One Morning Meeting a couple of months ago, we announced to the class that we would be starting our long-awaited International Postcard Project. We explained how we would be collecting postcards from all over the world, and that we would be putting them up on our biggest bulletin board, on our biggest map of the world for everyone to see. The friends erupted in excitement and buzzed with uncontrollable conversation, "I'm going to get postcards from my uncle in Egypt!" I heard a little boy say. "My grandma lives in London, she'll send me a million post cards" a little girl said. "My dad travels around the world for his job, I'm going to get postcards from every continent!". So many friends were chatting away with their shoulder partners, oblivious to the one little boy on the back of the rug who was raising his hand, waiting to be called on...

"Yes Mitchell?" 

"Well, I wanted to tell you that I have family in Canada and Mexico so I'll probably be getting postcards from there." 

"That sounds wonderful, thanks for sharing that, and thank you for raising your hand so nicely."

"I also wanted to say that I can speak Canadian and Mexican really well, so you don't have to worry about translating." 

What could we say? My co-teacher and I glanced at each other from across the world rug in our teacher chairs wanting to laugh so badly, but we didn't want to crush his little spirit. He was so eager to share that information with us, that correcting his lovable little mistake would have been pointless. We simply bit our lips, and thanked him for offering, and moved onto reading the Morning Message together. 

This story reminds me to always look at the bigger picture, and to constantly find the real root of what I am trying to teach. We could have chosen to teach Mitchell that Canadian and Mexican aren't real languages, but instead, we chose to teach him to enjoy his moment in the sun.   

Boom. Hilarious and simultaneously sentimental. Right? 

...right? 

Starting a Blog: Day 3

Feeling Young While Getting Old(er)

My students have no idea how old I am. I could be eighteen or 45. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked the following questions by students from so many different schools, different cities, different states, different countries...

"Ms. K, how old are you?" or worse, "Ms K, are you married?" or worse, "Ms K, do you have a boyfriend?" or WORSE, "why not?". I always reply with a silly answer like, I'm two hundred and five years old, or something very teacher-y and firm,  such as, "excuse me, that is private information".

But one day, one of my students asked me how old I was, and I  knew if I told him that I was two centuries old that he would only keep asking incessantly, so I just 'fessed up and revealed my real age to him...24. I thought he wouldn't have any particular reaction, as 24 is a pretty common age to begin teaching, and I thought my little student knew this too, but, oh,  how I was mistaken. 

"Twenty four?!" he shouts...and we're in the library where no one else is talking, "Twenty four?! Ms. K...you're supposed to be like...thirty!". "I am?" I asked him, very curious as to why. And he replies with complete sincerity which is rare for this little friend, "yeah you're supposed to be like...thirty...and married".

I'm not sure if he meant that I look like I should be thirty and married, or if he thinks that all teachers are thirty and married...either way, just a few weeks later, a nine year old little boy  I tutor ensured me that I am DEFINITELY still young...and also entirely too immature to be an elementary school teacher.

We were reading a short story about a farmer's wife, tending to her home. Sitting at the kitchen table, I listened intently as "Joe" read the story out loud to me. I was paying particular attention to his use of inflection, as we were working on reading with expression that day. And he said in his sweetest little voice, as this was a sweet little story..."and she sewed his buttons to his buttholes...I MEAN BUTTONHOLES!". Joey looked at me horrified, thinking I would be so disappointed in him for saying something so incredibly inappropriate in front of his teacher, but instead found me laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face...so much so that my mascara was running. I couldn't get a grip. We laughed together for five minutes straight, while in the back of my head I'm thinking frantically "Shit shit shit! Stop laughing his parents are going to come in and ask what's going on!!!". The worst part was that his blunder happened in the beginning of the story, which meant that he had to read the rest of the ten page story with a straight face (myself included). We made it to the end, but as I was thanking his father when he handed me the check (like an adult professional, eh hemmm), little Joey said, "Dad, you're never gonna guess what happened with Ms. K. today, it was the funniest joke ever...". I don't think I have ever darted out a front door so fast. Since then, I have been dreading seeing his father again...I really should probably just quit.

So, in conclusion, I am basically living a false life...It's all so clear to me now! Deep down I really am a nine year old little boy, posing as a 24 year old female teacher, who is really just supposed to be 30 and married.

Starting a Blog: Day Two

Let's Learn About Polygamy! 

So, originally I was going to have this first "official" post be about the backstory of the blog title,"Why is Your Jacket Made of Pants?". But, I changed my mind, and thought it would be better to keep you all in suspense in a How I Met Your Mother fashion, and not reveal the funny and endearing story until my 100th post. 

Instead, I decided on writing about this little gem: 

Last summer, I volunteered as an ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher in Armenia, a tiny landlocked beautiful country in the Caucuses. If you didn't know, but I'm sure you do, because the only people reading this blog so far are my friends and family, I am Armenian, and I obnoxiously talk about it all the time. But don't worry, this post isn't about that, it's about...let's call him George. (I think this is where I should state that I'm never going to post any of my student's real names in these stories- I don't think their parents would like that very much...and I would rather not be fired!) 

So in Armenia, I taught at a school for the arts in a city called Gyumri in the North Western region of the country. The school didn't have very much money or access to many teaching materials, so I had to get creative with my lessons. We started off with the fundamentals such as the alphabet, shapes, foods, etc., and eventually we worked our way up to more advanced things like basic conversational skills, counting by tens, and counting by hundreds... 

One day I asked the kids if anyone wanted to try counting by hundreds. A few kids raised their hands, but the one that surprised me was George. He was such a shy little boy, and just wasn't confident in his English speaking skills. So, naturally I called on him. He stood up from his seat, puffed up his chest, and said loudly for all to hear in his best American accent, "one husband, two husband, three husband!" The kids burst out with laughter and poor George was red in the face, but started laughing right along with them when he realized his silly mistake and immediately corrected himself. 

Once I got the laughter to die down, (which was difficult because I was trying hard not to laugh myself), I explained that not only was I proud of George for being brave and trying his best, I was also proud of them for recognizing the word 'husband' when it was out of context, and we had only learned it the week before! 

My time in Armenia was so special, and there are so many memories to keep my heart close to it, but the ones I cherish the most are the ones that made (and still make) me laugh. 

Thanks for reading!

                                  

                                                                       

Starting a Blog: Day One

Uptown Hoboken

How Does This Work? 

I'm immediately feeling regret! I've deleted my first sentence a million times, and it took me five thousand google searches to come up with a sort-of-okay image for my first post. Are people going to like this thing? Am I going to like this thing? What is this? What am I doing?

For now, my plan is to just keep typing, and hopefully something good/funny/awesome will happen (fingers crossed).


Above is a cute little image (the one that took forever to find) of the city I live in, Hoboken, New Jersey. Aside from being a voracious google image searcher, I am also an elementary school teacher. Now that I think about it, my google image searching plays a great role in my job. Finding just the right diagram of the food chain can really make or break a lesson...even if it did take me over 45 minutes to find the right one. Shhh...don't judge me.


I'd like to think that I'm a pretty good story teller. My parents would probably like to think, that I like to think, that I'm a pretty good story teller...as they paid for me to major in English and minor in Creative Writing...and I never did anything with it...until hopefully now?

It just so happened that at my college Education was not considered a "real major", so I had to tack on an extra one, just to be sure that I was getting my money's worth. I went with English because at the time I had an obsession with poetry. The funny part is, is that by the time I reached the point when I had to start taking my poetry classes, I had already fallen in love with my Education classes...and didn't give a crap about writing anymore. Sorry Mom and Dad, a teacher I shall forever be!

So as an homage to my hard-earned BA, I've decided to start this blog. It's going to be an amalgamation of both English and Education, actually. So, if you love hilarious stories about little kids saying ridiculous things, keep reading!


Okay...I'm clicking the "publish" button now...it's been staring at me this whole time.