The Dreams of Teachers

I had the wonderful opportunity to sit in on parent-teacher interviews last week with a Grade 7 and 8 teacher. Although I am sure I can look forward to many interviews in my teaching career where parents are angry, apathetic, or simply absent, it was pretty spectacular to start off my experience of the parent-teacher meeting by encountering so many moms and dads who are genuinely concerned and interested in the success of their children. I listened to parents who tutored their sons and daughters, parents who advocated for their children, and parents who took the blame for putting too much pressure on their kids to get high grades. I suppose I should admit that many of these parents are in high-profile positions and recognize the effort it takes to be academically and professionally successful; moreover, there were “power-parents” who did not show up for an interview, but from purely my own experience of the day: Bravo Parents! Even where the student needed to translate for his mother or father, it was a phenomenal opportunity for the teacher, parent, and student to get back on the same page and ensure that the student was playing at the top of her or his game.

When sitting down the other morning to my last prep period of the day, I came to a point where there was no other work for me to do. I essentially have all my lessons planned and prepared until we go to visit Crusader castles! This was an alien experience for me since I sometimes found myself scrambling to be prepared for lessons during my practica in October, December, and February. At this school in Aleppo, I, like all teachers here, have between two and four hours of prep time every day. From one perspective, it is wonderful to have all this time because it enables me to take advantage of my evenings in Aleppo. The flip side of this coin is that I am often teaching for only half of the school day; consequently, I find it difficult to keep my “teaching groove” from class to class and day to day. The time that I spend with students is always the most brilliant part of my teaching day and helps motivate me to come up with compelling ways to teach the next day’s lesson. When I only see the kids for two or three periods during the day, it is hard to keep up a full head of steam!

Chasing the Language

My first evening in Syria, I was taken grocery shopping by Lianne, the generous, knowledgeable host with whom I am living for the next month. I was not expecting to do any of the talking on this little adventure, but I when I was addressed by one of the grocers we encountered, I discovered that I had no way to respond. I did not even have the vocabulary to say no. What a bizarre experience to be unable to communicate in any way!

In the weeks and days leading up to my trip, I had considered trying to listen to some learn-to-speak-Arabic podcasts but simply could not find the time. When I was getting my passport stamped by Syrian immigration officials, four of the eight individuals with whom I spoke knew enough English to guide me through the process, but my experience in the grocery store indicated that I would not be so lucky all the time. While few of the foreign teachers at the school can speak fluent Arabic, it seems that almost all know enough key words to get around on a taxi, but groceries, and find their way through an evening out on the town. I spent a little time expanding my own vocabulary beyond Marhaba! (Hi!) While I have yet to test out my newly-learned words, I feel relatively comfortable saying la (no), na'am (yes) – at this point I am pulling out my little cheat sheet to see what other words I "know" – ana bah-ki inglizi (I speak English), ma bif-ham (I don't understand), and addaish (how much?). I am also pretty confident that I can identify the Arabic characters for zero though nine. I guess we will see how that goes when I next go shopping.

It seems that Syrians are very appreciative and patient with foreigners that are trying to speak their language. Are we so tolerant of non-English speakers in Canada? Store owners and security guards have bid me farewell in my own language, but I doubt that many cashiers even in Ottawa would make the effort to say au revoir to a francophone leaving their store.

Imagine how difficult normal activities at work, at school, and on the street would be if you were carrying them out in a language for which you knew only a few words. If a person was visibly annoyed or upset with you because of your inability to communicate articulately, how would you feel about improving your language skills after that conversation? What if that person patiently supported you as you struggled through the five words you knew and gave you a friendly salutation as you left?

I doubt that I will learn much more Arabic than what I need to get me through the next few weeks, but I feel very lucky that I am compelled to speak Arabic to carry out regular activities like buying groceries, ordering a falafel, or bargaining in the market. (Okay, well that last one isn't so regular) I hope this experience continues to increase the empathy that I will have for non-English speakers when I return to Canada.

Highlights from the Air

On my flight from Ottawa to London, I found myself sitting beside a woman who works for CIDA. I imagine that she was pretty high up on the ladder as she was traveling to the United Kingdom to represent the agency at a conference on implementing different development strategies. Initially I felt lucky to have found such an interesting neighbour for my flight, but I soon discovered that I was not going to learn much about projects to help the developing world. Sometimes the woman would give a longer answer to a question and other times her response would be curt. Her response might end a conversation, but out of nowhere she would ask another question three hours into our flight. Throughout this bizarre exchange, I often felt like my neighbour was only half-listening to me and cared little for her own work. It was a good reminder to take interest in the stories of students. (Yes – even though I am writing about my little trip to Syria , I will still be getting all reflective on you and relating my experiences to teaching!) I am also pretty satisfied to think that teaching is something that I'm willing to discuss ad nauseum

because I think it is so sweet!

Other events that deserve an honourable mention: the six eighteen-year old boys singing along to the Venga Boys while we were flying to London; discovering that the London skyline has not changed since Mary Poppins sang Chim-Chimmery; experiencing London at its soggiest, rainiest, chilliest, and greyest; and fighting off jetlag while flying across Europe by sitting with a very talkative and genuinely helpful Syrian.

Finally, I am especially thankful for the opportunity to meet with my friend Jenna, who was such a blessing in the end of a wet and tiring day in jolly ol’ England. My welcome to Syria has been very warm, but there are few things more wonderful than seeing a familiar face when you are facing the unknown!

To Syria

In September, it was a possibility: “Yeah, Syria is one of the places I’m thinking about.”
When December arrived, it was a choice: “I’m hoping everything works to go to Syria.”
By January, the wheels were in motion: “So I’ve got my ticket to go to Syria!”
In February, I was assured: “I think you will be pleasantly surprised about traveling to Syria.”
This past weekend, I began saying adieu: “Check out my blogs while I’m in Syria!”

Being a somewhat less eloquent writer than some others, I find myself at a loss for the words to appropriately describe my intentions at the outset of my visit to Syria. The official reason for this trip is to gain experience teaching and learning in an international context. I have the incredible opportunity to introduce students the history of the Crusades and accompany these young individuals on trips to a number of the castles that were built during this period of history. As a historian, the prospect of traveling through one of the cradles of civilization where innumerable historic figures lived, fought, and traveled even now leaves me awe-struck. While I hope that friends will never peg me as merely the guy who will always be happy as long as you find him a museum, historical site, or dusty manuscript, I simply cannot wait to find myself surrounded by the walls of castles that once sheltered Salah al-Din and his armies or crusading knights from Europe.

To understand my most deep and fundamental desire to visit Syria though, my reader needs only to recall recent history, hysteria, and horrors. Despite its rich past, its cultural diversity, and its devotion to religious values, the Middle East has been characterized in black-and-white images as a haven for terror, a region of instability and intolerance, and a breeding ground for religious fundamentalism. This is simply an unfair characterization of a region inhabited by hundreds of millions of people. If it is the historian’s job to present and analyze information in a fair and balanced way, then this historian is seeking to address the imbalance in the story of the Middle East that is being told and retold in the media and in households today. If educators are responsible for preparing students to live well and make thoughtful and intentional decisions, then this educator believes that students need to hear an alternative narrative to the prejudiced, conflict-driven message that is currently being circulated. If there is ever to be lasting peace on this little planet of ours, that peace is going to come from understanding.

To this end, as I write over the next month and when I return to Canada after my trip, I hope to be an ambassador for Syria. I do want to describe the amazing experiences that I am having and reassure worried family and friends that I am indeed safe and sound, but it is my deepest desire to convince my readers and listeners that we need to consider these people – Syrians, Arabs, Muslims, people from the Middle East – as individuals who are our friends and neighbours rather than a faceless mass to be feared and contained.

I am not the greatest storyteller –I can never think of the appropriate story at the party unless it occurred in the last two months and often need to be reminded of events that happened only a few years before; consequently, my blog posts and the photos I take will help me to recall teachable moments and surreal experiences in the unlikely event that this trip does not leave a profound impression upon me. At the same time, I will likely comment on matters historical here and educational in Humility in Education, and some posts (like the one that you are now reading) will appear in both blogs, so please look forward to posts that are academic but hopefully not too irregular or uninteresting! When you read though, it is my desperate hope that you will also consider the serious purpose of my visit.

Syria-usly? Yep. Seriously.

Finally, I hope that you will share in my travels by commenting on my posts. Well-wishes and wish lists, comments and concerns, stories and suggestions are enriching for everybody who will continue read on.

“What’s new with me? Well, I’m going to Syria.” What an adventure!

The Queen’s University Teachers’ Overseas Recruiting Fair

This time last week I was walking into my final interview of the day at the Teachers’ Overseas Recruiting Fair at Queen’s University. It had been an exhausting day: I had already prepared for and attended four other interviews, considered a job offer, attended presentations, and imagined myself working on three different continents. Over the course of the day I experienced moments of joy, anxiety, success, nervousness, confusion, compassion, relief, sadness, and clarity. I consider the day and the weekend a success in spite of these mixed feelings and the fact that I did not sign a contract before driving back home at the fair’s end. I had gotten what I wanted out of the fair: the opportunity to practice being in an interview, to gauge my marketability as a teacher, and to simply experience TORF and what went on there.

I fully plan on returning to the fair in a few years, and I expect that I will find a school that is the right fit for me. I would strongly encourage anybody interested in working abroad as an educator to attend this fair, as it is very well-organized and run by the Placement Office at Queen’s University’s Faculty of Education.

I felt I was just about as prepared as I could be for this fair, but there are definitely a few points that I would tell anybody planning on attending TORF, and so following is a list of things to remember before heading to the recruitment fair.

There are a lot of jobs available for a limited number of educators.
Being invited to an interview is exciting; being invited to a lot of interviews is overwhelming.
Remember not to feel pressured into taking a particular position.
Be aware of your gut feelings.
Come with a friend that you can check in with throughout the day.
Bring a laptop so that you can do some quick research about a school right before the interview.
Make time to attend information presentations put on by the schools since these sessions might paint a better picture of the school than the interviewer can during the interview itself.
Interviewers will start making their offers on the Saturday afternoon.
Ask about volunteer opportunities available near the school for which you are interviewing.
Know why you want to teach internationally, in the country where the school is located, at the school for which you are being interviewed, and the grade and subject for which you are being interviewed.
Listen to the advice of the interviewers.

Good Luck!