"Assisting the Teacher?"

The only real fear I had about this adventure was that I might be expected to become the actual teacher. I voiced my concern to Fred the first day and he said not to worry, that I was there to observe and help. That is exactly what I did the first day, checking papers for the fourth grade teacher, Mohammad, walking around the room to see if the girls were doing what they were supposed to be doing and following  along as the day progessed. So much for teacher education in Ghana. Tuesday, Mohammad told me at 8:30 that he had to take someone to work, and not to forget to do math after the mid-morning break. Wait—what?! On my own, with 15 fourth grade girls, most around 12 years old, a classroom with more flies than pieces of paper, a sizzling 90 degrees inside by my estimation and five hours to kill. (Imagine being an entertainer with a five hour routine.) I pulled out every trick in the book from action songs, to math games, to a chapter from their English book. We had the old lady swallow a fly, met Simon who says, and talked about what is sold in markets. The hours dragged on and sweat began to run down my back. The two breaks seemed like minutes, but in the end, I did it, including a very stern lecture about being kind and respectful. To be fair, Mohammad did come back around 1:00. School is out at 1:30. He stepped in and taught a civics lesson on the responsibilities of the federal legislature, which he wrote on the board and had them copy in their little books. By comparison, I was concerned that they didn’t know all the colors, names of foods, the difference between fruits and vegetables, and that two of them just had no idea how to read at all.

    Today I came in more prepared, which was good because I didn’t lay eyes on Mohammad till about 12:30. Besides being the fourth grade teacher, he is also the head of the primary school so maybe he was taking care of business elsewhere. After my serious chat with the girls yesterday, things were much more cooperative and we got lots of things done. They aren’t used to forming an answer, an opinion, or a preference which is totally different from the current conversational, higher-order thinking work we do at Eldridge Park School, and he seemed amazed at my approach. He did ask me a lot of questions today, and I think his tone of voice has softened somewhat with the girls. And the students themselves are as happy, mischievous, and full of life as any kids I know. I’m beginning to feel at home here.