What's a typical day like in American Samoa? It's a question that I ask myself often. How is life on a teeny island in the middle of the Pacific ever normal? Somehow, though, I've fallen into a routine and I'm finally at home, here's what it looks like...
My typical weekday morning starts at 6. I wake up to my alarm clock, typically still exhausted because still, after finishing college, I don't know how to force myself to go to sleep at a reasonable hour. I'm usually drenched in sweat because my house is an oven, and I probably have at least 4 new bug bites starting to tickle. Before most other things, I check my phone for updates by going out to the front step (it's the only place to get wifi). The facebook notifications and snapchats give me a sense of home and morning texts from my mom make me smile and remember my cheer squad on the other side of the world. Next, I quickly decide on the skirt I'll wear and pack my clothes for after school. For breakfast, I eat a smoothie with papaya and bananas, or a spoonful of peanut butter and a cup of the dunkin donuts coffee my parents keep sending from home. Once my bags are packed, I step out the door, crossing my fingers that someone will ask me if I want a ride. Most times, I get lucky. Someone stops by the mart in front of my house and ask if I'd like to ride in the bed of their truck. They know I'm a world-teacher, and have been close with teachers from the past, and they want to help us out in any way they can. If I can't hitchhike, I'll wait for a bus...one of those crazy reggae buses with fuzzy boas lining the dashboard. This morning, I was on a bus at 7am, the bass was blaring so much my sunglasses were falling off and we were going almost 50 mph (the speed limit is only 25)...it was QUITE the way to start off a day. When I get to school, I sign in at the office, pick up the daily bulletin and get ready to start the day. Students come in as soon as they see my door open, most to leave their backpacks in a safe spot, or just to sit and escape the various 'turfs' around campus, as my room is a neutral zone. At 820, the bell rings and all the students start rushing in. They make their typical teenage jokes and I'm reminded of what I'm doing and who I'm working with. Sometimes, it's hard to feel like an adult with these kids - we listen to the same music, they talk about their girl/boy drama, they comment on each other's eyebrows, and they wear clothes under their uniforms that aren't so different than my own. I try to snap into teacher mode and keep stern, so when 830 rolls around, a student begins the day with a Samoan song and prayer. Announcements are made and we jump into a lesson. This week we talked about plate tectonics and boundaries connecting earth's puzzle pieces. They love the incorporation of music and sounds, and drawing and art. Before lunch my students complain about the heat and ask if I'm okay because I'm getting red and wonder if I'll make it to the bell. By lunch I'm usually pooped and sweating more than I can handle. That's when I think about the snow and cold I could be in if I was home (sigh). At lunch, I try to escape my room and students, but most of the time they catch me first, looking over my shoulder at my facebook or asking for bites of my papaya. This is when we bond though, so I'm only half frustrated (and half-delighted). The bell signalling the end of lunch rings 15 minutes early because a fight has broken out and that's the only way to control it. With this extra 15 minutes of class, I find myself flustered and making up for time. Usually we laugh about something or discuss why fighting won't get them anywhere (most of them hear nothing when I say this). Two more periods fly by and the day finally ends. After school, the kids disappear to McDonalds and Carls Jr. (probably for another fight) and the campus is eerily empty. I use this time to skype and facetime people back home (let me know if you want your slot!) or catch up on school work and grading. After asking my mom to show me the fridge and my closet and the stuff I left at home, I sneak out to catch a bus to the gym, which always takes longer than I expect. The bus ride is bumpin again and I show up just on time to the gym at 430 with a warm welcome from the owner of the gym, and my current girl crush, Paula. She pushes Johannah and I through the workout: adding in extra burpees, testing us for faster sprints, and occasionally interrupts to tell us about the cheese and wine she just bought, her upcoming vacation, or her annoyances with her husband. She also runs the rowing team and is training for an Australian race in Sydney. I plan to be her prodigy, but I haven't been able to convince her yet (it'll come with time). When I eventually catch the last bus of the night from the gym to Leone, it takes every detour possible. Luckily, I pass a beautiful ocean stretch just as the sun starts to set and get home as the brightness goes below the mountains. Finally, I'm home and I lay down on the couch already prepared for sleep. I make myself some coconut rice or avocado toast, eat some ice cream, and sit by my laptop to try to get through some school work. It's really hot, though, so most of the time I just go sit in my hammock on the porch and fall asleep to Harry Potter, or lie right in front of the fan in my room to try to cool off. Somehow the time between when dinner I and bed time passes in the blink of an eye and I get ready for bed and to do the same thing all over again. Though this is the normal outline of a day, each day has it's plot twists...maybe the person who picks me up in the morning is a friend of a friend who will now get me involved in something I've been really excited to try, or maybe my students decide that today they'll have a sketching competition with me as the judge. It's pretty crazy to think that this is what is 'normal' now, but this is, after all, why I chose this experience. Every day is different, but every day is awesome. There is no single word that describes what it’s like to be a high school teacher. If I were forced to choose just one, though - I would say interesting, because it’s a word that encompasses everything I’m not used to. I’m confused about how I feel being a teacher, because each day I am intimidated by the fact that I may not be doing a good job - that I may not be what my students need. Being a first year teacher has been more than challenging, and learning new material and figuring out how to present it to a class that has never seen science as the ‘fun’ subject is overwhelming. I see the students who are absorbing what I’m teaching them, and who are using my knowledge and the help I have to offer to heart, they are clear in my vision, but I also see the students who aren’t. Each class period, I can’t help but be disheartened by the students who are careless. I’m trying to understand what the reason for this attitude is, and for many it’s clear – it’s the language barrier or it’s the peer pressure of high school and being a tough guy. Even with this in mind, it’s still hard to accommodate to that, and it’s difficult to serve students with lessons how each of them need it, because they all use their brains in different ways. Some days I have insights into what I can change – like when I see the students who sleep through class finally engage when I work with them independently, and that feels good. On another note, teaching is interesting because of the random things that happen when I least expect them. Sometimes these are funny, sometimes they’re stressful, and sometimes they’re frustrating. The first thing that will come to mind when I think of funny stuff will be when I blew a snot rocket in class. I was laughing at a student who was attempting to teach the class and I just so happened to have a stuffy nose that day. With my laugh came out a ginormous blob of snot that flew into my hand. At least I was teaching about outer space that day, so it was fitting. Stressful situations occur often as well – especially when I’m asked what religion I am and am handed a book of Mormon in response, or made fun of for being the ‘palagi’ teacher and being talked about by my students in Samoan. And then there are the frustrations – issues with administration and DOE and their expectations, times when students come in to tell me they think that a scratch can cause breast cancer and wounds can be cured with cigarettes, and criticisms from other educators that are not constructive. Finally, teaching is interesting because it’s unexpectedly rewarding. Last week, as we were learning about oceans, where they came from, and earth’s start, some of my students brought up the issue of evolution, and asked me what I thought about it. While it’s a subject that I know I have to tread cautiously in, especially in such a religious community, it’s incredible to see students who are questioning things in life and making their own observations on things. Another student came up to me and asked me if Donald Trump’s new presidency would affect his chances of going to school in the states, or if it would affect how he would be treated if he did. As an adolescent, it’s easy to retain information and disregard having an opinion, because we’ve been told that ours is not important for so long, so when I see my students asking me things I didn’t ask them to think about, I want to jump for joy. It’s rewarding too, because my students can confide in me. There are many situations that some have come to me with situations that I don’t have a powerful response to, but listening and showing comfort has always seemed to help. I know that I can’t change the lives of all my students like I would want to, but I can already see some inspiration being passed on. Science is cool, so is being a good person, and I hope my students at least learn that. It’s mid-November and homesickness is starting to kick in. Being away from family and friends is difficult, but having a community of close friends helps immensely. But it’s the seasons and comfort of the holidays in New England that I miss the most. I miss the leaves changing colors, the crisp mornings that cause the first shivers of the year, even the changing of Starbucks cups to their controversial holiday design. I miss picking my favorite mutsu apple from its tree, and I’m already starting to miss Christmas lights covered in snow and aggressive Christmas advertisements at the mall. I’ll miss the political arguments that happen on Christmas, and Thanksgiving – Polish edition. I won’t be able to ice-skate in the public garden, or cry that my hands are freezing when I make snowballs. I won’t attempt to go snowboarding a few days before Christmas, or try to Instagram the perfect icy sunset. I really will miss seeing my breath, and slipping on black ice and bruising my tailbone. I appreciate the palm trees and the ocean and island life, but cold weather, know that I’ll miss you and all that’s come with you (even ice storms and power outages).
If anyone could send me some snow, that’d be much appreciated. |
AuthorThe only way to find yourself is to get lost (and eat a lot of ice cream). Archives
January 2017
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