January 30, 2009
Last weekend was really great. I spent the entire weekend "in", or on the big island - main Majuro. I slept on Maggie’s floor Friday night and Vicki’s bed on Saturday night. I know you probably don’t know these people, but the moral of the story is that I got off of Ejit and was able to socialize and hang out with some other really fabulous Ri-Belles (Americans). It was exciting – sort of like visiting New York City from Long Island; comparably as hard on the pocket, too. I know that analogy works with at least half of my readership. ;)
Our neighbors gave us a TON of freshly caught tuna and we made the mistake of cooking it all. Paul and I decided to give the obscene amount of leftover fried rice and fish to Anna. I volunteered to bring it in while Paul ran our Biweekly book club (Mons and Weds). Because I can sometimes wait up to two hours for a boat to bring me back to Ejit, I packed all of grade four and five’s journals and my grade book so that I could get some grading done while I waited for the return boat.
There I was, burdened with all of this week’s garbage, Anna’s dinner, and a backpack loaded with schoolbooks. And I caught an outgoing boat right when I got to the dock – I was thrilled and stepped gingerly in. Well, the boat was empty and high tide had the boat floating higher than the dock (so, there was nothing for it to brace against). Slowly the boat tipped, and slowly I began to fall over the edge. The fall was so long that I was able to drop the garbage and the dinner into the boat before turning completely heels-over-head over the edge of the outboard boat.
I acted quickly, however. I salvaged my cell and wallet before the water soaked through my backpack and tossed an on-looking kid the stack of journals to carry while I waltzed my soggy bottom home. After two days of hanging on the clothes line in my room, the grade book and journals are in working order, but just a bit more autistic looking with the washed out look – washable markers, you know. I later learned that I had a fabulous audience composed of all of the middle level students who had just returned on the empty boat. Fabulous…
This week, Paul and I began to teach “Science,” or reproductive health to sixth and seventh grade. I’ve never taught it before and I can safely tell you that is the most awkward material I will ever teach and I feel the most incompetent at teaching it, as well. Unfortunately, a lot of the kids here become sexually active around the age of 12 (or as soon as possible), and its REALLY necessary.
Speaking of sex education… one of my students told me that she had to leave school for a doctor’s appointment and preceded to show me the rash she was going for – it was a splotchy red rash running up her upper thigh. I was shocked she lifted her skirts for me and just waved her off. The next day, she was absent in my sixth grade and one of the girls told me she would explain in “science.” Well, it turns out that the girl’s mother discovered that the sixth grader had been with a boy and punished the girl with a boy-haircut – she chopped all of her daughter’s hair off. Note, the women here do not cut their hair; they don’t even trim it. This was a serious punishment and I don’t think the girl will be in school for a very long time. With my new teaching material, I wonder if syphilis has something to do with the new do. It’s a little disturbing that it all went down during ‘sex-ed week.’ Who knows if I could have prevented this had we covered the material a week earlier…
To be a little more positive, I think a lot of the girls feel comfortable around me and are beginning to confide in me, which is really an amazing feeling because it puts me in a much better position to help them protect themselves and make healthier decisions. One of the seventh graders has already begun to come over to the house in the evenings to have small private chats about the changes her body is going through and other “science” topics.
The Rikaki’s (the island’s resident priest) grandson had his kāmmem last night, which meant Paul and I were at high table from 7pm to 12:30am. I am exhausted and I think I will be full into next week.
Race day is this Sunday and I’m super excited to get back onto the Ursa Minor and escape from shore for a couple of hours. I will be grading and planning next week late into the night and for most of tomorrow in preparation!
That’s all the wonderful – and not so wonderful – dirt from my neck of the woods/ocean. I hope everyone is happy and well, and thanks for continuing to read!
Love from Ejit,
Kiersten
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Highlights and sharing of some emotional baggage... thanks for reading.
January 22, 2008
I take so long to blog... I'll do a highlight run through first and then finish with the heavier stuff. As always, thanks for reading, or just enjoy the photo albums to your right. ;)
I forgot to mention my first yacht race. I crewed on the Ursa Minor on January fourth. The race was really fun - the wind was high and some serious rain rolled in during the last leg, which I thought just added to the experience, but the skipper was a little disappointed (you have to use less sail and the deck is slick). We took fourth! Yay!
Last week, I was in the middle of teaching sixth grade when the room began to fill with smoke. I peeked outside the classroom and the school grounds looked as though a heavy fog had rolled into it - visibility wasn't more than 10 feet; everything was blanketed in smoke that tasted of burning plastics and God know what else.
Was the school on fire? Where was Iachiro? Should I send the students home?
I pulled my guam up to my mouth as a make-shift gas mask and told my students to do the same with their uniforms. We lined up and left the class in search of a smoke free zone where we could sit together and listen to me read The Mouse and the Motorcycle.
The best spot was right next to the source - a family had piled their week's worth of garbage just upwind of the school and lit it. There was only 30 minutes left in the school day.
Iachiro eventually noticed and canceled school. I didn't let me kids go much to many of my boys' chagrin. As soon as the students were released, many of the boys tied their uniforms up around their faces, grabbed up sticks for toy swords, and plummeted into the smoke to play ninjas, or bandits. I refused to let my boys go to play in the toxic smoke. They will take a while to get over it... This was a week ago, and my guam still smells.
I went swimming after the incident, to get the taste out of my mouth and the filth off of my body. When I saw a diaper bobbing along the bottom, it barely phased me - at least I wasn't breathing it it.
Kili left us this past Friday and Paul and I are enjoying the peace and quiet after hosting different off-island volunteers for over a month. There was a big party with the Co-op volunteers because Brett's younger brother was in town, but Paul and I were completely content staying home and sleeping. We're almost completely over the hosting stint. I hope I will get in to visit with the other volunteers this weekend, at least.
I did, however, go in and cook up a meal with two volunteers from last year - Vicki and Liz. We cooked pesto pasta and fried calamari (well... I did dishes), and we watched Maid of Honor (huge chick flick). I enjoyed the laid-back girl time.
I've realized that I haven't reflected on my students much. An incident, yesterday, made me come to realize this and also made me want to start hashing out some things that have really been dragging me down.
A LITTLE BIT OF STEPHNIE'S STORY
Yesterday, I had to kick my first student out of class the other day, but I felt terrible. I have a special needs student in my class, but she isn't severely disabled, which makes it even harder, in my opinion. She can do work and can sometimes behave, but she finds it hilarious to break rules and get me angry. Anyway, she was sooo much of a distraction for the rest of the class, yesterday, wouldn't obey me at all (I tried to have her sit outside until she was ready to come in and listen, but she refused - what could I do? Grab her?), so I told her to go home and sent her with a note for her mother, asking the mother to call me. I feel terrible. I would have sent any student home for the behavior, but she isn't just any student. But I am not qualified at all to address her needs and the needs of the other nine sixth graders. It was the first time I truly craved to be in the states, where Stephnie could be in my class with a one-on-one para...
ANDREW
I also have another student, Andrew, in grade four, who literally came to school only seven days last quarter. The attendance was sporadic, thus I'm sure Andrew really didn't learn a thing; often, he came in to fail a test. The seven days were also weighted toward the beginning of the quarter, so I began to assume the worst - he was seriously ill, or had dropped out in fourth grade. Andrew doesn't live on island, so it was nearly impossible to meet up with his parents. Also, his parents are from Kiribati, so they only some Marshallese and absolutely no English; a meeting would be awkward and mostly unsuccessful. Sometimes he said he was sleeping. Sometimes tide was bad. Sometimes there were other reasons...
The hardest part with Andrew's case is his socioeconomic situation. One of the days he was in school, he spent the entire class lying down across his bench, crying. It was hard; he's a big boy (has clearly been kept back one or two years) and I knew he was truly humiliated for crying in class. When the other students were finally settled into some individual work, I talked to him. His teeth were bothering him. When I inspected Andrew's mouth, I discovered that nearly all of his teeth were rotted to the gum line. I talked to him about brushing, but in the middle of the conversation, I realized that his family could afford toothbrushes and toothpaste, so I suggested chewing on a lot of pandanas (it's a flossy-like fruit that grows here), but couldn't do more than that. Instead, I sent him home because he was in too much pain to do work.
The following week, he came in for a day, but was in pain again. He was having trouble sitting still and would occasionally wince, do a sharp intake of breath, and grab his thigh. I made him go to the principal and had Iachiro look at Andrew's leg. Iachiro returned to report that Andrew had an extremely large boil on his leg and that he should go home. Andrew missed the next week and a half of school because, although his boil cleared, a series of other boils broke out afterward; his family cannot afford a doctor, or antibiotics necessary to quickly clear a boil breakout.
Why am I talking about Andrew? Well, he's returned, this week (second week of classes, third official week of term). And, he's brought his little sister to school. She has joined Andrew in fourth grade. Ebereta speaks no Marshallese; she only speaks English and Marshallese. Her English seems good and I think she will pull along in my class, but I can't imagine what her all-Marshallese classes are like, or how she will pull through. Since Andrew arrived with his sister, they've attended school 4 out of the 5 days this week; I am wondering if his little sister gets him to school when he might not have come, otherwise.
Ebereta has the sweetest face, and she really works hard. All of the fourth grade girls have taken her under their wing and adore her as a new pet, in an endearing way, of course. I can't help liking her, either. She has this little baby-doll face - a face of innocence. I find myself in dangerous waters. Where I couldn't really get to know Andrew and felt helplessness, I find myself seeking redemption in his sister. Maybe I can help her... Maybe she will come everyday and do well, and succeed in this school... it's dangerous, I know. There are only certain distances teachers can reach. Andrew's story has been a hard one to think and re-think; I'd almost given up until this week. But, while I want to help these kids, I also am afraid of discovering all of the ways I can't help...
I will get some more uplifting stories out, for sure. But, for my emotional benefit, I hit you with my hardest ones, first.
For now,
Love from Ejit,
Kiersten
I take so long to blog... I'll do a highlight run through first and then finish with the heavier stuff. As always, thanks for reading, or just enjoy the photo albums to your right. ;)
I forgot to mention my first yacht race. I crewed on the Ursa Minor on January fourth. The race was really fun - the wind was high and some serious rain rolled in during the last leg, which I thought just added to the experience, but the skipper was a little disappointed (you have to use less sail and the deck is slick). We took fourth! Yay!
Last week, I was in the middle of teaching sixth grade when the room began to fill with smoke. I peeked outside the classroom and the school grounds looked as though a heavy fog had rolled into it - visibility wasn't more than 10 feet; everything was blanketed in smoke that tasted of burning plastics and God know what else.
Was the school on fire? Where was Iachiro? Should I send the students home?
I pulled my guam up to my mouth as a make-shift gas mask and told my students to do the same with their uniforms. We lined up and left the class in search of a smoke free zone where we could sit together and listen to me read The Mouse and the Motorcycle.
The best spot was right next to the source - a family had piled their week's worth of garbage just upwind of the school and lit it. There was only 30 minutes left in the school day.
Iachiro eventually noticed and canceled school. I didn't let me kids go much to many of my boys' chagrin. As soon as the students were released, many of the boys tied their uniforms up around their faces, grabbed up sticks for toy swords, and plummeted into the smoke to play ninjas, or bandits. I refused to let my boys go to play in the toxic smoke. They will take a while to get over it... This was a week ago, and my guam still smells.
I went swimming after the incident, to get the taste out of my mouth and the filth off of my body. When I saw a diaper bobbing along the bottom, it barely phased me - at least I wasn't breathing it it.
Kili left us this past Friday and Paul and I are enjoying the peace and quiet after hosting different off-island volunteers for over a month. There was a big party with the Co-op volunteers because Brett's younger brother was in town, but Paul and I were completely content staying home and sleeping. We're almost completely over the hosting stint. I hope I will get in to visit with the other volunteers this weekend, at least.
I did, however, go in and cook up a meal with two volunteers from last year - Vicki and Liz. We cooked pesto pasta and fried calamari (well... I did dishes), and we watched Maid of Honor (huge chick flick). I enjoyed the laid-back girl time.
I've realized that I haven't reflected on my students much. An incident, yesterday, made me come to realize this and also made me want to start hashing out some things that have really been dragging me down.
A LITTLE BIT OF STEPHNIE'S STORY
Yesterday, I had to kick my first student out of class the other day, but I felt terrible. I have a special needs student in my class, but she isn't severely disabled, which makes it even harder, in my opinion. She can do work and can sometimes behave, but she finds it hilarious to break rules and get me angry. Anyway, she was sooo much of a distraction for the rest of the class, yesterday, wouldn't obey me at all (I tried to have her sit outside until she was ready to come in and listen, but she refused - what could I do? Grab her?), so I told her to go home and sent her with a note for her mother, asking the mother to call me. I feel terrible. I would have sent any student home for the behavior, but she isn't just any student. But I am not qualified at all to address her needs and the needs of the other nine sixth graders. It was the first time I truly craved to be in the states, where Stephnie could be in my class with a one-on-one para...
ANDREW
I also have another student, Andrew, in grade four, who literally came to school only seven days last quarter. The attendance was sporadic, thus I'm sure Andrew really didn't learn a thing; often, he came in to fail a test. The seven days were also weighted toward the beginning of the quarter, so I began to assume the worst - he was seriously ill, or had dropped out in fourth grade. Andrew doesn't live on island, so it was nearly impossible to meet up with his parents. Also, his parents are from Kiribati, so they only some Marshallese and absolutely no English; a meeting would be awkward and mostly unsuccessful. Sometimes he said he was sleeping. Sometimes tide was bad. Sometimes there were other reasons...
The hardest part with Andrew's case is his socioeconomic situation. One of the days he was in school, he spent the entire class lying down across his bench, crying. It was hard; he's a big boy (has clearly been kept back one or two years) and I knew he was truly humiliated for crying in class. When the other students were finally settled into some individual work, I talked to him. His teeth were bothering him. When I inspected Andrew's mouth, I discovered that nearly all of his teeth were rotted to the gum line. I talked to him about brushing, but in the middle of the conversation, I realized that his family could afford toothbrushes and toothpaste, so I suggested chewing on a lot of pandanas (it's a flossy-like fruit that grows here), but couldn't do more than that. Instead, I sent him home because he was in too much pain to do work.
The following week, he came in for a day, but was in pain again. He was having trouble sitting still and would occasionally wince, do a sharp intake of breath, and grab his thigh. I made him go to the principal and had Iachiro look at Andrew's leg. Iachiro returned to report that Andrew had an extremely large boil on his leg and that he should go home. Andrew missed the next week and a half of school because, although his boil cleared, a series of other boils broke out afterward; his family cannot afford a doctor, or antibiotics necessary to quickly clear a boil breakout.
Why am I talking about Andrew? Well, he's returned, this week (second week of classes, third official week of term). And, he's brought his little sister to school. She has joined Andrew in fourth grade. Ebereta speaks no Marshallese; she only speaks English and Marshallese. Her English seems good and I think she will pull along in my class, but I can't imagine what her all-Marshallese classes are like, or how she will pull through. Since Andrew arrived with his sister, they've attended school 4 out of the 5 days this week; I am wondering if his little sister gets him to school when he might not have come, otherwise.
Ebereta has the sweetest face, and she really works hard. All of the fourth grade girls have taken her under their wing and adore her as a new pet, in an endearing way, of course. I can't help liking her, either. She has this little baby-doll face - a face of innocence. I find myself in dangerous waters. Where I couldn't really get to know Andrew and felt helplessness, I find myself seeking redemption in his sister. Maybe I can help her... Maybe she will come everyday and do well, and succeed in this school... it's dangerous, I know. There are only certain distances teachers can reach. Andrew's story has been a hard one to think and re-think; I'd almost given up until this week. But, while I want to help these kids, I also am afraid of discovering all of the ways I can't help...
I will get some more uplifting stories out, for sure. But, for my emotional benefit, I hit you with my hardest ones, first.
For now,
Love from Ejit,
Kiersten
Sunday, January 11, 2009
A slow start to second quarter
January 12, 2009
So, we finally started school, today.
On Monday, January 5th, we went into school just for Iachiro to call in a shorter-than-half-day session. After Morning Prayer and Iachiro's morning announcements, we literally had school from 9am-10am. At 10am, Iachiro had all of the students and teachers pick up garbage around the school.
Following the cleanup, the teachers held a meeting to "discuss the schedule" where Iachiro decided we shouldn't have school on Tuesday, so we could clean the school more, and we should cancel school on Wednesday just in case we don't finish cleaning on Tuesday and need to finish on Wednesday. We finished on Tuesday, but Iachiro decided we should mop, too, bought a mop, and then played online in the office while four teachers spent an hour rotating the single mop.
On Thursday, the teachers did grades. On Friday, we had our PTA meeting and handed out report cards.
After the PTA meeting is when things became really interesting. We’ve been telling Iachiro since the beginning of the year that we were going to lose two teachers in January – two of our teachers are getting the BA in teaching at USP and were planning on going full-time after the new year since early August. Well, Iachiro refused to address the issue until he “received the memo from the Ministry of Education saying that they were indeed going full time.” He didn’t get the memo until January 5th… Our final solution is that grades two and three are now combined for Marshallese Language Arts, Social Studies, and Health, and grades six and seven are combined for Social Studies (22 students are packed into a room that was full with 13; we haven’t seen this yet because weather permitted Berman to teach them outside, today). All of third grade’s desks were moved into grade 2, and third grades sit on the floor during the periods where they are not combined with grade 2. This will be and interesting new development to watch unfold…
The canceled week became a blessing in disguise in a weird way (okay – always searching for the silver lining) because the planes are broken again, and the Kili volunteers have had to crash with us for the past two weeks - a boat heads out this Friday. Additionally, I was nailed with a pretty decent head cold and slept for over 30 hours, this past weekend. I am no longer incapacitated, but some pretty obnoxious symptoms still linger - hopefully fighting a losing battle with my immune system...
Best wishes in the New Year,
Kiersten
So, we finally started school, today.
On Monday, January 5th, we went into school just for Iachiro to call in a shorter-than-half-day session. After Morning Prayer and Iachiro's morning announcements, we literally had school from 9am-10am. At 10am, Iachiro had all of the students and teachers pick up garbage around the school.
Following the cleanup, the teachers held a meeting to "discuss the schedule" where Iachiro decided we shouldn't have school on Tuesday, so we could clean the school more, and we should cancel school on Wednesday just in case we don't finish cleaning on Tuesday and need to finish on Wednesday. We finished on Tuesday, but Iachiro decided we should mop, too, bought a mop, and then played online in the office while four teachers spent an hour rotating the single mop.
On Thursday, the teachers did grades. On Friday, we had our PTA meeting and handed out report cards.
After the PTA meeting is when things became really interesting. We’ve been telling Iachiro since the beginning of the year that we were going to lose two teachers in January – two of our teachers are getting the BA in teaching at USP and were planning on going full-time after the new year since early August. Well, Iachiro refused to address the issue until he “received the memo from the Ministry of Education saying that they were indeed going full time.” He didn’t get the memo until January 5th… Our final solution is that grades two and three are now combined for Marshallese Language Arts, Social Studies, and Health, and grades six and seven are combined for Social Studies (22 students are packed into a room that was full with 13; we haven’t seen this yet because weather permitted Berman to teach them outside, today). All of third grade’s desks were moved into grade 2, and third grades sit on the floor during the periods where they are not combined with grade 2. This will be and interesting new development to watch unfold…
The canceled week became a blessing in disguise in a weird way (okay – always searching for the silver lining) because the planes are broken again, and the Kili volunteers have had to crash with us for the past two weeks - a boat heads out this Friday. Additionally, I was nailed with a pretty decent head cold and slept for over 30 hours, this past weekend. I am no longer incapacitated, but some pretty obnoxious symptoms still linger - hopefully fighting a losing battle with my immune system...
Best wishes in the New Year,
Kiersten
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