9:30 am : I arrive, kiss all the other teachers, draw pictures of cartoons looking sad/tired/hot/happy, and make copies of fruit flash cards.
9:45 - 10:25 (CM2/ 5rh graders) : The kids are old enough to be self- conscious, which often makes teaching less fun; however, they have longer attention spans and are better at guessing what I'm trying to convey. Sometimes, when we're practicing saying "Hello," I shake their hands and they all giggle uncontrollably. When I'm really tired I start giggling too, and we all giggle together for a while. It's very counter the French ideal of scholastic discipline.
10:25 - 11:00 : The first recess of the day for the kids. Teachers drink coffee/tea and smoke. My director teases me for not liking coffee.
11:00 - 11:40 (CE2/ 3rd graders) : We begin by singing a song about the days of the week to the tune of the "Adam's Family" theme, proceed to take a survey about on what food students like. Most of the students get confused when I ask them to "glue their papers" because they think I'm saying blue. I make the kids write "I listen to my teacher" three times when they get too unruly. Then we translate it together, and it becomes a fun exercise.
11:40 - 2:00 : Lunch- Everyone gets 12 - 2 off to eat. The neglected kids with "bad parents" have to eat in the cafeteria rather than going home for a proper French meal. I eat with the other teachers for an hour, slowly understanding less and less. Occasionally, we talk about American movies, food, or the weather, in which case I keep up with the conversation. Otherwise, I smile a lot, and ask questions of whoevers sitting next to me. They are very sweet about looking out for me. On some lucky days we all drink delicious wine. Eventually, when I can no longer concentrate, I sneak off to read or work on lesson plans.
2:00 - 2:40 (CE1/ 2nd graders) : We sing, read "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" to review colors and learn days of the week, play flashcard games in which the kids always cheat. A little girl vomits on her desk and is too shy to interrupt me. It takes me several minutes to notice her neighbor has his hand up, because he
always has his hand up. Always. And most of the time he doesn't actually have anything to say.
2:40 - 3:20 ( a different group of CE2/ 3rd graders) : We sing, do the same class survey. I spend half the class telling them to "listen, please." The three worst students spend the whole class ignoring me, but drawing me pictures that usually include the phrase "Megane je t'aime." The boys decided the survey is a contest and begin to say that they like every type of food in order to have a higher number than the girls. Some bully others into saying "yes" for everything. Everyone stays in the class for two minutes at the beginning of recess as a punishment for not listening.
3:20 - 3:55 : Recess again. I drink tea and get bombarded by my favorite class of five year olds, who all want to kiss me and tell me about their dogs and cousins.
3:55 - 4:10 (CP/ 1st graders) : Lots and lots of singing. I feel so bad for the teachers who have to listen to my terrible voice all the time. I speak a little French and have to change activities constantly to keep them engaged. There are two little boys in the front who smile at me and talk to me the entire class, no matter what I'm doing. When I was showing them a map of America and telling them that I live in Virginia, one of them told me he lives in Kansas. I think he was serious. He said it with such a precious, spacey little smile that it made me want to visit that terrible state.
4:10 - 4:45 (different group of CE1/ 2nd graders) : We count backwards and forwards to ten, saying the words out loud and using our hands. When we get back to zero, everyone claps their hands above their heads and shouts "Blast off." I've never explained what it means, but they love it. More singing, games, and books.
5:00 - As I leave for the day the students are in the halls, pulling their coats and backpacks on. The five year olds again kiss me. The seven, eight, and nine year olds tell me "Hello" and immediately afterwards, "Goodbye," with big smiles and genuine eagerness to communicate. The oldest kids say "Goodbye" shyly, or else burst into laughter after they say it. Making it to the front office, I ask one of the administrators to unlock the door for me. He says "No, you must stay here." We both chuckle. It's hard to make jokes in a foreign language, but it's easy to make someone feel welcome.
