Sunday, October 6, 2013

Official Day 2 of Teaching in Lod


I completely left off from my previous post one of the highlights of my week thus far, my study session with Eli on Wednesday night!  We almost finished the first chapter of Mishlei, but then the Skype call dropped.  It's very hard, reading in Hebrew, but the repetitive structure of the verses makes it easier to infer the meanings of certain words.   It turns out that if you see the word ""סופה in Biblical Hebrew, it should be translated as "strong wind;" in modern Israeli Hebrew, "סופה" means "sofa" (a word with of Arabic origin).  So much for all of my Torah study being of any help in understanding this language.

The bus was absolutely jam-packed on Thursday morning, in a way that would be breaking several Federal transportation regulations if ever done in the United States (not that the Federal government is actually capable of enforcing anything right now -- how is it that I was outside of North America not just for this shutdown, but also for the Occupy Movement in 2011?).  Anyway, I attended the boys' minyan in the morning (I was late, but it didn't matter, because there was a minyan), and, afterwards, met up with Chani (the only other English teacher other than Moshe) and TZ.  Our first class of the day to teach was the 2nd-graders.  These kids were adorable, and so, so excited!  I really mean this; Chani has an entire song-and-dance to start the day, playing them a repetitious English-language CD meant to repeat in their ears such phrases as "good morning" and "big," "little," and "tiny."  This took up the first 10 or so minutes of class.  Personally, I think that it was excellent.  I still remember the songs in my first year of French class that allowed me to memorize how to conjugate aller (to go), avoir (to have), etc.  A certain quantity of memorization is necessary and unavoidable in the learning of a language, and better that the difficult, foundational aspects of a language be hammered in as early as possible.  A certain Cool Person, later that evening, told me that she, too remembers a lot of these French-language mnemonic tools, vindicating my position.  Anyway, TZ and I walked around the class, and tried to help the students learn the lesson of the day, the letter C, how to write it, etc.  Anglophones of course know that C is one of the most difficult letters in language, on account of it sometimes sounding like K, and sometimes like S.  There are not separate lowercase/capital letters in Hebrew, and this was a major part of the lesson.  There are very good, colorful books for these younger grades, which allowed them to see a few sample words beginning with each letter of the alphabet.  I think, however, that the publisher could have chosen better "C" words to choose than "clown" and "cactus."  Wouldn't "cup," "coat," and "can" all have been much better nouns?  Regardless, I noticed one little boy who didn't have his books, and who also, when it was time for students to take out their snacks for the day, didn't have any food (the others had sandwiches, fruit, etc.).  I wonder what sort of home he is in?  The students' families here are responsible for purchasing their books; the joint lack of books and lack of food worries me, but what could I do?  I had run out of the apartment without any peaches, because I had forgotten to throw them in my backpack before leaving to catch the bus.  I see this kids, and worry.

TZ and I also accompanied Chani when she taught 3rd graders in the morning.  The two of us were sent to help a couple of the more motivated students.  I helped two little girls practice their Roman alphabet penmanship.  I spoke to them almost entirely in Hebrew; what else am I supposed to do?  These students aren't the main subjects of my teaching, here, and I can't just expect them to understand all of the English that comes out of my mouth.  Rather, I chose to have them understand me.  These two were a lot of fun, loved what they were doing, cared a lot about doing it right, and found me very interesting.

The last class with which we helped Chani was the 5th-grade class.  There were some motivated students among these, and also some cutups.  There is no seeming pattern relating talent to interest in learning, from my initial observation -- some of the students with least knowledge of English are the most engaged, as are some with the most.  In this case, I had a group of three boys, while TZ had a group of three or four boys and girls.  Things got a little bit harder when a fourth boy entered the English room to join my group, and all three of my original students insisted that he stay.  This is something that I've noticed is the norm in the Rambam school -- curious students (almost always from the younger grades) leaving their classrooms to follow TZ and me around.  Anyway, I did my best to try to teach the days of the week, but after a few repetitions, the students had started running around too wildly, pushing each other over, hitting each other, walking over to students from TZ's group to talk to them, etc., that it became impossible to continue.  I'm honestly not certain whether I managed to teach these students anything (surprisingly, my 4th student was the best-behaved of the four, and was seriously annoyed with the others for being so disruptive).  Also, I needed to act as Hebrew-English go-between for TZ's students, trying to explain to them for instance, that there is no equivalent of the Hebrew preposition "את" in English.  TZ is currently a much better teacher than I am, even in spite of my slightly greater experience with Hebrew, and I realize that, after a few weeks of Ulpan, she's going to be even more effective.  We aren't competing, thank goodness, and I'm glad for her sake, and her students' sake, that she'll be even better, given a little bit of Hebrew practice.

At noon, Moshe arrived, and after a short break, we helped him teach the 8th graders, who, as always, are the hardest of any group.  Two of the students who are usually inseparable friends were having a fight today, and it made most of the class intolerable.  It also made me realize just how much of the negative side of American culture these students have managed to absorb.  There's a particularly pithy mishnah from Pirkei Avot which I think conveys the point rather succinctly:

ארבע מדות ביושבים לפני חכמים: ספוג, ומשפך, משמרת, ונפה.
ספוג, שהוא סופג את הכל. משפך, שמכניס בזו ומוציא בזו. משמרת, שמוציאה את היין וקולטת את השמרים. ונפה, שמוציאה את הקמח וקולטת את הסלת

Or, in English "There are four types among those who sit before the sages: the sponge, the funnel, the strainer and the sieve. The sponge absorbs all. The funnel takes in at one end and lets it out the other. The strainer rejects the wine and retains the sediment. The sieve rejects the coarse flour and retains the fine flour."

I think that the message is rather clear here: some students retain only the dirt.  It was for this reason that these two 8th-grade boys knew how to give each other the finger, knew how to call each other "big dicks," and, most painfully of all, said to each other's faces "F--k you, my ni---h."  I almost don't know how sad it makes me that all that we Americans have managed to do for these Israeli boys is to give them new ways to say cruel things to each other.  They have no idea how much pain and history is bound up in that 6-letter slang term that they throw at one another with such ferocity.  Needless to say, I could do absolutely nothing to help these students, and any credibility that I might have had with them previously, on account of being American, had vanished like ice in the Negev.  I do not blame these students as individuals; I don't think that they have two living parents between them, and I see them, rather, of victims of very cruel circumstance.  Still, they're going to grow up with that as the extent of their English, and won't be able to obtain any of the jobs that require working knowledge of English.  I did manage to work with one somewhat docile, struggling student, and made good progress helping him with his writing.  He inadvertently taught me never to write a lower-case "t" the way I am used to.  In Israel, their + signs and t's are formed slightly differently from similar signs throughout the rest of the world, in order to prevent them from resembling crosses.  When I wrote a lowercase "t" for my student as an example, he thought that I was drawing a Christian symbol in his notebook, in pen.  I did my best to explain that the letter has no Christian significance, and that, throughout the Anglophone word, this is the proper formation of the letter.  I hope that he believed me.  I might end up giving this student private English lessons, pending his aunt speaking with Moshe.  I'd be willing to -- if he wants to learn, why shouldn't I spend time helping him?  That's why I came all the way to Israel, isn't it?  To teach Israelis English?  Even as I helped him, though, I looked at his hands, and saw that they had several large warts on them.  Just what kind of nutrition is this 14-year old receiving at home?  What is his healthcare situation?  Healthcare isn't as drastically expensive as it is in the United States, but, still, I see this as just another sign of the poverty in the community in which I'm working.

After school was out (early), TZ, Moshe, Chani and I had a brief meeting, then TZ and I took the bus back to Ramla.  I scarfed down some food, ran off to the shuk to buy some dried dates (I was flat out), and then headed off to Galit and Micha'el's house to help their son Tamir with his English.  Unfortunately, I later saw that Galit had sent me an e-mail telling me to try next week instead, because Tamir was going to be tired from coming back from school late.  So, I showed up, and, from 5:00 until 6:00, sat with him, and spoke (mostly) in English to him.  I did my best to speak to him about things that might interest him -- i.e. basketball.  I didn't do a great job -- I give myself a C+ as a tutor, and just wish that I could think of something fun that we could do together, some game that would engage him, and give him practice speaking.  Afterwards, I returned to my apartment, inadvertently fell asleep for an hour (much to my embarrassment), took a run, and then picked up studying Zecharyah with Rachel Silverman where last we left our hero a couple of months ago.  We read all of Chapter 8 in Hebrew!  I'm really amazed, although I'll say that my modern Hebrew isn't really helping.  Rachel is a total champion, though, and I'm glad to hear that she and Jonathan Klus are trying to continue Shabbat Lunch-and-Learn, which Sarah Greenberg and I officially led last year, but which would have been very far from the success that it was without Rachel (as well as Rabbi Brian and Aileen).  Simultaneous to my meeting with Rachel (as well as my dinner) was a party at Samir's, which I missed.  Even though I would have been unable to pay the entrance fee (I'm really running short on cash) in the first place, I later learned that 1) not a lot of people in my program ended up attending, 2) there was a really disgusting leak of sewage water, and 3) the tobacco smoke was kind of overwhelming.  Although I'm sorry that I missed the opportunity to socialize with some of my friends, I don't feel particularly asocial for not having attended this event.

Friday was my housemate Noach's birthday.  It was also my day off, so I left in the morning to run some errands, so that I would be around to help him celebrate.  At the Haveradim house that afternoon, we got together almost all of the Oranim participants in Ramla, had cake, and just hung out.  I left in late afternoon so that I would have enough time to send off a few e-mails before Shabbat.  I walked to the Sepharadi synagogue on Rechov Bar-Ilan, Zer'a Yitzchak, and arrived in time for Shir Hashirim (מַה יָּפִית וּמַה נָּעַמְתְּ אַהֲבָה בַּתַּעֲנוּגִים זֹאת קוֹמָתֵךְ דָּמְתָה לְתָמָר).  Afterwards, I walked to the house on Haveradim, and spent a very long time speaking with Devin, with whom I realize I share a lot in common (except maybe maturity and experience).

Saturday was incredibly uneventful; I went back to sleep at noon, read a little bit, visited Haveradim only to find that Harry was the only person home, and made Havdallah shortly after 7:00 pm (Shabbat officially ended at 6:57 pm -- so early!).  However, I had a really excellent workout in the park afterwards.  I didn't get to bed nearly early enough that night; unfortunate, because I needed to be up at 6:00 am the next day, all ready for Oranim's visit to the Dead Sea!

Love to you all from Israel!

~JD

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