Any help?

Well I know it's been quite some time since I've blogged but it's been an overwhelming few months in the classroom.

There's a boy in my class who I'm pretty sure has undiagnosed special needs. He's already been in school for two years before this and now we're in the third term and he can't read, write, do sums with numbers higher than 5, or count higher than 15. He struggles to even complete handwriting worksheets now. He can only baby talk, and his Arabic is the same. He's not progressing in the same way or even the same direction as the other kids and even though I know I haven't studied child development in depth, I can tell there's something going on. He just doesn't have the capability that the other kids have for the work load, but the curriculum isn't designed for special needs kids. Special needs don't exist here. And now because he isn't able to do the same work at the same level as the other kids (which is basically what the curriculum requires and his parents want), his behavior is out of control.

On a good day, he just lays on the floor under the desk. Usually backwards over the seat of the chair, but sometimes on the floor under two desks. He meows, makes siren noises, shouts "one hundred!" over and over again for the whole day. And even though I don't want to put him out of the classroom, he's not learning, he's preventing the other kids from hearing, and he's making me want to tear out my hair.

On a bad day, he runs around the classroom holding pencils, waving his lunchbox, pushing kids in the bathroom, hitting one of the eight-month-pregnant assistant teachers in her stomach, trying to escape the school grounds, smacking kids in the face with rulers, and kicking and biting me.

His parents keep saying, "We don't like to yell at him." It's not yelling he needs, it's help. Help that I can't give him. I don't even know where to start, because I don't know the underlying issue. And trying to figure out what that could be has been like trying to use webMD to discover the cause of a mysterious elbow pain. You come away thinking you have either an invisible bruise or joint cancer.
I've had everyone from other teachers, administrators, friends tell me to just ignore him. To put him out of the classroom. Now of course when he's violent, this is what happens. But since this is everyone else's attitude, I feel like who is going to help him if I don't.

Here's a kid who needs to be in the wading pool and this class has pushed him into the deep end without so much as floaties. I know I have a responsibility to the other 28 kids in the pool too, but that doesn't mean I want to watch him drown either.

His behavior has been in a downward spiral since Christmas, which is where my head's been at since. I've tried rewards, praise, stickers, being more forceful, modifying assignments by making them shorter, asking him to only answer 2 or 3 questions instead of 10, to only finish one page, anything I could think of I've tried. He's upset and frustrated too. I'm running out of ideas and not much is working. The only thing I've come across is that he likes Science class because it's hands on, so I bribe him with an extra science when the rest of the kids are doing writing or reading comprehension activities in the afternoons.

Any help?

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas (and National Day)

For those of you who didn't know I'm going to Ireland for Christmas- in 3 days! To be honest, I can't wait to get out of Doha for a little while. I like it here but I'm in a festive mood and Doha's Christmas celebrations leave much to be desired. Even my students asked me last week, "Miss, we will decorate for Christmas in the class??" Sadly, no small ones. Papa Noel is not allowed, even though 75 % of them have told me about their Christmas parties/invited me to them/want to decorate. I think we'll make some Frosty's next week- he's nice and non religious. I am a little nervous for the whole meet-the-extended-Irish-family-including-thirty four aunts and uncles-a hundred and forty-seven cousins-grandparents-whole village-Christmas celebrations but I'm sure I'll survive without too many psychic scars.

One thing Doha does do festively though is National Day. If you recall my post from last year, you will remember that glitter, cars with children protruding from rooftops, enormous national flags, and impromptu street dancing are all involved. National Day is today- and last night Blaine and I walked along the Corniche Road and fortunately saw all of these things again. I have lots of pictures -Here's a few and I'll put the rest on Facebook if you're interested. It's such a strange display- it's a lot like the Fourth of July (my favorite holiday) except on speed because everyone is loaded and gas only costs a nickel anyway.




Reason number 527 I need a vacation:
"Misssssss!Iloveyoutoomuch!CanIgotothetoilet?!YouknowmyfatherisinAffffffffrica?!"
"Omar! Do you know why you're on the sad face list?"
"For talking, Miss!"
"That's right, Omar. So what do you think you should do?"
"Stop talking, Miss!"
"That's right, Omar."
"Okay. Okay, Miss."
[Twenty five seconds later]
"Missssssssssss! I love you toooo much! CanIgotothetoilet?IcanNOTwait!"

Every. Day.

Someone please give me a sentence...

I know I've been missing from blogland for a few weeks, and I apologize again. As usual. I've been busy with school etc. since I last wrote. More specifically, busy navigating the complexities of teaching second grade English to a bunch of Muslim children in a conservative Muslim country. We're reading fairy tales this year - seemingly innocent, right? You can tell a fairy tale any way you want and still have the same ending. There is surely a totally acceptable, approved version that I'm teaching. No possible issues could arise here, right? Wrong.

Just last Wednesday:
"Someone please give me a sentence for handsome."
[Silence]
"Okay, who can tell me what 'handsome' means? Yes, Ali?"
"Miss handsome means nice to see, like beautiful."
"Exactly, yes! Like beautiful, but we use it for a boy. Now someone give me a sentence for handsome."
"I saw a handsome prince."
[Small silent giggles and shifty eyes cascade around the classroom]
"Good. Thank you. Now, our next word is married. Who can give me a sentence for married?"
[Silence. I know this will go nowhere.]
"Okay, how about 'The princess married the prince.'?"
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! Miss!!!!!!!!!!! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!
"Miss! Miss! No, put 'The princess married the princess.' It's better."
"Uhhhhmmm [Shit! Shit! What do I say???] well, I don't know......maybe. Maybe some places. *Fastest sentence I've ever said in my life.* Not here though. Let's say it this way. Please write it the way I have it on the board."

I know the ridiculous (and hilariously instantaneous) burst of laughter is due to their being seven years old, but how do you field even these innocent ideas of sexuality in a place that doesn't acknowledge any difference in orientation? Difficult, to say the least. I have no desire to lose my job and be deported (obviously) or give them a false sense of what their reality is, so what else could I say?

Follow this scene with two boys playing with something under their desk...rifling pages....whispering.
"Boys! [Jump out of their seats with guilty faces] What's this?!"

What do you think I see under their desk? Bugs? Notes? Toys? Basketballs? No. (All things I have seen though.) A copy of Sleeping Beauty, which we will read in March, open to the page of the prince kissing her awake.

"Misstyfelice! You see?? It is haram (sinful/forbidden). He is kissing her on her MOUTH!! Ewwwww. Is haram!"
"Put the book away, please. Don't bring this until we need it and I tell you to bring it to school. Or you might lose it. Then you won't have it when we need it."
"But Miiiiiissssss! It is haram."
"Well.... it's not haram because they get married. [Maybe?] Now put it away and pay attention."

Sigh. I can't even imagine what March will be like.

The black hole that is First Grade...

Little boys will discourage me from breeding yet...

[Door opens]
Ahmed: MISS!!! My pants wet! From the toilet.
Me: It's fine, Ahmed. Only water. It will dry. It's ok. Now go back to your seat.
Ahmed: No, Miss. Not water.
Me: ....What.
Ahmed: In the toilet...there is naughty boy! He take his [points to his below the belt area] and make like this [puts his finger right at his crotch and makes spraying motion].
*Sigh*

Or even worse....
[Door bangs open] MIIIISSSSS!!!!! In the toilet....there is a boy, very naughty! In his hands he take CA-CA! and he make like this [throws his hands in the air as another human might sprinkle confetti.]

WHAT is it with little boys and the toilet. I might start forbidding them to go.

Another one picks his nose and eats it...and now I know exactly when he's doing it because I will suddenly hear a chorus of five girls, "MISS! Mohammed, again he put his finger in his nose..and in his mouth!! Disgusting, Miss!" And Thursday afternoon, I looked over at Abdulrahman, quietly resting his head on his wheely backpack...and *double take* licking the wheel to make it turn.

Getting used to the difference between first and second grade might take some practice, too. I've discovered that Grade 2 students are certainly far more mature. Like yesterday, when I caught Kareem writing a love note to Fatima after their spelling test. I had told them to take out their books and read while the last few were finishing and out of the corner of my eye I see Kareem doodling at his desk.

I went over to take his scribbling away and put it in the trash and see "I LOVE YOU FATIMA" on a page torn out of his notebook. Could not even open my mouth to give out to him. I had to glide past and go erase the board so no one would see me laughing. Kareem is goofy and never stops talking while Fatima is the quietest, best behaved girl in the class. Watching him look at her slyly over his shoulder for the rest of the day almost made up for his abysmal spelling results.

Other than school news, life is going well in Sand-Land. There's still not much to do in Doha (last weekend I saw four of my students in the shopping mall). It's still sweltering, but the humidity is beginning to die down a little bit. And last weekend Blaine and I went out for our anniversary (eee) - one year. I can't believe it's been so long, especially considering none of my 'dating' experiences with the eligible non-brain-dead male population at BC ever progressed past a second date. Guess I finally got interesting. So we went to the restaurant we went to for our first date and had to refuse a fine bottle of an exclusive vintage water (it's not in a hotel so water is what you get, not wine). And then after our dinner, the manager gave us a free dessert! It was like they knew. Or like they remembered the awkward, clumsy, secretly elderly couple from last October and were impressed we can finally coordinate conversation and eating. All out, a very nice night topped off by ice cream (yes, after a piece of chocolate cake...but since Blaine doesn't like chocolate or cake- freak, I know- and I never say no to ice cream..) at Haagen-Daaz. So all's well for now.

Miss Batty

Ding ding! Round 2.

The moral of week 1: Little boys can't control themselves.

In Grade 1F:
I have a peeping tom and a flasher. Should work out well for them.
I have another boy who has never been to school (or seen other children before apparently). Generally it takes six tries for him to respond to his own name. He also cannot open or close his own pants. He also booty dances around the room shaking his rather large butt in the other kids faces when he wants a pencil or an eraser. I wish I didn't want to laugh at him.
Another boy only wants to dance. Instead of doing his mental maths today he jumped out of his chair exclaiming, ""Miss! I make dance!" and wowed me with some pretty sweet Gumby moves for a five old. Thanks, MJ.

In Grade 2C:
I have confiscated: two rulers, six pencil cases, one Bakyugan pencil sharpener the size of a softball, two baseball caps, one Matchbox car, and three water bottles.
During spelling: "MISSSSSSSSSS!!!!! MISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSTYFELICE! I spill!!"
Well....WHY do you have chocolate milk out during spelling?!?!?

Our language lesson was about family this week..one little boy told me, "Miss! I have no sisters! Four brothers only." God bless your mother.

Welcome back.

And so it begins again...

Hello again! Back for round two in the desert. I've been getting resettled in Doha and into a routine (finally!). School starts again on Monday. I am the class teacher for 1F and the English teacher for 2C. Bye-bye babies! Thank God. Pictures of my new classroom to be posted soon. I get to teach science. Week one- 'observing seeds.' Can't wait. 

Also, the notorious kindergarten child moving up into first grade? 1F. Into my class. All of the assistant teachers keep saying, "AHHHH MOHAMMED*! You have Mohammed? Ah, is too much." Can't wait.

Snack time

[Sitting at my desk correcting a few final worksheets for them]

Small spastic child: Teacha! Teacha! Miss Patreesia!
Me: [turn to child] Yes, what do you nee...
Small spastic child: Eat! [Shoves a Cocoa Puff into my mouth while I'm still talking] Eat! Eat!

I don't even like Cocoa Puffs.

You might think that's cute but all I can say is it's a good thing that tomorrow is the last day of school.