The Most Challenging Part

Upon reading my blog posts and thoughts from earlier this semester, I have become aware that I worried about all of the wrong things. I worried about finances, but I received a refund from the college. I worried about safety, but Thailand is probably the safest country in all of Asia. I worried about getting to the grocery store and buying food and stuff, but we do that every week.

In fact, my biggest struggle is not the language barrier, as I once thought it'd be. Although Thai is a tonal language (which makes it incredibly difficult to speak), I can get by with a few simple phrases, numbers, and lots of pointing and nodding and wai-ing (bowing). Also, adding "khaa" to the end of anything makes it more polite. Don't get me started on reading and writing Thai, however. That's not going to happen in 13 weeks! :)

My biggest struggle is not even the cultural differences. As my roommate Cara says, when you start to understand a culture or people group anthropologically, you can understand why they do (and don't do) certain things. For example, Thai people don't wear their shoes in homes, especially someone else's home. For one, the ground is dirty and many Thai people walk or ride songtaos or motorbikes. In addition, most people here who have pretty good jobs hire a mae baan (may BAHN), like a housekeeper, to sweep, mop, clean bathrooms, etc. Our mae baan visits once a week for half a day. Mae baans may also be asked to watch after children, do laundry, cook meals, etc. Wealthier people may hire a mae baan to live in their homes full time. Anyway, one reason Thai people don't walk in someone's house with their shoes on is because it shows disrespect to the mae baan or whoever cleaned the house. Thais (and Asians in general) are very focused on respect. I have observed and experienced, however, that Thai people are very forgiving. Believe me, I have made many mistakes, like pointing at something with my foot, dropping baht (currency), giving and taking baht with my left hand, saying thank you in English instead of Thai (and once saying hello instead of thank you because I forgot which was which), and eating with my fork (and probably more I'm not aware of!). While most people don't mind it, is culturally incorrect to lift your fork to your mouth. Instead, the fork is used to push food onto the spoon, which you then eat from. (With the spoon in your right hand.) For a long time, I didn't understand why this was the way things were done. And then I tried eating a rice-based dish with a fork while having a conversation. Impossible. It is so much easier to scoop your rice and pork into a spoon than to try to balance rice on your fork! Now that I've learned how to use my fork and spoon, even something so small, I feel more able to handle the culture.

My biggest struggle is not even homesickness. I know, I know. Hearing me say this may make you think that I don't miss you all. Believe me, I do. Tremendously. I think of you guys a lot. I miss the funny things you do and say. I miss not having to explain funny memories. I miss your companionship. I miss hanging out with guys my own age. I also miss a lot of things from the states, like Chick-Fil-A (although this cute little restaurant near my neighborhood can whip up some awesome khao mun gai - rice with chicken). I miss being able to drive myself, because I have to depend on songtaos and generous friends and my own bicycle to get places. Also, not being able to communicate effectively with most people at markets, stores, and restaurants is challenging. It's a challenge, but I'm learning to rise to it and seek help when I need it. That's not my biggest struggle.

For a long time, my biggest struggle here was that I was the only person with my unique experience. I was the only student teacher from TFC at GIS. I felt very alone. And then I met Amy, who just graduated from a teacher education program in Colorado (she did her student teaching in the Fall). Amy has been a safe person for me to talk to, and we can share our student teaching experiences and our mutual worries over our futures. With someone who understands a little more than most people by my side, my biggest struggle most recently has been lesson planning. I know, it sounds really pathetic. I mean, yeah, I have spent the last three years learning how to write and teach lesson plans. But when you're actually sitting down to do it day in and day out, it is extremely difficult. I'm taking my teacher's plans from previous years and what their students need this year (and in the case of one class, two teachers' plans and needs), combining that with my unit plans that I've developed to include all my resources, mixing that with the college wants me to do, developing materials and resources where I don't already have them, and filling out the lesson plan format according to what the college requires. I am overwhelmed with all that is required (for all the different people) and how I am supposed to finish all of my lesson plans by Thursday night when I've spent all my free time (and after school until 5 or 6) gading papers, tests, and finding resources. Okay, so I know it sounds like I'm complaining, and I appreciate the high standard I'm being held to, but it is very difficult being responsible for so much and investing into these kids at the same time.

But you know what I've realized? I'm not an excellent teacher if my lesson plans are perfect but my students don't know they are loved. Granted, I have to know what I'm doing each class period, especially because I'm being evaluated practically every day. However, if I am here just to teach, I am failing at life. To paraphrase Paul's letter to the Corinthians:

If I could speak all the first languages of my ELL students, but didn't love them, I would only be a noisy gong or clanging symbol. If had the gift of differentiation, and if I understood all literature and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such alignment to the standards that my students not only aced all tests but could apply their learning to the real world, but I didn't love them, I would be nothing. If I gave my afternoons and weekends to working with students and even if, God forbid, I died in the line of protecting my students, I could boast about it; but if I didn't love them, I would have gained nothing.

(Paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 13:1-3)

So this is what I'm left with. I only have two more weeks of intense student teaching lesson plans, so I'm going to make the most of it even though it is hard, and I'm going to continue to love on my kids.

Please be praying that I would have opportunities to encourage my students. I have 43 ninth graders in three classes and 23 seniors in one class. Please pray that conversations and lessons would be edifying and God would be the center. Please also pray for my students' families, many of whom are involved directly in international missions. Ask God for safety and direction for their ministries.

Amen.

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"Seek Him. Be Here. Be His."