Real Quotes by Real Students – Credulous

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.
As such, I’d like to share these snippets with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.


Since the beginning of the school year, I’ve maintained a masquerade with my students. H had me pretend not to speak German, and mostly I succeeded at masking my actual knowledge. Sometimes, however, I wasn’t terribly successful. It can be awfully hard not to react automatically to a language you’ve been learning for thirteen years. And thus arose situations like the following:

Remember, Richard from this story? Well, he set the stage here as well.

Richard: “Kannst du bitte herüber rutschen?” (Can you please scoot over?)

(I do it.)

Meng (the girl who sits in front of him): “Sie versteht dich?” (She understands you?)

(Richard shakes his head “yes” and I shake mine “no.”)

Meng believed me even though I had reacted to what she said in German.

Or like this one in the 9th grade:

As I was walking around the classroom, I overheard this snippet.

Joey (the class clown): N* kann sehr gut Deutsch! (N* can speak German very well!)

Uwe: Nein! (No!)

J: “Doch!” (Literally “however”, but functions as the fantastic one-word German comeback for expressing disagreement)

U: Nein!

The emphatic refusal to believe that I might speak German on Uwe’s part was priceless.

Many of my students now know I speak German…it’s not hard to figure out if you think about it, but there is still a sizeable population that remains unconvinced. Regardless of their opinion, they all speak only English to me, so I guess H’s strategy worked.

Deine,
N*

Real Quotes by Real Students – Everything but the Kitchen Sink

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.


As such, I’d like to share these snippets with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.

Dessau has a good-sized Vietnamese population, and the parents of these families very often run shops that are full of just about anything you can imagine, from scarves to thread to tablecloths to cards to tools. One of the 8th grader’s parents has such a shop, and during the unit about jobs, he was trying to describe the store.

He said, “My parents store sells EVERYTHING…clothes, garden…Dingen…”

“Ding” is akin to “thing” in English. And this was one of those perfect situations where Dinglish* (no pun intended) came to the rescue perfectly.

Deine,
N*

*For those of you who don’t know, “Dinglish” refers fondly to situations where German (Deutsch) and English are mixed together.

Real Quotes by Real Students – Looks like German…sounds like German…

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.


As such, I’d like to share these snippets with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.

In class, we encourage all the students to speak only in English, and sometimes I’ll call them out on speaking German if I catch them at it when I’m walking around. The cleverest comeback I’ve heard all year actually came from Frank-Frederick’s (you can read about him here, here or here)  friend, “Timo”:

N* (to the student speaking German): “That’s an awfully interesting form of English your speaking.”

T: “Oh, it’s a new dialect.”

N*: “Oh really…and it sounds so much like German, too”

T: “Yes, they wanted to make it easier for us.”

Well, you can’t beat that can you? A+ for creativity.

Deine,
N*

Real Quotes by Real Students – Just Like N*

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.

As such, I’d like to share these snippets with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.


Frank-Frederick often leaves little comments for me in his essays if he knows I’ll be grading, which after hours of reading about something like the American school system, I really appreciate. In that particular essay, this is what he wrote:

“The two biggest dances of the year are Prom and Homecoming. There you can take pictures as souvenirs [like N* :D].”

I’m glad that my students did enjoy the photos that I put into my presentation.

Deine,
N*

American Cooking 101

3. Mai 2011

My “Russian” friends plus Elise, Lara’s good friend and one of the 11th graders I know from the dance group at school and the ski trip joined me for dinner and English movie night. In true N* fashion, I planned far too many things to do and through a well-honed combination of over-procrastination and under-estimation, my apartment was clean, but the cooking portion of the evening was left egregiously lacking in doneness by the time Lara, Ben and Elise arrived. In fact, of the three things to be made, none were finished. The doorbell rang just as I poured the quark layer over top of the chocolate dough for the Russische Zupfkuche (literally: Russian pluck cake) I was baking.

“Dinner’s not ready, but I’m baking a cake,” I told my friends as we walked up the stairs. They “ah’d” appreciatively at the prospect of cake and appeared to be more concerned with the art in the stairwell than with the fact that it was 6:30 P.M., and they had a delinquent cook on their hands. Granted the art in the stairwell is quite…startling (It’s not mine, lol!), but more on that at a later date.

Once in my apartment, they politely offered to help, and as much cutting was required, everyone had plenty to do while I finished making the remaining cake batter into flat, pulled-off pieces over the top of the cake. Much like me at that age, my students don’t have so much experience in the kitchen, but they are fast learners. The kitchen was a friendly bustle of chatter in English and German.

“What can I do next?” Elise asked, as I pulled a bunch of green onions from the fridge.

“Green onions,” I replied.

“What?”

“Um…these…I can’t remember the word in German.”

“Das ist doch Lauch, wahr?” interjected Ben. (That’s green onions, right?)

“Was ist dann Schnittlauch?“ said Elise. (What’s chives then?)

“Wann es geschnitten ist,“ replied Ben (When it’s cut.)  (I love this story...and included it because when I was looking through a German cookbook I was given as a birthday present, I thought the same thing at first!)

“Nee, stimmt gar nicht. Der ist dünner,“ Lara cut in. (That’s not true. Chives are thinner.)

“Ach sooooo, das stimmt,“ conceded Ben. (Ohhhhh, that’s right.)

“You mean chives?” I guessed.

“Was denn? Chi…was?” Three puzzled faces looked over at me.

“They’re skinny and green.”

“What means skinny in English?” was the next question.

“Thin. Not fat,” I suggested.

“Ach so,” said Lara, who promptly got her list and made a quick note. Being me, I happened to have a bag of dried chives in the cupboard.

“These things?” I inquired.

“Yes,” said answered Elise decisively, as she held onto one end of the bunch of green onions, “but which part of the Lauch do we eat?”

After successfully identifying and cutting up the Lauch (and the three of them crying from a combination of hysterical laughter and green onion fumes – who knew they could be potent enough to draw tears?), we were ready to make salad dressing and mix the seasoning for the oven fries. This was an experience in itself because none of them had ever seen American measuring cups and spoons.

Finally the cake came out of the oven, smelling of cocoa, the fries were put in to bake in its place, and the four of us crowded around my laptop with plates of tortellini salad to watch “Singing in the Rain” in English. I have seen the movie enough times that I can practically quote it, and it was even more fun than usual to be able to watch my companion’s reactions. “…but you have to talk into the mike first. In the bush!” and the song, “Moses Supposes,” were particular favorites.

The perfect cake

The fries were also a hit, as was the cake with its perfectly creamy quark sinking delectably into the moist chocolate layer which had a slightly crunchy crust – something that I find to be the pinnacle of cakey perfection. Surprisingly, the three different dishes, not normally served together mad ea satisfying trifecta. Lara even made the tortellini salad again with her family.

I only hope that Lara, Ben and Elise had as much fun as I did and that they didn’t mind the cooking lesson. I so much prefer cooking with people, and there’s something magical about sharing a meal that connects us to each other in a different, but just as vital way as our verbal interactions.

Deine,
N*

P.S.  My German friends are FANTASTIC!

Real Quotes by Real Students – Teacher Old

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.

To give you an idea of real life in the classroom (and hopefully a laugh or two) I’d like to share these snippets of conversation with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.


Today is two for one day at “Real Quotes by Real Students.”

My first day in the 7th grade class I work with on Mondays, the class of 28 students literally asked me questions for 45 minutes. A major contributor to this lengthy session was a talkative young man named “Fabian”. He fired off these two gems among his many queries:

“Are there some gangsters in your town?” I was not expecting this, but I guess that if you watch movies that come out of Hollywood, and you’ve never been to the U.S., this is a valid question. And well, there are some gangsters some places in the country. :)

This was followed by:

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Teacher: “Oh, you have an admirer.”

F: “No, she’s much too old for me!”

Well, glad that we’re clear about that. Apparently, I’ve entered the realm of “teacher old.”

Deine,
N*

Real Quotes by Real Students – Comic

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.

To give you an idea of real life in the classroom (and hopefully a laugh or two) I’d like to share these snippets of conversation with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.

Do you remember "Frank-Frederick", one of my 9th graders? He’s just one of those people who can always make you laugh. He is funny and he knows it, but it’s a natural kind of funny. Well, his short story on Australia was no exception to this. The whole story was well-written and full of humor, but to this day, this particular excerpt gives me a reason to smile:

“No panic on the Titanic! The tank is full and I have some reserves.”

Apparently people use the phrase, “Keine panisch auf der Titanisch” in German, but it was new certainly new to me.  I appreciate moments like these after I've been grading for hours.

Deine,
N*

Russian in Germany

19. März 2011

Over the past few months, I have been trying to learn Russian (with varying degrees of diligence). I sit in a 9th grade class a couple times a week, meet with a Russian teacher and a GT student after school and meet with two Russian students for Russian-English conversation hour on Fridays. Despite this, I often find it difficult to stay motivated without actually having a consistent class at my level. Not to mention that I’m learning in German. Oy. I have made a decent amount of progress, though, and it’s fun. I love the way the language sounds, although my pronunciation is terrible. At least the grammar makes sense to me.



Check it out!



I anticipated that my learning curve might be steeper than with previous languages I’ve learned because first I

had to learn to read and write Cyrillic (and of course, cursive and print are fairly different, just to make it more confusing), so I’ll just keep trying. If nothing else, I can speak (very) simply and I learned to read and write, which is an accomplishment in itself! Also, I find myself being able to pick the limited words I know out of conversations in Slavic languages while I’m traveling…cool!

What I really want to talk about here, though, are the relationships that I’ve gained in my attempted to learn Russian in Germany.

First, there’s my Russian teacher, Frau Doktor T (Don’t you love the German titles?). She has so much passion for the Russian language, and I actually thought she was Russian for a while. It turns out her Mom did a Russian radio show during DDR times, so she grew up with the language. She’s been really helpful in the learning process and is now a friend in the teacher room. There are around 100 teachers at my school, and I really only have a relationship with a few because people are in and out so much, so making a new friend was definitely positive. Plus, she’s really full of life and fascinating to talk to. We speak German together, and she tries out the English phrases she knows sometimes, too.

I’ve also gotten to know “der kleine Kostya,” the GT student learning Russian. I actually knew him from my time at T’s (my former host mom) school during my previous visits to Germany, so it’s funny we’ve been brought together again. He’s very shy, but lately we walk together to the train station after Russian lessons, as he goes that way to walk home. He talks and I talk – mostly in German – and it’s interesting to hear what he has to say. Sometimes you can tell that there’s so much going on in his head at once that he can’t express it all quickly enough. You can almost see wheels spinning and gears whirring – adorable. His Mom has even said that he can’t read before bed because he starts thinking about so many things that it’s impossible for him to sleep afterwards.

Perhaps some of my favorite people are my Russian-English speaking partners, Lara and Ben. They’re 9th graders, but in the U.S. you’d never believe it because they’re so smart and mature. Lara always comes to our sessions armed with a notebook to write down any words we talk about that she doesn’t know. Smart really since she and Ben are two of the 16 students from our school who will participate in the month-long exchange program in Texas this fall. Since I know them primarily from outside the classroom setting (Lara is also in the dance group I teach in at school), I’ve really gotten to know them on a much more personal level, and I think we’ve all been able to benefit from the exchange. They’ve taught me about a myriad of things in Germany from Bleigießen (lead figures that are melted over a candle on a spoon and then dropped into cold water before their shape is “read” to show what is the come in the new year) to how to tell someone their zipper is unzipped in German (valuable information, I tell you…if someone tells me that, I need to know!) to everything under the sun about the German school system to when you should (and shouldn’t) ring your bike bell. Not to mention that they’ve helped me feel truly integrated in both the school and the culture. I only hope that I’ve been able to share as much of my culture with them as they have their culture with me.



Making guac



One night they came over and we made burritos and guacamole. They’d never had guacamole before (gasp!), and we had a lot of fun mashing the avocados. In true Chipotle fashion, I helped them learn how to roll a burrito and they really managed it quite well. I was pretty sure that they enjoyed their first foray into the realm of Mexican food, and sure enough a couple of weeks later, they told me that they made burritos with their families one weekend. That really made my day.

Who would’ve thought that such fantastic relationships would come out of learning Russian in Germany? My life here is full of wonderful people, and I am so thankful for their warmness and acceptance.



Rolling like a pro...note the pinky!



Deine,

N* 



Beautiful flowers they brought me



 

Real Quotes by Real Students – Spot On

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.

To give you an idea of real life in the classroom (and hopefully a laugh or two) I’d like to share these snippets of conversation with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.

I was not privy to this conversation, which actually took place in German, but H told me about it later. It took place during in the 5th grade class, while H was spending a month observing the student teacher and I was just observing, rather than assisting for that time. There were often a lot of problems during the class; needless to say, it was not my favorite time of day. Apparently this was more obvious (at least to my seatmate – a highly perceptive…and sometimes disruptive…young man) than I thought.

“Richard”: Mrs. H, I think N* likes me.

H: What makes you think that?

R: Well, sometimes she smiles at me, but she doesn’t smile at Mrs. Student Teacher.”

Zing. In my defense, let me just say that none of the other teachers smile at “Mrs. Student Teacher” while she’s teaching either.

Deine,
N*

Real Quotes by Real Students – Confessional

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.

To give you an idea of real life in the classroom (and hopefully a laugh or two) I’d like to share these snippets of conversation with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.
In the 8th grade, the students were practicing expressing something that they did not think would happen but had indeed happened.

“Chen” raises his hand, and when called upon asks, “Does it have to be true?”

His teacher has known him since 5th grade, so she responds jokingly that they all “know he’s a liar anyways” and to “go ahead.”

“Chen” says, “I was not expecting it, but I think I’m gay.”

Gales of laughter shake the classroom. “Chen” looks pleased. Way 458 to disrupt class: falsely confess to being gay.

Deine,
N*

Real Quotes by Real Students – She’s a Man!

12. April 2011

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills (especially poker face skills!) are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.

To give you an idea of real life in the classroom (and hopefully a laugh or two) I’d like to share these snippets of conversation with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.

Maybe you remember this from long, long ago, but on my first day, in my second class ever, this situation transpired:

In the 9th class we were working on the construction “used to” today. Each of the students was to write five sentences. The standout sentence was by a boy in the front row, we’ll call him "Max", who wants to be cool. He contrived to achieve this reputation with the following remark:

“When he was young, "Phillip" used to be a girl.”

The amazing thing, is that "Phillip" thought this was funny.  This was a true test of my teacher poker face.

Deine,
N*

A Series of Random Topics

13. März 2011



Berliner Dom and blue skies...finally!

 This week, Michelle finally got to come visit me. We’d been waiting for this trip for months, especially since we hadn’t seen each other since graduation in May. I started out by surprising her at the airport (we’d arranged to meet at the train station), and we headed to the main train station, locked up her bags with a fair amount of hassle, and set off for the Berliner Dom. It had been a few years since I’d there, and Michelle never had, so the monumental greatness and beauty of the massive church was not lost on either of us. After that we walked past the Synagogue, noting a surprising number of Mexican restaurants along the way, before heading back to Roßlau to prepare for two full days at school.

Mondays and Tuesdays are always crazy to begin with, and the teachers I worked with all wanted to integrate Michelle into class work and take advantage of having another native speaker around. Even I didn’t quite anticipate how much they’d want to integrate her, and I think it was a bit overwhelming at times (sorry, Michelle!). She stepped up with ferocity, though, for topics ranging from a debate about whether gun control would lower violence in schools, to the American West, to life in small-town America, to life in the South, to small talk and teenage pregnancy. It was enough for me without the jetlag, and Michelle and I were seriously exhausted. I hope that she enjoyed experiencing the Gymnasium, even if it was hectic and stressful at times.



Salsa demo

 The big reward came at the end of the day on Tuesday when we got to teach three Salsa classes! We started in my afterschool group of 9th and 10th grade gifted English students – five girls – and decided to work on the Samba line dance before teaching a few steps of partner salsa. We only had 45 minutes, but the girls learned very quickly.

Then we worked with the 6th grade dance group on the basic salsa steps through a follow-along warm-up, reviewed the Samba line dance I’d taught them the week before and then learned some new dance steps to help them with their “Salsa personalities”. It was so good to have a chance to work with them separately from the older students because they really blossomed. Usually some of the 8th graders come at that time too, so it’s really difficult to keep a balance between the levels.

The last group included the more advanced students, ranging from 6th to 11th grade. Surprisingly they all meshed together really well. The girls seemed to enjoy the salsa, and I was also glad to see a few of my English students from 9th and 11th grade join us for the day. Since most of them are already dancers, counting was not a problem, and I couldn’t believe how quickly they picked up the steps and the Spanish names for them. An hour and a half later they could dance a full song of “Micaela” and do about six steps. Wow! Half of them had to be guys, but because there were not actual guys in attendance, it wasn’t so much of a problem. They also requested to dance the Samba line dance I taught them last week again.

I could see they were having fun, and Michelle and I certainly were! It made me so proud to see how versatile they were as dancers and how willing to take on the challenge of dancing in English and Spanish they were. I’m fantastically proud and thrilled to be lucky enough to continue working in a dance group like that!

Deine,
N*

In Which I Experience a Small Flood

11. März 2011

When I wrote about my students a while back, I mentioned Lena, one of my 9th graders. Since I’ve met her, she has continued writing e-mails to me, working hard in English and generally being interested in the U.S. She’s actually going to be able to go to the U.S. with our school’s month-long exchange program to Texas in the fall. She was a bit unsure about going at first, but when a spot opened up, she really took the initiative, so I’m incredibly proud of her.

One day we ended up talking about food, and she told me about “Grießbrei”, which they often eat for dessert in her family. Of course with my dessert project in full swing, I wanted to know how to make it. Well, Lena went home, asked her Mom about the recipe and sent me an e-mail with instructions, but then suggested we make it together sometime. And that’s how I ended up inviting her over to cook it and watch a movie with me.

Of course, the day before this, I became obsessed with the idea of Eierschecke – a three-layer cake typically found in Saxony, and especially in the city of Dresden, and decided to give it a go. However, round one was not to be because the yeast dough recipe I had ended up being faulty; I tried it twice with horrendous, rock-like results. After further research, I decided to try out a more cake-like bottom layer the next day. This was more successful, but ended up seeming a bit like my snicker doodle cookie dough, but I went ahead and greased the pan anyways. The dough looked like it might not stretch enough to fill the whole baking dish, so I decided to use only part of it and proceeded to fashion a wall out of tin foil. Don’t ask. It seemed like a good idea at the time.


Quark filling...and the wall!





 About an hour and a half before Lena was set to arrive, I was busy mixing the thick, quark filling. Quark is sort of like a mix between yogurt and cream cheese, so this filling could be compared in a way with American cheesecake. The result when it is cooked is a bit more fluid and slightly stickier, yet it somehow retains a fairly firm taste and texture. Finally I began composing the custard top, complete with separating egg yolks and egg whites. Whipping the egg whites was certainly an adventure, as I didn’t anticipate just how much they’d expand and it was necessary to transfer them to a larger bowl partway through. All in all, I felt proud of my egg-related efforts for the afternoon.

Just as I finished cooling the custard made from the egg yolks and whipping the egg whites, Lena called me. Through some miscommunication (on my part) about directions (because somehow I apparently still can’t adequately describe where I live), her Dad had brought her to the wrong house, but eventually she arrived with a box of chocolates, the Grieß and a glass jar of cherries we would later heat for the topping. I warned her about the highly experimental nature of my cake, and went about mixing the top layer. As I was pouring the egg custard over the top, I could see that there wasn’t really room for it. Just as I was sincerely regretting not rolling the bottom layer out to cover the entire pan, a flood of egg custard broke the aluminum dam and flowed as though molten across the open third of the pan.


The Grießbrei

 “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?” remarked Lena in her slightly Germanized and completely adorable British accent. Of course I replied in the negative, but decided to put the cake in the oven regardless.

In the meantime, Lena and I started in on making the Grießbrei. She told me that her Mom makes it so often that she doesn’t even have to measure the Grieß, which looked a bit like sand, anymore. While we put the cherries on to heat, we guesstimated the proper amount and cooked it. The result can best be compared to Southern grits, I think, but we’d put in a bit too much Grieß, so our version turned into large cakes of grainy stuff, much like polenta, as it cooled. It was still tasty, though.


Finished in the oven!





By then the cake was done, and by some miracle, none of it was burnt, despite the lack of uniformity in the composition. While waiting for the cake to cool, Lena and I watched The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants in English – a movie based on one of my most-read series of books and which also had a good level of English for Lena. I think she enjoyed it, and afterwards we also enjoyed the cake, which turned out to be perfectly moist and delectable, even if the aesthetic was a little unusual. I had to transfer part of the top layer so it was allocated properly across the cake.



Masterpiece

 All in all, I’d deem it a success…the cake and the evening. I’m consistently impressed with my students’ abilities in English, and the chance to interact bears innumerable opportunities for intercultural exchange. Unfortunately having my students over also means they are prone to be exposed to some of my crazy cooking/crafting ideas that are constantly underfoot in my apartment, but hey, life’s not fun without a little crazy!

Bis bald!

Deine,
N*

P.S.  If you'd like to try out the Eierschecke recipe...I used this one for the dough and this one for the top two layers, minus the lemon zest and raisins.  The only problem might be getting quark in the U.S., but I've been told that some World Markets actually carry it.

Lappach

I have to say that leaving the beautiful valley in Lappach, Italy was much harder than I imagined. While I was there, I felt at home in the beautiful, craggy Alps, that reminded me of my own Rocky Mountains, and I fell in love with the thrill of speed. Much like when I’m riding a bicycle, once I got comfortable skiing, I was enamored with the speed of it, and it’s amazing how much I improved so quickly. I only fell about 10 times the whole week and not at all in the last days. I went from skiing “pizza” to skiing “French fry” as one of my Colorado friends so eloquently put it.

There’s nothing quite like riding the ski lift to the top of the mountains at Sonnklar to enjoy a 360 degree panoramic view of snow-covered peaks and valleys filled with quaint villages, and knowing that the only way down is in your own hands. It was amazing how over the week, the slopes that seemed impossibly steep to me started to look downright inviting, and the extreme s-curves across the slope to slow my skiing turned to more gentle swoops with my increasing speed. The euphoria of the views and the speed enabled me to ignore the exhaustion that would soon set in at the end of each day. I could’ve skied forever.

On the last day, I took the test that the 11th graders had to undergo, and I came out with a ‘2’. In the German grading system, a ‘1’ is pretty much perfect, and a ‘2’ is very good, so I was pleased. The students really seemed to enjoy that I had to go through the test as well. Everyone in my ski group came through well, so we were all pleased. Learning to ski with the class allowed me that chance to talk to a lot of the students, and I’m now reaping the benefits of this in class. The seventeen-year-olds have been a tough crowd, but since I’ve worked with them after the ski trip, they seem to trust me enough to speak more. They are smart and really a pleasure to work with. At least if I had to leave the Italian Alps behind, I left with a group of students and teachers who have enlarged the family I’ve been lucky enough to build since I’ve been in Germany.

Deine,
N*

Yes it's true...I love school!

*I apologize for the long blogging hiatus!  Between life and visiting my family for Christmas, well, not much got done.  However, now I'm back!

Believe it or not, I do actually work! I know I haven’t written a lot about school up until now, but I seem to keep pretty busy between one thing and another. I only work on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays (Wednesdays I help H with the language festival or work from home, and Fridays are my day off), but Monday and Tuesday are very intense. I’m in five classes and one English A.G. (Arbeitsgemeinschaft, or afterschool club), and I’m in six classes, one English A.G. and two Dance A.G.s on Tuesday. I’m up at 5 AM, at school by 6:45 and not home until 5 or 7:30 PM depending on the day. I’m just in two classes on Thursday, which, thankfully, isn’t so strenuous, since the other days are so long. I really enjoy it, though. I’ve been going to the same classes long enough now that I know most of my students by name, and many of them are super-friendly because I’ve been around enough that they aren’t so shy anymore. I do a lot of team-teaching with H, work in small groups with students, lead parts of lessons and give long presentations. I also run/help run A.Gs., and I’m even setting a piece of jazz choreography for the dance groups. My work is varied, and I like being active in the classroom and having the chance to work with so many students.

It’s kind of a weird in-between situation that I’m in as a teaching assistant; I’m half a teacher, half a cultural exchange partner. I sit in a Russian class, and sometimes I see students outside of school. *Fun fact: It’s normal for some teachers to invite students to their houses, and that students sometimes know where their teachers live.* I really enjoy that I have the chance to get to know my students outside of the classroom because I think being able to speak without conforming to a curriculum allows the students a chance to speak English where they don’t have to worry about grades and thus facilitates a deeper level of intercultural exchange.

I know two of the classes of 9th graders the best of all my other classes because I work with them in small groups and correct a lot of their papers. One class has lots of smart students and always works really well. One of the girls from that class, Lena, has befriended me and sends me long e-mails every week. She is sweet, loves learning English, and like many of my students, she is very interested in knowing all about America. The other 9th grade class is very friendly, and I must admit, though, some of my favorite classroom personalities are in that class. There are only three girls, and one of them is Nadia. She is one of the best students in both classes, but she has no idea. Her content is always excellent and well-developed; she just needs someone to push her for perfection. I wish she realized how much she is capable of, but she’s so modest that she just sees it as part of her job as a student. Then there’s Antonin. He’s smart, but his brain goes a million miles a minute, and his mouth (and pen) just can’t keep up. He’s got great ideas, but sometimes no one can understand what he’s saying. It’s always “Slow down, Antonin.” Mercifully he’s realized what a hard time I have reading his handwriting and types all his assignments for me. Frank is also in this class. Frank’s name is really Frederick, but there are two Fredericks in the class, so the first day, when he said he is sometimes called “Frank”, I started calling him “Frank Frederick” and it stuck. He’s always laughing a smirky little laugh, but it’s not meant in a bad way. I think he just likes to see the humor in everything. I don’t mind; if something I do can make his day better…cool with me. I like to see someone get such true enjoyment out of life. He always writes funny essays and sometimes leaves little jokes meant for me in them when he knows I’ll be the one grading. I guess he thinks I’m alright. The moments when I feel accepted by my older students, who were leery of me at first, really makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something here.

Those are just a few students who jumped to my mind, but really there are so many who are eager to learn and bring their bright personalities to the classroom. Hopefully, I’ll have the chance to mention many of them in the future.

Deine,
N*

What's Your Problem?

In the two months my 5th graders have been in English class, they have learned the phrase, “What’s your problem?” It’s adorable the way they read this in dialogues in our English lessons. They always sound slightly serious when they speak because they are thinking so hard about speaking correctly. I am of the opinion that a serious question needs a serious answer, and as the student teacher is teaching the class at the moment, I find myself dreaming up answers. Right now I am feeling content, so “problem” is really a relative term…but if I had to answer the question…

My problem is yarn. Wonderful, soft, nice German yarn that seems to flaunt itself prominently wherever I go. Grocery store, department store, clothing store, dollar store, drug store, you name it, it’s there! I’ve not been in an actual yarn shop since I’ve been here, but it might be dangerous considering how much yarn I’ve accrued over the last four weeks. Granted, it’s all be ridiculously well-priced (I <3 sparangebote! (Special sale deals)), and a lot of it’s for gifts, but still. Many days you might as well call my bike the yarn taxi, since yarn is one of the few consumer items that can lure me to make a special bike trip to Dessau (one hour round trip) to buy it.

At the risk of painting myself as a bad knitter, I’ll admit that I never really got why people have yarn stashes before. Somehow I retained a strange yarn-rationale that I should only buy yarn when I needed it until now. That rule’s been officially busted, and I am now on a self-imposed yarn diet. Thankfully I can binge-knit at will since I have enough projects planned. Here’s what’s on the agenda:

1. Kitten mittens (Mietze Katze Handschuhe).

2. Many normal Handschuhe (Don’t you love German imagery...hand shoes. Why isn’t it hand socks?!).

3. Knitted cardigan (Strickjacke) with the sparangebot yarn from the Aldi (grocery store chain).

4. Super cute pullover sweater made with the 20 minute alpaca yarn. (Seriously, I made a second trip in three days to go back and get this yarn. I just know it’s going to knit up awesomely!)

Super! And now I think I’ll end this post before I wax poetic about alpaca yarn, or something equally embarrassing.

Deine,

N*

P.S. Please enable me with awesome knit ideas!

First Day

3. September, 2010

Usually the first day of school is the day you find out how your classmates are doing, meet your new teachers and determine what you’ll need to do to be successful in the coming year. Today was the first time that the day was a little different. I still did all those things, but backwards. I met my new colleagues as well as many of my students. I even did exercises with many of the classes I was in. But right away I recognized that knowing exactly what I’d need to do to be successful was much less quantifiable than in previous years. I worked with different students on reading, pronunciation and grammar, but who knows if what I did made a difference. It was strange being at the front of the classroom even though I’ve taught a lot of times before. I think the first day is always a little disarming for me. Sitting on the other side of the equation was something I was incredibly good at, and I got the results to show it. Now I wasn't get that instant feedback, I had been puzzling over this conundrum throughout the afternoon, so you can imagine my relief when I checked my mail this evening and had a message from a teacher-turned-friend asking me how I was feeling about this exact issue. I still may not know the “right” way to proceed with each of my students, but knowing that I’m not alone in this perpetual (already) questioning of methods and ideas makes me feel a whole lot better. The best thing I can do is to try to be aware: aware of needs and sensitivities; aware of the things that make my students “tic”; aware of how I can make them open to me thus making myself accessible to them. All in all, ponderous undertones or not, it was a good day. Here are a couple of memorable moments before I close:

Seeing the eager faces and welcoming smiles of the fifth graders melted my insecurities. They’re new at the school too and fairly new to English on top of that. Most of them seemed thrilled to have someone to whom they could ask the few questions they’ve learned so far and were happy to be understood. They’re still at the age where they are a little more carefree with their emotions and because I could see that spark in them today, I already know they will bring light to my days here. In a way, they’re also a mirror to my situation. In our mutual first year, we’ll experience the largest noticeable amounts of growth in our respective roles. I’m sure each of my classes will be rewarding in its own way, but there is just something about being a part of students’ first experiences with a new challenge that is very special.

Memorable moment two is slightly snarkier. (Not on my part, haha.) In the 8th class we were working on the construction “used to” today. Each of the students was to write five sentences. The standout sentence was by a boy in the front row, we’ll call him Max, who wants to be cool. He contrived to achieve this reputation with the following remark: “When he was young, Phillip (that’s what we’ll call his friend) used to be a girl.” Of course, they both thought it was hilarious. What do you even say to that? Figuring the best way not to encourage it was to continue without being perturbed, H and I focused on the grammar mistake that occurred in the original sentence instead. Oh teenage boys. I’m sure I can look forward to many unexpected statements from students this year; it just comes with the territory.

Well, I’ve not had a lot of sleep since I’ve been here and the opportunity is presenting itself, so I’ll end this here where there’s (somewhat of) a stopping point.

Deine,
N*

"Janchen"

Speaking in a foreign language requires a degree of social intrepidity that is unprecedented in comparison to any speaking situation in your native language. Essentially, anytime you open your mouth to speak, a risk is incurred. Did you understand the thread of the conversation correctly? Is your response sound? And if it is, are you accidentally employing slang or euphemisms? Even though I am typically diffident around people I don’t know well, my penchant for foreign languages has fortuitously bequeathed me with the audacity to speak up in foreign tongues. Sure, I still feel the twinge of hesitation and ponder silence, but my itch to hone my skills usually wins out in the end. Thankfully, I haven’t knowingly ended up saying anything compromising or offensive to a stranger, but I’ve had my share of awkward speaking moments and misunderstandings.
Ironically my favorite language mishap actually happened to be at a seminar for German students who were gifted in speaking English. In the three days of the program, there wasn’t very much German spoken, and it was actually my brain still being in “German mode” that created the circumstances for my miscomprehension.

The students all arrived at the hostel where we were staying at different times, and Janchen* was one of the first to show up. The teacher who invited me to the workshop as a native speaker, H (also my supervising teacher next year), said to me, “Oh, there’s Janchen, he’s the only boy here.” I inferred that the student’s name was Jan (pronounced, “Yahn”), but I was confused about why H and the other teacher kept calling him ‘Janchen’. In German, the ending “chen” (pronounced “hyen” with a hint of “ch” between the ‘h’ and ‘y’) is either used as a diminutive or as a term of endearment when added onto the end of someone’s name. Understandably I was puzzled that both teachers were referring to Jan so informally in comparison to the other students, but I went with it, figuring there was a missing link somewhere.

There was. The next day, the students reintroduced themselves since one girl arrived late. When it was Jan’s turn, instead of simply saying that his name was Jan, he put on his most serious face and said, “My name is Jan. Jan Chen.” My confusion quickly dissipated. His name was Jan SPACE Chen; he was Chinese-German. The teachers were pronouncing his last name as it would be spoken in German. Oy. I had to wear my best teacher face to keep from having a laughing fit. Not only because of my own mistake, but also because the inflection of Jan’s sentence had matched itself precisely to the statement, “My name is Bond. James Bond.” Sometimes students make the funniest, most endearing remarks without knowing it.

I never did discover why the teachers had called Jan by his first and last name smashed together, but I did share the story with them later, and we all had a good laugh about it. I guess that no matter what the reason is behind a language mistake, the two most important things are that you learn from it and that you can laugh about it later so it doesn’t stop you from putting yourself out there again.

Deine,
N*

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Bring the Fire

It often happens to me that the things I swear I will NEVER do are what I end up enjoying. I claimed I would never play in an orchestra, go to the high school I graduated from, or go to school in the South, yet all of those things came to be in my life and were positive experiences that became very important to me. I should know by now not to make blanket “never” statements because they seem to play into the destiny of my life, and in my usual fashion, it’s happened again.

When I was younger, I decided I was never going to be a teacher. I also never thought I’d work with middle and high school students, but both of those things will become part of my reality in about two months. Of course, I’m at a point where I’ve had to eat my words because working as a teaching assistant is something I’ve wanted more than anything else for the past year, and I’m excited. Honestly, I’m also scared out of my mind. Since I’m technically a teaching assistant, it’s not like I’ve been training for this. It’s just me, and the experiences that made me pursue this opportunity in the first place, getting thrown off the deep end. That’s actually alright with me because I think sometimes the best way to learn is to do. I’m prepared to learn as I go, and even though mistakes are inevitable, what’s more important is how I deal with them.

In the last week, I’ve been lucky enough to discuss teaching with two people who shaped my high school experience positively. They both gave me welcome words of advice. The first was simple but so important: Start by learning all of your students’ names and something about them. If your students feel like you are really interested in them, they are more likely to invest in you. You have to make yourself accessible and make that connection to reach them. This ties into the other piece of advice nicely: You have to carry the passion for what you are teaching in you and figure out how you can help students understand why they too want to carry that passion. This is what I call “bringing the fire.” If you don’t like or don’t care about what you do, the students will know. It’s crucial to success that you come into class with a spark. It doesn’t matter how technically well you understand teaching methods if there’s not soul to back it up. The teachers I have admired the most have all had a passionate drive and that is what allows them to relate to and motivate their students to succeed. They want every student to understand why they love what they teach and so they go out of their way to make themselves relevant to even the most resistant students. This is the kind of teacher I want to be. The more you put in, the more you get out.

Deine,
N*