Deciding whether to do one thing or another is tough.
Especially when you're rather indecisive when it comes to yourself (as opposed to what's best for other people).
It's taken me a while to decide to write this post, for starters. OK, so I've been a bit busy sorting myself out, but surely I had a spare ten minutes here and there to moan to you all (or to myself?) about the fears of getting fat, being skint and growing up. Seemingly I didn't...
Something I did make a decision about was the next chapter in my life. Which brought another bunch of indecisions with it. Where to live? Who with? What do I need in my new humble abode? How do I prioritise? Trust me, there were many more questions, and even fewer answers. Advice from family was scarce - "Do what you think is best" was the standard response from most people. And so I prioritised. And decided. And found myself a new home. "Result!" I hear you cry... Not so fast...
Now that everything but material things are sorted, I have to prioritise and decide on a more material (or superficial?) level. Do I want to get a car of my own? Indecision. I either don't want the extra expense, or will have trouble finding a parking space. In essence, I do want a car of my own. If I didn't, I wouldn't be in this dilemma. Then, there's the new-found dilemma (a somewhat stolen idea from my mate at Beetroot Soup) of whether to set up a new blog to chart the next year of my life and all its new experiences, or to just chart them here. Or to set up a blog with the same aim as Beetroot Soup, and keep Assistant Voyager to chart the random events that may or may not present themselves before me. I will still be assisting and voyaging, so maybe I should keep everything here until I'm not doing one or other of my name...
Indecision. You gotta love it.
Showing posts with label assistants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label assistants. Show all posts
Tuesday, 22 July 2008
Wednesday, 18 June 2008
The record shows I took the blows
The title of this post sums it all up really. With just over a week left in my current position as a language assistant, I'm thinking long and hard about what this year has been to me. The optimist in me tells me I've grown as a person, learnt to take the rough with the smooth (moreso than before), and above all, I'm more focussed on what I do and don't want. However, the pessimist in me tells me that this may have been one of the worst years of my life, what with a nightmare flatmate, horrible children to teach and a lot of uncertainty over whether I am who I thought I was.
Luckily for me, I'm an optimist. But even though I look back positively on this past year, I won't be missing it too much once I get back to the UK. I'm going to miss my new friends, and I hope that like my last experience as an assistant, that we stay in contact and keep each other updated on developments in our lives - particularly our globe-trotting locations. And I guess I'm going to miss the sunshine, although this year's summer so far has been rather disappointing on Toulonian standards. Seems I brought the luck of the Irish, I mean Welsh, with me after all. But it can't have been that bad, I have a lovely tan to show for my life in the sun.
France will forever be a place that I associate with escapism and good times, but at the same time I could never commit to coming back here on a more permanent basis. Not until I'm old enough to retire, anyway. Yearly holidays to visit friends that are still here will be enough to satisfy my nostalgic yearnings, which will surely come to the fore in about a year's time.
How do I know this? Because I'm having many nostalgic episodes about my time at university these days. When I left a year ago, I swore to high heaven that it would be a long time before I was ready to go back. I actually visited for a few days in February and it was amazing, but I wasn't quite ready to subject myself to the memories of finals and the like. But now I am ready for that - I'm ready to think about and recount the stress and difficulty of finals. I guess that's what graduation is for - to close the book on the best and worst years of your life, for whatever reason.
And so, as I foray into a summer of the unknown before continuing my life path in September, I'd say this year has done at least one thing for me: it's let me go back to being me.
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
A sign of the times
Maybe I'm getting old. Or maybe I'm just irritable. Or even plain impatient.
I speak of the mentality of the kids I teach. Particularly the one older pupil that I give private lessons to. I guess the kids at school are young enough to ask questions that annoy me. But my private student doesn't seem to use common sense or his initiative at all.
Yesterday's lesson was a prime example: I set him an exercise, and he wrote something that was wrong and crossed it out to correct himself. He turned to me and asked if it mattered that he had crossed out an answer on the page. Bear in mind that these lessons are essentially informal, in that I pretty much decide on the spot what areas are going to be covered in the hour that I'm paid to take charge of this boy. Now also consider that this boy comes along to my flat, uses my paper (because he 'forgets' to bring an exercise book/pad of paper of his own every week), and my pens to write with, and he asks if it matters that there's a crossing out on the page. I'm all for neat work, but come on! There is a rather large grey area when it comes to how one gauges neatness.
So the kid isn't big on making his own decisions. Not exactly a big deal, you may think. But then there's the frustration of him being reluctant to actually think for himself during this hour that he is with me.
I set him something to gauge what he knows and doesn't know, and explain that he just has to give it a go so that I don't tell him something that he already knows - what's the point of that? But because I term some things differently to the text book he uses at school, he assumes he's never done it. And for the record, I usually do the first one as an example to show him, so he can see what he has to do.
So I leave him to it while I go potter about with coffee/coke/juice etc. I come back, he tells me he's finished, and he's not even attempted it half the time, prompting a conversation (in French) along the lines of:
Him: I'm not sure I'll get it right.
Me: You pay me to tell you if you've got it right or not. And if not, I'll explain it to you so that you know in future.
Him: But I'm not sure.
Me: Try. You learn more like that, than from being told what to do with you having made no effort.
And so he gives it a go. And eight times out of ten, he's bang on the mark.
So is it shyness? Laziness? A genuine fear of being wrong? Or maybe he's trying too hard and making it more complicated than it actually is? Whatever it is, I'm struggling to find a way to get him to work things out for himself. Why make it simply a lesson in English when I can teach him lifelong skills (namely multitasking) at the same time? Thinking and working are generally considered to go together anyway, aren't they?
I speak of the mentality of the kids I teach. Particularly the one older pupil that I give private lessons to. I guess the kids at school are young enough to ask questions that annoy me. But my private student doesn't seem to use common sense or his initiative at all.
Yesterday's lesson was a prime example: I set him an exercise, and he wrote something that was wrong and crossed it out to correct himself. He turned to me and asked if it mattered that he had crossed out an answer on the page. Bear in mind that these lessons are essentially informal, in that I pretty much decide on the spot what areas are going to be covered in the hour that I'm paid to take charge of this boy. Now also consider that this boy comes along to my flat, uses my paper (because he 'forgets' to bring an exercise book/pad of paper of his own every week), and my pens to write with, and he asks if it matters that there's a crossing out on the page. I'm all for neat work, but come on! There is a rather large grey area when it comes to how one gauges neatness.
So the kid isn't big on making his own decisions. Not exactly a big deal, you may think. But then there's the frustration of him being reluctant to actually think for himself during this hour that he is with me.
I set him something to gauge what he knows and doesn't know, and explain that he just has to give it a go so that I don't tell him something that he already knows - what's the point of that? But because I term some things differently to the text book he uses at school, he assumes he's never done it. And for the record, I usually do the first one as an example to show him, so he can see what he has to do.
So I leave him to it while I go potter about with coffee/coke/juice etc. I come back, he tells me he's finished, and he's not even attempted it half the time, prompting a conversation (in French) along the lines of:
Him: I'm not sure I'll get it right.
Me: You pay me to tell you if you've got it right or not. And if not, I'll explain it to you so that you know in future.
Him: But I'm not sure.
Me: Try. You learn more like that, than from being told what to do with you having made no effort.
And so he gives it a go. And eight times out of ten, he's bang on the mark.
So is it shyness? Laziness? A genuine fear of being wrong? Or maybe he's trying too hard and making it more complicated than it actually is? Whatever it is, I'm struggling to find a way to get him to work things out for himself. Why make it simply a lesson in English when I can teach him lifelong skills (namely multitasking) at the same time? Thinking and working are generally considered to go together anyway, aren't they?
Friday, 7 December 2007
And so it is...
...Just like they said it would be.
Well, almost. So I feel very much settled into my new (former) way of life. I even find myself smiling about things that would have seriously pissed me off this time last year. Although I'm frowning about things I've never had to worry about before (note previous post). But that aside, it's shaping up to be a pretty good end of year. I'm even starting to regret my haste in booking flights over the holidays. If I'd have hung in there a little longer, I may have done something a little different this year. But two weeks at home will not go amiss. Not by a long shot.
So today I was 'visited' as a means of seeing if I'm doing my job properly. Whilst receiving constructive criticism like a real trooper and taking on board suggestions to improve the structure of my lessons, I was not in the slightest amused at having the content of what I've been teaching questioned. And so I rather literally imploded in the staff room at school today, telling the woman (who I had never met before, despite her being my "main contact") very calmly (whilst going demented inside) that what I had taught is actually what we say in English. And in response she said "Well in the grammar books I teach with, it says this..."
Maybe it's just because of what I learnt about for the Linguistics part of my course at uni, but having something written down in black and white doesn't mean in any way that what you see is what you get. It could be that you never got nor never will get what is written before your eyes. How many times was there a mistake in a grammar book at school? Rules change. Not overnight, but they change. Stupid woman today was clearly ignorant of that fact.
And there we have it. The dampener to a good week. And that one lemon too many that could make this month really bitter.
Roll on the holidays. At least then I'll be with people who speak the way I do. And not from the rules they learnt in a book.
Well, almost. So I feel very much settled into my new (former) way of life. I even find myself smiling about things that would have seriously pissed me off this time last year. Although I'm frowning about things I've never had to worry about before (note previous post). But that aside, it's shaping up to be a pretty good end of year. I'm even starting to regret my haste in booking flights over the holidays. If I'd have hung in there a little longer, I may have done something a little different this year. But two weeks at home will not go amiss. Not by a long shot.
So today I was 'visited' as a means of seeing if I'm doing my job properly. Whilst receiving constructive criticism like a real trooper and taking on board suggestions to improve the structure of my lessons, I was not in the slightest amused at having the content of what I've been teaching questioned. And so I rather literally imploded in the staff room at school today, telling the woman (who I had never met before, despite her being my "main contact") very calmly (whilst going demented inside) that what I had taught is actually what we say in English. And in response she said "Well in the grammar books I teach with, it says this..."
Maybe it's just because of what I learnt about for the Linguistics part of my course at uni, but having something written down in black and white doesn't mean in any way that what you see is what you get. It could be that you never got nor never will get what is written before your eyes. How many times was there a mistake in a grammar book at school? Rules change. Not overnight, but they change. Stupid woman today was clearly ignorant of that fact.
And there we have it. The dampener to a good week. And that one lemon too many that could make this month really bitter.
Roll on the holidays. At least then I'll be with people who speak the way I do. And not from the rules they learnt in a book.
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
Arrested Development
So... developments Toulon end: my second American flatmate is moving out. She has been extremely underhand and sneaky about it all, I have to say, saying one thing when I'm around and then another to everyone else. She made out to me that she couldn't afford to keep living in this apartment, to which I was sympathetic given my own low monetary funds since I stopped receiving my student loan. Then she proceeded to tell me that she found it difficult to live with me sometimes because I give the impression that I want to be on my own and not to be disturbed. I asked for examples of occasions when this had happened, after apologising and stressing that it was not an intentional action, to which she replied: "Well, mainly during the week when you get in from school." Now, excuse me if my blatancy is in overdrive here, but isn't it completely normal that I want an hour or two to myself after being at school all day, having got up at 6.30am, left the apartment at 7.30am and started teaching at 8.30am? Needless to say, I got rather upset that she was insinuating that it was my behaviour that was leading her to move out whilst maintaining to me that the main factor is financial.
I then found out days later that her reasons for leaving that she had given to everyone else were in fact what she insinuated to me. She led our French flatmate/landlord to believe that we had argued, which he found rather strange because he finds me quiet and pleasant to live with (according to his girlfriend). I was asked if I could think of anything other than the reason she had already given me that might have made her mad with me, but I couldn't think of anything. Then, on Friday evening, K (another assistant) came around and she, H (French flatmate's girlfriend) and I think we worked it out. Turns out that she first mentioned moving out while I was at home during the holidays at the beginning of this month - which was just after the "rooting through my personal effects" incident, which I thought had been sorted immediately. Clearly it wasn't. So rather than respect and accept my displeasure at her having invaded my privacy, she took that and multiplied it ten-fold in her mind to the point where she believes I'm in a bad mood all the time.
Naturally, I beg to differ. Yes, I was unhappy before going home for that break during the holidays. But I came back refreshed and with a much better outlook on my time here than I had on the outward journey. And I completely refuse to let her tell people otherwise - if she can tell other people that there is a problem, then she can tell me. I was totally oblivious to my 'unsociable' behaviour. After the DVD incident, she knew full well that I am the type of person that prefers to air my feelings in certain respects. She clearly cannot handle my blunt, direct nature. And that, I'm afraid, is her problem, not mine. I did all I could to make her feel welcome and help her settle in, despite my own unease at the beginning of this experience. My efforts were clearly wasted.
On the upside, this weekend I attended the belated birthday party of one of the assistants and had lots of fun. And then on Saturday, I went to a semi-belated Thanksgiving dinner and had lots of fun helping with cooking the meal and getting into the Christmas spirit. I say Christmas spirit, as the whole day was identical to what Christmas Day is going to be like at home. I can't wait. It reminded me of what I like about Christmas: being around family and friends, having a good time and feeling happy. I was starting to become cynical as to whether the spirit of Christmas still existed, but thanks to this Thanksgiving I'm certain that it does. Now we just need to abolish the commercialism of Christmas, then the festivities will really have meaning for everybody. In that respect, I'm jealous that the British people don't celebrate Thanksgiving.
I then found out days later that her reasons for leaving that she had given to everyone else were in fact what she insinuated to me. She led our French flatmate/landlord to believe that we had argued, which he found rather strange because he finds me quiet and pleasant to live with (according to his girlfriend). I was asked if I could think of anything other than the reason she had already given me that might have made her mad with me, but I couldn't think of anything. Then, on Friday evening, K (another assistant) came around and she, H (French flatmate's girlfriend) and I think we worked it out. Turns out that she first mentioned moving out while I was at home during the holidays at the beginning of this month - which was just after the "rooting through my personal effects" incident, which I thought had been sorted immediately. Clearly it wasn't. So rather than respect and accept my displeasure at her having invaded my privacy, she took that and multiplied it ten-fold in her mind to the point where she believes I'm in a bad mood all the time.
Naturally, I beg to differ. Yes, I was unhappy before going home for that break during the holidays. But I came back refreshed and with a much better outlook on my time here than I had on the outward journey. And I completely refuse to let her tell people otherwise - if she can tell other people that there is a problem, then she can tell me. I was totally oblivious to my 'unsociable' behaviour. After the DVD incident, she knew full well that I am the type of person that prefers to air my feelings in certain respects. She clearly cannot handle my blunt, direct nature. And that, I'm afraid, is her problem, not mine. I did all I could to make her feel welcome and help her settle in, despite my own unease at the beginning of this experience. My efforts were clearly wasted.
On the upside, this weekend I attended the belated birthday party of one of the assistants and had lots of fun. And then on Saturday, I went to a semi-belated Thanksgiving dinner and had lots of fun helping with cooking the meal and getting into the Christmas spirit. I say Christmas spirit, as the whole day was identical to what Christmas Day is going to be like at home. I can't wait. It reminded me of what I like about Christmas: being around family and friends, having a good time and feeling happy. I was starting to become cynical as to whether the spirit of Christmas still existed, but thanks to this Thanksgiving I'm certain that it does. Now we just need to abolish the commercialism of Christmas, then the festivities will really have meaning for everybody. In that respect, I'm jealous that the British people don't celebrate Thanksgiving.
Saturday, 20 October 2007
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
To be in a country that I love, speaking a language that fascinates me and doing a job that gives me a great sense of satisfaction is a wonderful thing. Unfortunately, I continue to be of the mindset that it's not enough.
My first week of teaching has gone really well. All my classes are enthusiastic, some much more than others, but they listen and they are learning. Already. To start with, they insisted that they knew not a single word of English, other than "hello", but come the end of the first lesson they had aready acquainted me with snippets of what they'd learnt last year from the previous assistant. That makes me feel good too, as it means I can build on what they know, and not teach the same thing eight times per week.
In addition to my first successful week of teaching here, there is my growing confidence in my French skills. I'm learning more and more each day about the culture of France. My vocabulary is building, and I even added the 'French Word of the Day' application on facebook. Sounds like a right cliché, but I've actually learnt a few words through that. Being called "une vraie pro" with regard to my oral French skills is also very much an ego-increasing element to my time here.
And let's not forget, I'm in a country where strike action is the norm for any employment dispute of any calibre - something that at some point this year will work in my favour, no doubt. Just as long as I'm not on an overnight train when an impromptu strike begins...
But for those three positive elements, there are two negatives (isn't there always?).
My previous experience as an assistant was the way it was largely due to the tight support network we assistants set up for ourselves. That hasn't happened here, I can say that I have a small network around me, which is absolutely lovley don't get me wrong, but considering that there are around 25 assistants living in and around Toulon, I find it really hard to say I'm happy the way things are when nobody has reciprocated the efforts made for everyone to get together since we all "settled" in and began our new roles in our schools. Maybe it's because I live further out from the centre ville than everyone else, but I can't help feeling that I'm being left out somehow (me and my flatmate who is also an assistant) - if someone wants to post pictures on facebook of a bunch of people at the beach in mid-October, then that's fine, but don't make friends with a person who could have also gone to the beach, had she been invited...
And then there's the homesickness that lingers still. Part of me feels it's because of the left-out sentiment that I have. Another piece of me just thinks I made a mistake in coming back to France - I was perhaps a little (or very) naive in thinking that the experience would be pretty much the same as before. "Lightening doesn't strike twice in the same place" I thought when I applied, which prompted me to apply to a different region with a different age group to before. I got half my wish, and the elements that have stayed the same are the ones that are making me happiest at the moment. Only the fact that I'm not living alone has been a change for the better. Anything else that has changed is making me very miserable indeed.
"A change is as good as a rest"? Like hell it is. And so I've cracked. I've bought a return ticket (very important that I stress it is a RETURN ticket) to the UK during the holidays. It cost me a fortune. But I think it'll be worth it. Going back to what I know should help me see what I have amongst the unknown, right?
My first week of teaching has gone really well. All my classes are enthusiastic, some much more than others, but they listen and they are learning. Already. To start with, they insisted that they knew not a single word of English, other than "hello", but come the end of the first lesson they had aready acquainted me with snippets of what they'd learnt last year from the previous assistant. That makes me feel good too, as it means I can build on what they know, and not teach the same thing eight times per week.
In addition to my first successful week of teaching here, there is my growing confidence in my French skills. I'm learning more and more each day about the culture of France. My vocabulary is building, and I even added the 'French Word of the Day' application on facebook. Sounds like a right cliché, but I've actually learnt a few words through that. Being called "une vraie pro" with regard to my oral French skills is also very much an ego-increasing element to my time here.
And let's not forget, I'm in a country where strike action is the norm for any employment dispute of any calibre - something that at some point this year will work in my favour, no doubt. Just as long as I'm not on an overnight train when an impromptu strike begins...
But for those three positive elements, there are two negatives (isn't there always?).
My previous experience as an assistant was the way it was largely due to the tight support network we assistants set up for ourselves. That hasn't happened here, I can say that I have a small network around me, which is absolutely lovley don't get me wrong, but considering that there are around 25 assistants living in and around Toulon, I find it really hard to say I'm happy the way things are when nobody has reciprocated the efforts made for everyone to get together since we all "settled" in and began our new roles in our schools. Maybe it's because I live further out from the centre ville than everyone else, but I can't help feeling that I'm being left out somehow (me and my flatmate who is also an assistant) - if someone wants to post pictures on facebook of a bunch of people at the beach in mid-October, then that's fine, but don't make friends with a person who could have also gone to the beach, had she been invited...
And then there's the homesickness that lingers still. Part of me feels it's because of the left-out sentiment that I have. Another piece of me just thinks I made a mistake in coming back to France - I was perhaps a little (or very) naive in thinking that the experience would be pretty much the same as before. "Lightening doesn't strike twice in the same place" I thought when I applied, which prompted me to apply to a different region with a different age group to before. I got half my wish, and the elements that have stayed the same are the ones that are making me happiest at the moment. Only the fact that I'm not living alone has been a change for the better. Anything else that has changed is making me very miserable indeed.
"A change is as good as a rest"? Like hell it is. And so I've cracked. I've bought a return ticket (very important that I stress it is a RETURN ticket) to the UK during the holidays. It cost me a fortune. But I think it'll be worth it. Going back to what I know should help me see what I have amongst the unknown, right?
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