The first few times I couldn't go because I was very sick. I was first sick with fever and dizziness, which then turned into Chicken Pox. Then there were a couple of stomach bugs. So if you were to ask me how I was doing back then, I would say very poorly.
I wanted to teach English so much that I had begun to ask my parents if they would go and get me some kids from #46, because I had worked out the lessons and the plans. Here's what they were: they would come around lunch time, and we would have lunch at my house. Then we would go to my room and start out with roll call. Then we would get to the lesson. Lessons would start with the alphabet and pronouncing the letters. After snack and a quick five minute break, the second hour would be putting sounds together to make works. That would be how the class would go. After putting sounds together and pronouncing the words, we would all have dinner at my house, and they would go home. During the meals and breaks we would get to know each other. Thinking about this all always made me impatient for it to happen.
I got to go with Mother for the first time yesterday. When we first got there, two girls came in first - Fareeda and Masha. Next came two Natashas. We started off with cups and cubes. Mother would say, "put the cube into the cup," or "put the cubes underneath the cup." The class went well - not like other classes, Mother said, because the ones she had been at previously had been loud, and not a lot of people paid attention to her.
I was there to observe and not help yet, said Mother.
But I did get to participate in some things. After a while, a boy named Dima came and Mother brought out Bingo. I played with them and got to call out the numbers of the balls. I think Natasha #2 won. The boy Dima was very good at reading, and he read the first page of the book she brought, "Sylvester and the Magic Pebble." I went around taking pictures.
When they noticed a bad cut on Mommy's arm, I drew a picture on the board to help them understand what she was telling them about how she got hurt (she tries not to speak Russian with them). I showed a picture of stairs with a stick person flying on her back downward with her hair streaming out behind her. Mom laughed but told me to erase it.
Now that I see the way the children act and their ages, I don't know if I can do a class. They are unruly; they have no respect for grown-ups, sometimes even my mom. Since they are 12 and up, most of them, I want to be about their age, or they may not treat me like someone who is teaching them English. They may treat me like a little kid playing dolls. I hope that in the future I may be able to have that happen still. I want them to be able to grow to have a relationship with God and to know English.
