I'm proud of them.

Sabbath, October 13, 2012 2:00pm

Things have been busy but good lately. I am so proud of the ESL students because they understand so much more than when they first got here just over a month ago. Some had panicked faces when I asked their names at the beginning of the year, and now they can understand quite a bit of what I’m saying if I use very simple vocabulary, hand motions, and an occasional Arabic word.

I’m having a hard time with the idea of leaving in December. I am supposed to go home to my normal life and just continue. And my core resists that intensely—not the going home part, but the part that is me just moving on as if none of this exists. My best comparison is to an ended relationship. It hurts incredibly deeply to leave, but you know that you must find a new normal. And knowing that time heals is fiercely bittersweet because you want to be okay, but the thought of not being as close to someone or something that was once your world is such a broken thought. “Broken” meaning, messed up… or not the way that things were supposed to be. Coming home is inevitable, and I love home. I miss home. But I just don’t want to let this go. How in the world will I let go? This whole world is here. And it’s not just a person or two. It’s 160 plus the ones that have finished or dropped out plus the sound of the mosques and the donkeys and the familiar hallways and smells. I hold on to things very deeply, and it’s hard for me to let go. But I will. Enough, that is.


Bassem is a senior that I taught in ninth grade. I have always liked him, but he hasn’t always been the easiest student. He seemed pent up with deep thoughts and emotions, and just unsettled and angry. It comes very naturally to me to see and believe that there is a lot of good in people, or at least the potential for good. I’m very thankful that God has given me an empathetic heart, and Bassem has always had a special place in my heart. Anyway, I remember that in ninth grade, he was assigned to work with another student in class, and they were having some sort of a scuffle and were both too proud to do a class-related activity together that they preferred to be sent to the principal. Stupid. The other night I was talking to Gladys, and I was saying that I was so proud of him because he seems much more mature than he used to and he was up front translating for Pastor Tom. She said that he has changed so much and that one time he reacted in some positive and unexpected way. Pastor Tom asked him, “Bassem, what happened to you? Where did you learn that?” “From you.” Tears just rushed to Pastor Tom’s eyes.

It’s times like that that make up for the illogical student who stands up to give a contradictory diatribe about how the teacher is unfair followed by a standing ovation from the rest of the class. It’s times like that that make up for ESL boys trying to fight, having to be held back by other classmates the one time that we go outside to sing songs and do something different for Bible class.


After study hall in the ad building, I was by the water fountain by one of my eleventh grade students. I felt like I should stay and connect with him just for a second by asking him how he was doing in a tone like I actually wanted to know. He said he was fine and told me that he was so excited when he heard that I was coming back because he had heard from the other students who had had me before that I was a nice and good teacher. That surprised me but made me feel good, especially since this guy and I don’t really connect in class at all. He came to me the next night after punching a wall. So I took care of his hand, and tried to talk to be as understanding as I could. I asked him what he does when he’s angry and some other questions. I asked him if he talks to anybody. He told me that he’s not really close to anyone here. I told him that I would listen if ever he needed someone. And he smiled at me. And I felt his trust.

There’s a girl in ESL here who bothered me at first. She wears smoky eye makeup and in the rare times that she would make eye contact, she would close here eyes halfway like someone next to a bonfire and her head would ever so slightly bobble around. What are you doing? I spent a while trying to figure out if there was something wrong with her or if she was just strange like that. Her English is probably the worst in the entire class. And her shyness and insecurity are obnoxious in that she almost refuses to try to understand English and will ask questions through other people. She didn’t want to say something out loud in Arabic but wanted to speak through a friend. I told her no. While seeing other sick girls in the dorm, I have had the opportunity to connect with her. We don’t talk at all because her English is just as bad as ever (poor thing is about to drown…), but she makes eye contact with me and smiles. She likes me. I love her.

With my juniors and seniors I have been teaching them about confrontation and about self-defeating habits. I taught them how to use I-Statements (I feel…, It hurt me when…, etc.), to not use superlatives (always, never, everyone, all the time, etc), and some other things. One boy told me very frankly that he wasn’t going to use any of this stuff in real life but is just studying to pass the class. I told him that that’s fine because it’s now in his head, and he will benefit greatly from just being aware of it. I worry about this student a lot. He so much trapped inside of him. He’s just a big ball of hurt, and I don’t know what happened, but I want him to be okay. Hopefully God can use me to help him. I feel like the forgiveness part of our class will be incredibly difficult but potentially groundbreaking.