I had never taught English to kids before, let alone kids of a different country who grew up speaking a language totally unlike English. So, I prepared a lesson plan and I prepared for the worst.
I dreaded having to keep up an air of enthusiasm around the kids, but when they walked in the classroom any fears of mine vanished. This small group of middle school kids were quite fluent in English, and their unembarrassed enthusiasm took me completely by surprise. These kids were here because they wanted to learn English. The way this particular Workaway host operates is by having volunteers from all over the world come and teach these little Moroccan kids English. As such, these kids have been exposed to countless cultures and ways of life. They aren’t embarrassed by their interest in the world outside of Morocco.
I was expecting the apathy I remember from my middle school days, and when it wasn’t there I realized I could talk to and teach these students with ease. I had written out discussion topics as a part of my lesson plan, and I feared that I would run out of topics (I teach them for two hours straight through,) but running out of things to discuss became an impossibility just twenty minutes into the class. There were non-stop rapid fire questions about the U.S.—what do people from the U.S. know about Morocco? What is the biggest state? Where is Hollywood? And how do you pronounce Connecticut?
I really was expecting the whole process to be like pulling teeth, but the two hours sailed by and I had a great time. This was of course just a positive first experience and in no way telling of education and teaching as a whole (my mother could tell you plenty of stories that make teaching seem awful—plenty of stories that make it seem incredible too). But first experiences are so important for anything, and I’m just glad my first exposure to teaching didn’t leave me with the bitter cynicism of Argus Filch. For reference I recommend re-watching “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” wherein Filch, played by the inimitable David Bradley, says “there was a time when detention would find you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeon. God I miss the screaming.”