Monthly Archives: March 2011

Dear Ms. Welton,

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“I will help you merry and I hope you will merry.”

This letter came from the same student who mentioned my relationship status in a previous note to me, I once again told her the appropriate spelling for “marry”. My teaching lessons obviously sink in well.

After I read this letter (and laughed) I asked my student how she was going to help me ‘marry’.  She thought seriously for a second and then responded, “I will pray for you!”

I gave her a high-five.

True to her word, during the morning meeting she prayed for me to find a husband and get married. We’ll see if God was listening in (I mean He is always listening in).

 

We have each corner of our classroom dedicated to a season. now that spring is here the flowers have gone up! each student wrote spring words or a poem on their own flower (fake, of course, the real ones haven't actually shown up yet even though it is technically SPRING).

 

taxes.

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You don’t even want to read the rest of this post after seeing the title. Do you? DO YOU?

I love putting things off until the last-minute.

Obviously.

I just want to write about my amazing trip to Malaysia and post up pictures and talk about hiking through the oldest rain forest in the world and snorkeling (FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER) and laying on the beach , and going to the movies three nights in a row (now that is a vacation!), and attending a fantastic teaching conference, EARCOS, and meeting Geoff Green, who has been to Antarctica SEVENTY-NINE times (dude, just stop counting, but really-I would count too), and getting a foot massage (WHO KNEW they were so painful and why did no one warn me?)…

But instead I am thinking about… TAXES. Which is the equivalent to DEATH in my brain. Especially when living overseas. Can someone help me? PLEASE?

Blogging at the airport, LOVE IT.

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I was walking down the many steps that exist in Korea, these ones happening to be at my subway stop, after spending a fantastic evening with an amazing friend… and this thought suddenly hit me.

Every single person who stares at me here, in South Korea, knows immediately that I am not from here.  This is not my home land.

Though, over the past six months I have gotten more and more comments about my ethnicity, “Are you half?” is a constant question. Still,  with these inquiries I know that even if people think I am half, they still know. I am not from Here. I am not Korean. I am different.

And yet I live here, this is the place I now call my home.

Speaking of traveling (which I wasn’t, but who needs a smooth transition when I am about go to MALAYSIA!) I am writing this blog post sitting in a free internet lounge where tiny computers are locked to little desk for people to browse the internet at the Incheon International Airport. What other country would set up a bunch of computers and say, “Hey, have a good time while you wait for your flight!” I have been to this airport so many times and I have never seen this place, or passed right by it not realizing what it was.

THIS. IS. AMAZING.

ninja

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We are in the middle of Wicked Wacky Week here at APIS. Today is Career Day. As the school day started I was greeted by a professional golfer, an archer, a baseball player, soccer player, fashion designer, “seller” (she was selling the fashion designer’s clothes), and astronomer (to name a few). It was a tough decision for me, as far as what I wanted to dress up as. After contemplating being a national geographic photographer, a novelist, a teacher (wait…), I decided what I really want to be most when I grow up is… a ninja.

This morning my first student arrived and said, “but Ms. Welton, Joon* said all ninjas are bad.” With no hesitation my immediate reply was, “Not Ms. Welton Ninja.” I almost felt bad when a look of pure relief came over his face. “Aaaahhh, I see.” KIDS, I just want to hug them!

“Ms. Welton, Ninja don’t wear earrings,” another student informed me.

“Oooohhhh….”

*Name Change

 

I forgot my katanas at home. oops...

“What a difference a pill makes.”

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I started my day in agonizing pain. I hate this time of the month. I hate it when it lands around my busy time (oh wait, always busy? check). My graduate class showed empathy and prayed for my migraine to go away.

I am sorry can I repeat that? I am in graduate class, and my cohort PRAYED FOR ME, one classmate also provided me with drugs (God provides!). Within one hour my headache was gone and I went from head down, internally screaming in pain, to head up and participating like my normal self.

After one particular explanation on my part about a case study we were looking at (I may have emphasized my point in a very enthusiastic way, shocking I know) my professor looked at me and said, “What a difference a pill makes.”

AND PRAYER!

Still claiming freedom from these headaches. God heals.

You teach. I learn.

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It is a humbling experience to show up for what is supposed to be an adult taekwondo class and learn how to punch and kick with five other children, ranging from as young as 7 or 8 up to 14. I was the only adult, that is if you consider me one.

It feels good to be exercising again.

Virgina Rojas. I have already wrote a blog post about her (the one before this). She came, she stuffed knowledge/information/ideas/lesson plans/strategies/ acronyms/smiles/vocabulary/and everything else into our brains, she left. We had a wrap up session yesterday after school where she gave us the opportunity to reflect on what we learned and talked about.  She gave us choices in how to reflect. One of these choices involved writing a song about our experience. Since we all know my amazing singing capability (and no, I have never heard anyone crack a joke about the irony of what my name means), I decided to turn my song into a poem instead.

This is for Gini…

You teach,

I learn,

You model, and then it’s my turn.

You sing a song, show me a picture, or a graph,

You know just what to say to make me laugh.

When I participate in class,

It can be Think-Pair-Share.

Which doesn’t make me nervous,

Because it is not my whole soul to bear.

Some words confuse me though,

They are mean! You want me to find the mean?

I mean, they mean…what does mean, mean?

Tier II words

Are nothing to cry about,

because you taught me it’s not that kind of tear.

You gave choices,

Because we all have different voices.

I learn because I do,

What you do…

You teach,

I learn,

You model…

and then it’s my turn.

I read this in front of the entire faculty, and no one threw any food at me, even though we were in the cafeteria! score…they were kind. We laughed. I love my job.

The best part was when it was over, Gini came up behind me and gave me a soft kiss on the head saying, “Thank You.”

“bear”feet

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Instead of starting my Monday off teaching all the wisdom I have to offer (which I used to think was so, so much), I sat in class….learning? And today, as the roles were reversed, I sat as a student realizing how much I still need to learn. Teaching at a school where 90% of the student population are ELLs (English Langauge Learners…meaning their mother tongue is NOT English) is TOUGH.

Virginia Rojas (love you Gini!) swooped in and left our (the entire staff of APIS) heads spinning. After eight hours of learning, practicing, sharing, and learning some more I rushed downstairs to tweak my lesson plans for this week. I am a big fan of implementing. And truth be told a lot of us sat there thinking, “wow, we are doing NONE of that.”

Conviction.

To show Gini how cool we could be outside of school we (uh, that being APIS picked up the tab…saweeeet!) took her out to an all you can eat seafood buffet. During dinner the conversation turned to what, as teachers, we like to talk about most. CHILDREN.

One of my co-workers shared a most delightful story. His son had taken his shoes off in the car during a recent trip to the grocery store. “You have to put your shoes back on! You can’t go into the store with bare feet.” His mom told him. “But mom! I have kid-feet!” The boy replied.

As the table roared with laughter we realized that today in our workshop Virginia Rojas talked about Tier II words (you’d have to be there), words with multiple meanings. The example she gave involved her visiting a math class and how the teacher was instructing a pair of EALs (so many acronyms, EAL is now replacing ESL, English as a Second Language, to English as an Additional Language) to fill in the table. As the students kept picking up their paper and setting it back down on the table they were sitting at (trying to put the paper ‘in’ the table), they looked at him in a confused state. He just kept repeating, “the table, fill in the table!” The students were focused on the table they were sitting at while the teacher was inquiring them to fill out a math table. The same word, completely different meanings.

Just as my co-worker’s son thought his mom said “bear feet ” not knowing the meaning of “bare feet.”

I was going to put up a picture of my school for your visual viewing when my lovely friend/co-worker/soon-to-be-roommate stated, “Isn’t that dangerous in case you have a stalker?”

I would have a stalker.

No picture for this post.

before it was even nine a.m.

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“You need a comma there,” I told my student who had copied down the morning work incorrectly.

“In my world you don’t!” Was my student’s quick reply.

Every morning my students write me a short letter. Today I read: “Dear Miss Welton, I hope you merry soon.”

I laughed and told her the correct way to spell “marry”.

A phrase to get the kids attention: “eyes on me” and then they say “eyes on you” and all the students are supposed to look at the teacher. I did this and then said, “I don’t have everyone’s eyes,” when I noticed a couple of students not looking at me. One student replied, “Ms. Welton you want our eyes?!” and then made the motion to pluck them out.

I am starting back up with taekwondo today, after a couples months off due to vacation and grad school starting… I am putting it up here to hold me accountable. I don’t want to go back, but that black belt is calling my name!