Timor teaching

At least once a year I travel to Dili to train teachers there. I've been doing this now for about four years. I originally went with a whole other bunch of Sydney-based musicians, as part of an overly-ambitious project that didn't really work. Then I was asked back to see if I could create a classroom music curriculum, with four different parts to it.

I needed to create an early childhood programme, an infants music programme, a primary music programme, and a set of lesson that could be taught by any teacher (musical or not), for young children that required no musical instruments - just music lessons with body percussion and singing. All of this needed to be in Tetun - the Timorese mother tongue. Te lessons, the children's songs, the lot. (As an aside - I don't speak this language. Well, now I can get by in it - I can order food, and direct taxi drivers - but when I started it was completely unknown.) I had a team of young teachers to train. When I say teachers, they had no teaching qualifications. They were eager to learn, though.

There have been many times walking this road where I thought I couldn't do it. Where things were too different. Too hard. One visit, when I realised that nothing I had taught for two years was being used, I was ready to throw in the towel. I remember sitting in a tiny little room with every part of me sweating and the horrible realisation that I was going about things completely the wrong way. I didn't know what to do. Cry? Shout? Give up?

People who know me know that I am pretty determined. I will have my way - either by hard work, careful manipulation or persuasive arguing (well, I like to think of it as persuasive. Some uncharitable people might call it bullying - but I don't think so.). I was also aware that I had been paid to do a job - and I hadn't done it.

My mother was a teacher. She was a superb teacher. I never sat in one of her classes, as a girl, but I heard things from friends of mine who were taught by her. And a few times I spied on her teaching classes. For the next two days, I kept thinking 'What would my mother have done?'

So I set about doing my job differently. It was a huge learning curve for me, the next 48 hours. I wrote lesson structures, I created rules, I tried to second-guess how these young teachers would best learn. I tried to understand the Timorese way of thinking, and adapt my teaching to it - rather than just presuming that they would come round to my way of thinking. I have never been so focused in my imparting of knowledge. Never been so specific in what to do. I felt like some kind of educational dictator. But these kids (I say kids, but they are all in their 20's. Not really kids. But a fair bit younger than me.) would have to be on their own once I left, with a bit of support, but not a great deal. Not only did they have to know their material, but they had to know how to put it together to create a lesson. They had to exude confidence. They had to teach huge class groups, in really tough situations.

After I came back to Sydney, it took me about 3 weeks to recover. To piece myself back together. I felt like a wet rag.

And then the lesson plans started coming in to me (one of the reporting structures I'd set up - I was trying to keep an eye on them from a distance). They were doing what I'd asked! It was possibly working.

I've been back a number of time since then, to see what is going on (and give them more material) - and they are doing it. These kids are delivering well-crafted lessons, with age-relevant material. The kids (up to 50 in a class) are engaged. They are learning stuff. My teachers are becoming more confident. They have good classroom management skills. They are smiling as they teach. And other visitors report back to me, with the same sort of news.

The reason I am writing this today is I got a package of stuff from them yesterday, containing news from them, and lesson plans. They are teaching kids from K-4. They have groups of 40-50. They are training other teachers. And it's all working!

I couldn't be more proud of them. I give them all gold stars.

A rant.

I haven't written anything for a while - life has been pretty busy, what with starting off all the teaching programmes for the year, training a new teacher to help me at one of the schools, travelling to rural NSW for a stint teaching there and doing a few concerts with one of my favourite Aussie cellists.

But now I find myself back in Sydney having the same conversation to a number of people, so I'm hoping if I write it here, it'll be done - and I won't bore anyone with it any more (all my friends breathe a sigh of relief).

I have to deal with a number of parents of children in my teaching job. I also work with a fair whack of teachers. Nearly every teacher I work with I would defend without question. I have found these people to be fair, hugely overworked yet still cheerful, really good at dealing with large groups of children, able to assess abilities of their little charges and just generally excellent people. (Given a choice, I would hang out with a bunch of teachers over a bunch of IT guys/ stock brokers/ insert profession here any day. Sure, there will be a few moments of organisation, and a bit of shop talk, but on the whole, these are pretty amazing people. Unsung heroes in my books.)

The parents I have to deal with are my age, or a bit older. Gen X, and then whatever the generation is just before that. And we are letting our kids down. Here's a few thoughts from me. I know I don't have kids. And I know it's really dangerous territory to criticise someones parenting - I have lost friends before, doing that. But I think that sometimes these things need to be said.

Here goes......

What you, as a parent, see at home, is not always what you see in the classroom. Your little Braydon/ Tarquin / insert name here may be quite different in a group of 25. S/he may not deal with being one of many, and so behaviours that you as a parent think are so important at home may not be so valued as a group in the classroom. Most people, when they grow up, are going to have to work as part of a group or team - so this is a valuable skill to have as a little person.

Your child is probably not talented or gifted. And that is completely OK. It's pretty easy to spot that, as a teacher. It's also really easy to spot bright kids. And being bright does not make your child talented and gifted. And what's wrong with just being of medium ability? Teachers do not like children because they are bright. They like kids who have personality, good manners, and a bit of spark. It makes not a jot of difference to the people teaching your offspring if they are bright or not. If your school/ teacher does not say that your child is talented do not go up there demanding tests, or asking for special treatment. Quite frankly, it will make things more difficult for your child.

If a teacher tells off your kid for doing something accept it. They are not perfect people. They may not have done their homework. Or their violin practise. Or they may have been revolting in a group. It is not because they are bored/ overlooked/ hard-done-by/ disliked. They have simply done the wrong thing. Teachers do not harbour grudges towards little people - that's part of their job. LET YOUR KIDS ACCEPT THEY DO WRONG STUFF. Do NOT fight their battles. You will not always be there. How will they develop any kind of coping strategies or social niceties if you are always there, fighting on their behalf. Do not believe every word that comes out of their mouth. Kids learn from an early age to manipulate situations. If I had gone home as a child and told my mother I got told off by a teacher, she would have probably told me I deserved it (not quite that harshly, but you get my drift). She would not have gone marching up to the school, demanding answers. Or told me I was in the right.

We are breeding little monsters here. Kids answer back to teachers. They think they are always in the right. The have real trouble coping with failure and the word 'no'. If they haven't been picked for the zone sports team, so be it. They just weren't good enough. If they've been told to practise more, then that's because they aren't reaching their potential, and need a bit of help from you, or a bit more inner drive. If they've been told off, they deserved it.

Just because you have been to school does not make you a teacher.

Let your kids make their mistakes. Let them fail. Let them be told off. Let them deal with disappointment. Let them be mediocre. They will have to deal with  this later in life, when you are not there, bellowing on their behalf. Let their teachers do their jobs. They know what they are doing. Accept how your child is perceived by others.

There. I've said it all now.