So, today is kind of bittersweet, eh?

Yes.  It has been and continues to be a bittersweet day.  My students are currently taking their final.  I look out at them, hunched over their papers, scribbling with fervor.  In all honesty, the exam is relatively easy.  But, I wanted it that way, because I pushed and challenged them all term (as well as gave them a final paper and a presentation due Wednesday).  So, the exam is just the final hoop that assures me that, yes, they are ready to continue on to level 4.


I look at them now with completely different eyes than those through which I saw them the first day they walked into my classroom.  They meandered in and sat together like old time friends, chatting and bantering while I stood there at the board wondering how the heck I was going to pull this off.  A lone gringa in a room with Ecuadorian students who'd spent their entire lives making memories and connections.  What the hell had I gotten myself into....??  Yes, at that moment they were just beings which intimidated me.  Beings with potential of which I had no idea...and quite frankly, I was scared shitless.


I remember those first two minutes as I stood before them having NO clue if I could even pull this teaching thing off.  As they introduced themselves I followed along, reading their names from little nametags I'd had them make.  My heart was pounding, but then after a few minutes, it all fell into place.  Just like it always does...


Eight weeks later, here we are....a real, live class.  We have inside jokes and nicknames.  I know about their families, I know where they work.  I know their quirks, their talents, a bit of their life history.  They know I'm from Kansas and have been studying Spanish for 8 years. They know I have three big brothers and that I live far from mi "Mami" y "Papi."  They know I've lived in Spain and Costa Rica.  They know that I am a "cray-see tee-chair!" (crazy teacher).  They know I have high expectations but that am always willing to help.  They know I am temporary but they make me feel permanent.


As they finish writing their final answers, I reflect.  Any angst I had about their odd-duck work ethic (or lack thereof) doesn't much matter.  What matters now is that we laughed, we learned--from each other, from our mistakes--we grew, we evolved, and at the end of the day....we made it.   We succeeded, we conquered.  


Eight weeks later, I am a REAL teacher.  They are REAL English speakers.  WE are a class.  And, for that, I am so proud and so honored to have been part of the evolution of such a fantastic group of people.  Myself included...