The gauntlet has been thrown

After three morning classes on Monday and Tuesday, I was feeling very confident. Everything had gone surprisingly smoothly and I felt like I´d begun establishing good rapport in my classes. Then came (( insert dramatic dramatic pause)) the night classes!

My first night class started at 7, and many of the students were were older than me and had obviously come straight from work. They were very quiet and one in particular was giving me a look that I feared meant "this is SO fome (foe-may, Chilean for boring)". I took a split second to regroup and remind myself not to take it personally that they weren´t very energetic, and to just go ahead with my plan. When we did the first activity that required standing up, the student who´d been giving me the look shot me a pleading glance and said he was so tired. He proceded to be one of my best participators. Yay for not taking it personally. Pat self on back.

Then after class, another student came to me and explained (in Spanish AND I understood!!) that he had another class booked for the same time. He asked if I taught any other sections because he really wanted to be in one of my classes. Yay for not taking it personally. Pat self again.

After that interaction, I was flying high and feeling fantastic. I got this teaching thing down.

And then I met my fifth and last class. Oh boy.

In the far back corner was a couple draped all over each other. Needless to say, I was unprepared for students to act like they are in a dark movie theater while in class. And in the other corner was a group of friends with the collective attention span of a hyperactive gnat. The whole time, I struggled to quiet them down enough to talk and enough to hear the ones who were actually trying to learn. It was awful.

I was flustered and didn´t manage time as well as I had in my other classes, so I ended up with 15 minutes left to go and nothing left to do. I also had nothing left to give, so I dismissed class. One of the students who´d been actively engaged was surprised and asked kind of sadly if that was all. I felt so guilty.

I fought back tears on my walk to the metro. One of the students was walking near me and struck up conversation. I thought, any other night I would be so happy to practice Spanish, but not now. Please not now. I got home without breaking down, but my host dad had waited up for me (he´s so sweet!) and wanted to hear why I was upset, then console me and give me advice. I was exhasted and crying and my nose was running and the last thing I wanted to do was speak Spanish. Sigh.

But today was a new day and my classes went well again. I feel like that second class last night threw down the gauntlet and that I´m gearing up for the duel. I refuse to let the few bad ones derail me. Regardless of how it makes me feel, it´s just not fair to the students who are eager to learn. They are like me, and they are why I´m here.