I have just finished up my fourth day of student teaching at Downview Primary School. British kids are so freakin' adorable. Especially the really little ones. They also have the best manners. Well, especially compared to American kids, as a whole. Of course, many of them still act out and misbehave from time to time, but they listen quite a bit better. Or so it would seem. Perhaps it is just their endearing British accents. All I know is, today a five year old made his introduction with me and I just melted. I am currently, and possibly most of the time, going to be working with one of the "Year 4" classes (the U.S. equivalent of third grade). The kids in my class are great, and I am so proud of myself because I have almost learned all of their names already! I haven't really done much teaching per se, but yesterday I did get to help out with Year 3 art. They were making aboriginal dot paintings and I was very impressed by how excellent some of them turned out. The sad part of my day was before we started painting, I got to tell the students a little about America and Wisconsin, and then they were allowed to ask me questions. Well that wasn't the sad part, that was kind of fun. Some of them wanted to know what kind of animals there are in WI, and I realized it's quite similar to the wildlife here but with different species. That's also not the sad part. One little boy raised his hand and asked me, "Why are there so many gun noises in America?" I think I panicked because I can't really remember what I responded with, other than mumbling something about the popularity of deer-hunting in Wisconsin. And then I realized that these kids were more or less the exact same age as the 26 killed in Newtown, CT. I heard they are naming a new school after Victoria Soto and it makes me very happy to know that she will be honored. I do hope those gun laws get passed.
On a lighter note, maybe, another student later asked me, "Why do Americans know everything?" From the previous storyline, it's quite obvious that we don't.
*The title of this blog post is brought to you by the very sassy 8-year old who has all week relentlessly made fun of how I pronounce tomato.
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