This past winter, Julie and I both signed up to teach summer school. Being a nurse rather than a teacher, it took Julie a little while to agree to take on the responsiblity of teaching a summer school class. But, in the end, she found my powers of persuasion too much to resist (hence, why we are even in Asia in the first place). I promised that we would do it together and I would be with her every step of the way. With all that homeschooling expereince, I knew that she would do great. Besides, she was going to be working with first graders. How hard could it be, right?Shortly after we both signed on to teach summer school, I was approached by the director of the program and asked if I was interested in being the assistant director which meant that I would not be in the classroom. To summarize: the nurse was going to be teaching and the teacher was not. Did I mention that this whole summer school thing was my idea?
It took me almost a month to work up the courage to confess to Julie that I would not be teaching. My trepidation was not ill-placed. She was none too happy with me. She claimed that while she was busy running a classroom full of little ones, I was going to be sauntering down the halls with my morning cappuccino in hand glancing into classrooms windows.
Nothing could be futher from the truth.
I don't drink cappuccino. I prefer lattes.
Julie taught writing to five and six year olds. She had five classes which were 35 minutes each. On average, she had 24 students per class and she had two teaching aides in the classroom with her.
She did a great job.
And her husband was with her every step of the way.
Granted, he was holding a latte in one hand the whole time.
-Jack
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