Slipping under the radar

March 4, 2006

I’ve been slipping under the radar the last week or so. I’ve been busy with work related stuff, got sick again, feeling a little lost and sorry for myself generally. I’ve been thinking of getting another job- again. It’s not serious, but usually it takes till second term for me to want to throw in the towel. There’s been a lot of stuff going on at work, student wise, staff wise, extra curriculum wise. It’s getting to mid term assessment, which is always fun- but something happened yesterday that made me wonder what on earth are we doing.

I have a Year 8 student who is a Sudanese refugee. Lovely kid: sweet and quiet, gorgeous too- the clearest of skin and eyes and smile that light up a room. There is something about her that fascinates me- there’s stories deep in there. Things that I should know about the world that she has experienced. However, there is an obstacle there. While her spoken English skills are quite good, her reading and writing are very limited. To be expected when you have missed out on the formative years of schooling due to being displaced in your own country. Just surviving is a matter of priority over everything else. Recently there’s also been family dramas, so she’s not currently living at home.
She’s been in Australia two years and been to several schools- clearly not helping her develop those skills. I work with her as much as I can in class, but it’s hard. She needs constant support- which is hard to do with 24 other students in the room, many of whom want or need your attention as well.
In SOSE we’ve been teaching about human rights using stories of young people who have had their rights taken away, child soldiers of Sierra Leone, the child brides of Nigeria who often die in childbirth before their 16th birthday, and child labourers of South East Asia. Some of these stories seem to unsettle this student, but when I talk to her she say she’s ok. I’m sure there’s little in there that she has not seen, or does not surprise her about human nature.

Yesterday we tested the kids on it, some general knowledge and short answer responses to three scenarios. It wasn’t too easy, one student was finished in a quarter of the hour we had allotted, but when you can hardly read the information and form a written answer, it must seem difficult. Being an exam and to seem fair to the other students, I didn’t offer a lot of support, but did tell her she only needed to answer the questions to one story.
Part way through the exam – her friend left to go to the sick room (“nausea”, she said, but I think it was brought on by nerves). Not too soon after, I find this girl staring into space. I ask how she is going and she starts to make this hiccuping noise, gulping for air. She’s not ok. She says she feels sick in the stomach, but the welling tears in her eyes tell me something else. She hiccups again and puts her head on the desk. I feel like the worst human in the world, definitely the worst teacher. I put my hand on her braided hair for a moment, reassuring her, silently apologising- there’s nothing else I can do.
I call up the most sympathetic, sensible student I can find and ask her to take this girl to the sick room. I also give her some tissues and say she may want a drink on the way. “Let her take her time.
What are we testing her on that she doesn’t already know? That the world is an awful place and we should do what we can to stop it. That bad things happen to nice people. That a child’s innocence doesn’t always guarantee their protection. It seems melodramatic, but really what am I assessing. She knows more than I would ever want to know.

Posted in Education, Life, Work