Middle School Madness

Before I begin with the latest batch of Ligerisms from the kids, I want to send out a big Happy Birthday to my lovely mother-in-law, Barbara Gubb, who has always been among my most loyal blog followers and appreciators. Since we can't be there to make a fruit salad and have dinner with you, I dedicate this blog post to you. I hope you have an amazing day! xxoo

If you know me, you know that I have always loved babies and that I have only ever wanted to teach the youngest kids wherever I was. When I was a camp counselor at the YMCA in Buffalo, and later on at Nobles, I was with the "ones," or the rising first graders. This meant I had to sunscreen up to thirty tiny bodies twice a day, take hundreds of parent calls and worry too much about food allergies; it was worth it.

I studied Early Childhood Education, a major which has since been discontinued because it was seen as too narrow a focus. (It was perfect for me.) My student teaching was in K, first and second grades, and my first real job was in a kindergarten classroom. That year we dealt with one kid smashing another over the head with a block, multiple incidents when the room needed to be cleared because of a student meltdown, a case of lice, and another student falling from the top of the play loft. I freaking loved it. I mean, c'mon! We also got to hatch baby chicks and visit a donut factory!

Before starting at Liger, my oldest students were third graders. And these were kids I had also had as second graders. So, when I came to Liger with the promise of teaching 8 and 9 year olds, and found out there was actually a mixture of 9 and 10-almost-11-year-olds, I was a little bit grumpy. How many eight-year-olds did Liger have that first year?? Only THREE! I consoled myself with the fact that they all had the English skill level of much younger children, and for the most part, were much smaller physically than their husky American counterparts. I managed.

**To be clear -- I was eager for my students to be happy, healthy, smart and linguistically proficient. I would never intentionally starve students of food or knowledge, simply to conform them to my preferred parameters.**

I know this has been a heart-rending read so far -- the trials and tribulations of someone who can't handle students over the age of six. What a lot in life. But, I am here today to tell you that so far, against all odds, I have survived the first two months of the Liger students transitioning to middle school. This post shall be the start of my memoir, the working title of which is: The Long, Sweaty Road: One Teacher's Experience with Flirtation, Body Odor and Four Thousand WHYs.

Currently, our oldest student has just turned fourteen, while our youngest is not even twelve. Quite the range. Some of our boys are skinny, baby-faced little things, with piercingly high voices that echo through the halls, while others are almost taller than me, with deep voices and the beginnings of facial hair. (Jeff would tell you a few of them actually have real facial hair, but I refuse to accept that). Let's just say its a pretty mixed bag.

If this had been year one, and we said be silly, they would've been silly. Note the composure now....

This year the students moved from mixed-gender housing to single-sex, which I think has been a big relief for all involved. Next year, with the introduction of the second cohort, our older students will move to an entirely new section of campus, and will be responsible for cooking their own dinners. In the meantime, they have really grown up, becoming incredibly aware of the opposite sex. Take this conversation for example:

Female Student: Carooohhh, Male Student won't stop following me!
Me: Well, maybe he thinks you're pretty...
Female Student (running away): CAROOOOOHHHH!! NOOOO!!!
Male Student (totally oblivious): What did you say?
Me: She said you were following her and I said maybe its because you think she's pretty.
Male Student (smiling slyly): Nope. Someone else thinks she's pretty already, so I can't think she's pretty...cuz, you know...

Teaching Literacy, I didn't think I would run into so many situations that are embarrassing or funny for the kids. Turns out I was wrong. Teaching the definition of the verb to peck, for example: they were very forthcoming with the bird-related meaning, but NO ONE volunteered to define the kissing version until an entire table of girls ventured into this tricky territory together, with voices barely above whispers. I tried to neutralize it, by giving a "peck on the cheek" example, but even that was met with giggles. I was just glad we didn't get into "was pecking...he pecked me..." Maybe next year.

On a vocab quiz, I instructed the students to write a sentence using the word glance. Three of my boys wrote about glancing at cute girls -- in the market, at school, it didn't matter. They then, quite unabashedly, raised their hands to share their answers when we were going over the quiz in class. Ladies, take note.

The students are also incredibly immersed in American pop culture these days. They have always loved music, and have known most popular songs since they got their computers, but recently it has invaded the classroom. When asked for the meaning of a bay (body of water), I had one girl write "the name you call your boyfriend or girlfriend." I had a male student ask me, very innocently, if I wore Apple Bottom jeans. When asked about the plot of his guided reading book, and who the most popular boy was (in the book), another student responded with "Justin Beiber." As their reading levels progress and the type of book they are interested in changes, I have had to provide definitions for such shocking words as "jockstrap" and "mooning people." I actually get a kick out of describing these words, but the best is when only one kid in the group knows it and is trying to get his/her peers to understand the meaning without saying anything embarrassing. Good luck.

On the other end of the spectrum, these kids are still such sweethearts. They are still pretty sheltered in some regards, especially when it comes to dating or sex. Kissing is not prevalent in Khmer culture. In speaking with my male colleagues about whether they kiss their wives goodbye in the morning before work, they literally laughed in my face. Absolutely not, it just would never happen. Another colleague told me she has never, in all her life, witnessed her parents kiss. She is in her early 30s. As a result, our kids still giggle, and many of them cover their eyes, if they are watching a movie with a kissing scene.

Another example of their innocence is when I asked one of my male students where he was going that day, as I had received an email that he and a female student would be missing class that day. He said, trying to be cryptic, that they were going to get their "two balls checked," and pointed to his eyes, just a little too late. This is in front of about 12 other students. No one batted an eye. I had to keep from snorting myself. If that had happened in an American 7th grade classroom, forget it.

Besides all the laughs, the thing I have appreciated the most about working with this age group so far is their ability to take control over their own lives, finally seeing themselves as a part of something bigger. I will leave you with one really inspiring conversation I had with one of my middle schoolers (gag).

This is a girl who did not really stand out the first year. She remained in the middle of the pack in year two, and it was not until last year that she really started to gain a place at the top, due almost entirely to her passion for reading and subsequently developed reading and writing skills. She is part of my two-woman fiction writing team, and has astounded me with her natural writing ability. This week, I took her aside and told her how amazed I was with her product so far, and said that she could definitely go to university if that was what she wanted to do. I told her, rather emotionally, that she was a gifted, hardworking writer and she should believe in herself. She sort of looked down at me (she's among our tallest students as well) and was like..."yeah, I know, that's my plan."

She went on to say, very plainly, that she intended to go to university (not sure where yet) and study psychology. She then wants to get a job where she can make a lot of money (she is thinking pharmacy-related) over a short period of time, and then invest in a 5-star hotel. She plans to eventually own one and live in the penthouse ("Caro, do you know what a penthouse is?"). This is a kid from a province two hours from the city who did not speak a word of English when she got here. She had only been to Phnom Penh a handful of times before arriving for her first day at Liger. Within three years she has become an amazing, self-confident, independently driven young woman. It's been pretty cool to watch it all go down.

Also, Kate (sister) and Ty (brother-in-law) had their baby, and she's the best thing ever. Forget everything I wrote above and just remember Cara Isabel Barns' perfectly squishy face...


 

A Series of Unfortunate Events

It seems like the greater forces of the country of Cambodia read my last blog post. They sensed that I was growing overly satisfied with my grasp of the country and its unique flaws. These forces conspired to rip me out of my peaceful, storybook existence and plunge me into the depths of the worst it has to offer. Okay, perhaps I am being overly dramatic, but I shall allow you to decide that for yourself.

On Friday, as usual, Jeff and I headed out to Sharpey Shack, our local floating shack at the end of our road. It belongs to Dom, but has been adopted by all of us. Since the second year, our staff has gone there just about every Friday afternoon for a few beers, to take in the sunset and exchange stories about the week. We decompress and come together for a couple hours, because during most of the week, we move in parallel lines, barely getting the time to talk. Sharpey's has become a very special place for us -- in fact, at our wedding, we had four specially themed tables, representing four of the most important and formative places in our life: Sharpey Shack was one of them. My friend Caitlin handmade gorgeous needlepoint images of each place; below is the one for the Shack. You can ask anyone who has been there, it's spot on.

Okay, we had a few cocktails at the wedding.

Needless to say, Sharpey Shack has never let me down. Sure, it's old and rusty and creaky. The bridge is often perilous to walk across. Depending on the level of the river and how far away it is from the shore, we might have to walk through some garbage to get there...but really, it's a special place. (Aren't I selling it well?) Anyway, it's one of my happy places. However, on this particular Friday, as I sat on a chair overlooking the river, chatting casually with two of our new staff members, Jan and Karen, I noticed a quick movement out of the corner of my left eye. Upon further inspection, I saw that there was a palm-sized, brown spider on one of the metal roof supports. It was just inches from Richard, another new staff member. Richard happens to have quite the large beard, and I could immediately sense that our spidey friend (enemy) was itching to bury its disgusting, octo-legged body into that thick mass of hair. So, I screeched, and pointed it out to Karen, who used to be an Alaskan park ranger, and she offered to switch chairs with me. She's a keeper. Richard did not seem particularly alarmed; he actually stayed in exactly the same place. Neither did Karen, who met her husband while he was being chased by a three-legged bear -- Jan was running, she was laughing. So I don't think this spider business was the worst she's seen. Karen promised to keep an eye on it for me, because obviously the spider you see and then lose track of is ten times worse than the spider you can watch from a distance.

My pulse had quickened, and my heart had picked up (are those two things the same...? I never know..), but I was okay. Although Karen had promised to babysit Spidey, I wasn't taking any chances. I stared at that thing as the sun went down and it got a little darker. I tried to keep up a conversation, but I am pretty sure I wasn't making any sense. I was distracted. A few minutes later, a bat flew through the Shack, whipping past my head. No problem. I actually like bats -- they eat mosquitos and never stick around for long. I was hoping he had come along to eat Spidey, but alas, the thing was still perched in the same position. I heard Jan say "Damn, did you see that bat," and I agreed that I had. But wait...did he say bat? I eyed Jan, who is incredibly laid back and an eternal optimist, just to confirm that he had, indeed, meant to say bat. Because it sounded suspiciously like he had said rat. He smiled and said...wait for it..."yeah, rat." That couldn't be right. Matt assured me he was joking. I drew my knees up onto my chair, just in case, and pacified myself with the thought that there couldn't be a rat on Sharpey's because rats can't swim and we were floating, so it would have had to use the bridge, but rats aren't smart enough for that, and why would it want to be around people in such a small space, etc.

Right around this time, Spidey flexed a leg at me, and gave me an evil smile that it was too dark to see. So yeah, it was really dark at this point. My heart was picking up a pretty good pace and I was remembering that Jeff never did that whole "carry his bride across the threshold" thing and that perhaps this would be the time to invoke that right. He could just pick me up and carry me right off the Shack, not letting me touch the ground until we were back home. Good plan.

Just as I started to explain said plan to my husband, a huge, brown, skinny-tailed rat ran between my chair and Karen's and I absolutely lost my shit. I think I temporarily blacked out, because all I can remember thinking is: "is it dark enough that people aren't going to see that I just burst into tears over a rat?" and "why isn't everyone else screaming and jumping onto a chair?"

This is not a drill, people. This is my real life.

The rat ran around everyone on the Shack, probably bearing its fangs and sharpening its claws as it went, before disappearing into the edges of darkness near the bar. I found that I had pretty much jumped into Matt's lap and was choking down panic. Now, let me interrupt myself here for a quick second to explain that I am currently about 700 pages into Shantaram, a 900-page novel about India that has absorbed me so completely that it takes all of my willpower to not think and talk about it exclusively. It has, without a doubt, taken first place as the best book I have ever read. In the book, the main character is living in an Indian slum that houses over 25,000 people, and is coming home late one night with his girlfriend, by means of a pitch black alleyway. Big mistake. They hear something, and before they can react, they are pushed flat against the wall, unable to move or make a sound, as a cascade of thousands of cat-sized rats roll through on their nightly excursion from one sewer exit to another sewer's entrance. Apparently everyone in the slum knows about this and knows to stay inside their houses when it happens. Now, to be clear, this book is insane. It details everything from war to torture, imprisonment to dog fights. There is a scene with a bear. Lots of awful enslavement of people in brothels, poverty, prisons and other atrocious circumstances. I don't know what this says about me, but I want to be honest here: the scene with the rats was almost more than I could bear. It was the worst thing I read in that entire 700 pages. I was almost nauseated, imagining myself pressed up against a slum wall as swarms of chittering, slithering rats ran over my feet. If it were me, I would not have been able to stay still. I would have run and screamed and been eaten to death by rats -- the end.

That night, when we got home from the Shack, I was sitting on the couch next to Jeff, looking at wedding pictures, still feeling pretty jumpy. I reached for my water bottle when a dust clod fell from the ceiling and got picked up by the fans in the room. I screamed. I was ashamed, and Jeff immediately told me it was dust and to get over it, but let's just say I took half a sleeping pill that night.

Saturday occurred without incident.

Sunday morning, with 24 rodent-free hours on the books, I started to feel like maybe this was just a one time thing. I had paid my rat dues. I mean, I am no idiot, I know there are rats everywhere. I get that. I live in a huge city full of trash piles, and when it gets dark, the rats come out. Okay. I just don't want to see them or feel them or have to look at their ugly little faces and tiny, hideous paws, or know they exist. Too much to ask?

Anyway, it was about 7am, and I didn't have my contacts in, so I could only see about two feet in front of me, and I wandered into the bathroom. Without oversharing too much, I grabbed the toilet paper and out from the center of the roll jumped A MASSIVE SPIDER. Let me repeat that: I am at my most vulnerable, pretty much unable to see, and still in what I like to call "my sleep zone," and a freaking spider launched itself from inside of something that was IN MY HAND.

I then leapt out of the bathroom and screamed for Jeff. I will end the scene there, but let me assure you, justice was eventually achieved. And Jeff made me consolation French toast.

I remember being in high school English class and learning about "coming of age" and a "loss of innocence" and all that. I never knew what it meant until this weekend. That is all.

Now, to wash the taste of rats out of your mouth, here are some pictures of me and Jeff looking slamtastic at our wedding.

Paul, Josh, Liam, Michael, David -- Kate, Claire, Lindsay, Bridget and Cara

Griff, Tom, Mom, Granny, Dad, Liz, Ben, Tyler, Kate -- Barbara, Ashley, Ben Fox, Michael, David and Bob

Freshly Sharpened Pencils

Unfiltered panoramic sunset off Sharpey Shack last Friday

Aaaaand, we're right back into it.

Less than two full weeks back with the kids and it already feels like we never left. We spent the first two days rolling out our new curriculum: Independent Discoveries, Make-Your-Own-Explorations and Expertise, but there was no easing back in -- more than half of our students would be in grades 8 or 9 if they were returning to government school, so high school is upon us. Not literally (thank God), because some of their skills are still not quite up to par, but their inventiveness and work ethic kick most high schoolers' butts, so I guess we meet somewhere in the middle.

Independent Discoveries are essentially individual research projects. What do you want to know more about? Propose an idea, we will facilitate you and, if possible, connect you with a mentor. You do the rest. You have seven weeks to produce something that is portfolio-worthy, and a presentation of some sort will be made to your peers. We had almost 40 out of 50 students propose an idea, although it was not required and they only had a day to think about it. Some ideas include building a hovercraft, researching the history of Cambodian architecture, inventing a new sport, learning about birds, and becoming an expert in Adobe Muse. I don't even know what that last one is...

We have had Explorations for the past two years now, check my last entry if you don't know what they are, so we thought it was about time we turned it over to the kids. Out of the five Exploration blocks, two will be entirely student-run. They propose their idea, gather their team and write their plan. We will be there to facilitate, but they will run the show. Some of the best ideas include an interior design team that wants to learn about and then design some of the many new spaces that are being built on campus; starting a mobile library movement in Cambodia (you have all seen the little wooden bird-house "take one, give one" libraries around the U.S.?); a Robotics team that wants to send itself back to Singapore (for a third time), to compete in the high school category, while including a few students who have never been; and, a creative writing duo who hope to write fictional short stories that teach kids values like integrity and determination.

Expertise was a hell of a puzzle scheduling-wise, but is turning into a great idea. It links with our Explorations and front-loads the skills the kids will need. For example, if your Exploration is visiting the Bunong people to learn about their culture and background, culminating in a photo book, you need a class on photography. If your Exploration seeks to find old Khmer music that was lost during the Khmer Rouge and record it, you need an Expertise course on audio engineering and podcasting. The other category of Expertise aims to expand the students' frame of reference, mainly through current events and video presentations. In the first two weeks, I have introduced seven students to the Cecil the Lion controversy, and helped them get their feet under them when it comes to the meaning of "transgender."

Unsurprisingly, our little Ligers have risen to the new freedom and responsibility with open minds and incredible questions. In the Cecil the Lion debate, I had one student stick to her guns (pun intended), arguing that if someone wanted to pay $50,000 to shoot a lion, they were allowed to without consequence, that it was "just business." She was outraged that the African guides were not the ones getting into more trouble. The other kids shot her some serious shade (no pun intended), but backed down when we read about the connection between conservation and big game hunting. Watching their perspective shift and widen when I introduced the Zimbabwean point of view was probably the best thing I've witnessed so far this year.

Even today, when presenting the basics of what it means to be gay, lesbian and transgender, I trusted that they would be respectful, but had no idea how seamlessly they would ask questions and share their ideas. We talked about transitioning, identified challenges to coming out, talked about gay-marriage laws worldwide, including Southeast Asia, and I showed pictures of different people who are openly gay or transgender. Throughout, they shocked me with their maturity and excellent questions. What happens if you're gay and you like someone, but they aren't gay? What does coming out mean? How do you know you're gay? What if you're at a party and you tell someone you like them but they don't like you back, how would you feel? These are all questions that were posed by students to the group. They were so interested and had so much to say that we will be revisiting it next week, through the lens of gay marriage and citizenship, and openly gay athletes.

Besides having a great start to the school year, it has been so nice to be back in Cambodia. When we walked into one of our favorite restaurants the first Wednesday back, the Khmer bartender immediately saw me and started making my favorite drink. At the salon I frequent, the girl who usually takes care of me wasn't there, so the store manager stepped it -- talk about customer service. I was also shocked to see on their shelves the exact Clarins face wash that I use and usually have to buy at Bloomingdale's the day before I fly back. Another huge sign of progress is the insane amount of road construction on the main road that connects Liger's village to Phnom Penh. There are huge trucks out there widening and smoothing the road. Its going to be awesome and well worth it when its finished, but for now its just a huge dust cloud of potential.

These anecdotes may not resonate with you, but with me its like watching a little kid grow up. This city and the people in it are moving full speed ahead, responding to their growing economy, learning more about customer service and improving their infrastructure. I feel so connected that I take pride in their baby steps.

Also, now I never have to go to Bloomingdale's again...
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Below, the gems that were created after learning about idioms (literally and figuratively, of course). See if you can tell which one got lost in translation.

Tooting My Own Horn

What a year. What an unforgettable, tremendous, ground-breaking, affirming, challenging year.

I won't say "I don't want to brag, but...," because I do want to brag. I feel like we won the teaching lottery; we work at a school that is making dramatic change in the lives of students, their families, and ultimately the future of their country. We don't work "for" our administration, but with them. Exchanging ideas, fitting together, pushing each other, and getting shit done.

I won't say "that being said, there are many ups and downs." There are, certainly, to every job. But at the end of every day, the good so far outweighs the bad that there's simply no contest.

Here are just a few of the amazing things that happened during Liger's third year:

Number one: Explorations took off.
-Exploration is the name given to the lynchpin of the Liger curriculum. Invented by and advocated for by our fearless education director Mr. Jeff, Explorations are seven to nine week on-going projects with anywhere from six to seventeen students. The learning facilitators present the content and outline the major goals and then turn it over to the kids. Each is based around answering essential questions, creating links with the community and trying to solve a real world problem.

-This was the second year that Liger went all in on Explorations. Besides Math, Literacy and Khmer (their native language), Explorations rule the daily schedule. Last year we were still getting our feet under us in terms of balancing experiential learning (a week in the forest, three days in Singapore) with content (journalism, natural resource management, renewable energy). This year the Explorations exploded into boundary-pushing, expectation-exceeding, hands-on learning experiences. While I no longer run the Exploration portion of the curriculum, I want to share just three examples.

-Economics: After creating a relationship with the current Minister of Education, a gifted, forward-thinking leader, we learned that he (literally) wrote the book on the Cambodian economy. Wanting our students to have access to its facts, figures and predictions for the future, we quickly realized it was far beyond their current reading level. Road block? Nope. Opportunity! Jeff led a group of eight students in researching the Cambodian economy, breaking down the big ideas and interviewing participants in each major sector. All 50 students spent five days taking various trips to see the sectors up close, taking photographs and fact checking, pulling together to assist the authors. The final product: an economics book written for kids, by kids. And when I mean book, I do not mean your average fifth-grader's stapled, hand-drawn book report. I mean a precisely researched, incredibly organized, professionally laid out 150-pages in two languages, with charts, graphs, photos, citations, and soon, a foreword by the Minister himself. At our end of the year share, the Minister was overwhelmed by the quality of the finished product and gave his word that this book will make its way into every secondary classroom in the country. End scene.

-Water Safety: Six children drown every day in Cambodia. Our students adapted a water safety curriculum that has met with success in Africa, changing the scenarios, some of the strategies, and the cultural references/visuals to align with present-day Cambodia. After augmenting the content, they created their own swimming lesson plans and tried it out, teaching local kids how to swim in the Liger swimming pool.

-Programming: We were lucky enough to enlist the help of two WashU Computer Programming majors, Cory and Ali, to teach seventeen kids (mostly girls) the ins and outs of coding. In their own words, they were amazed by the kids' English, the ease with which they picked up the more complicated concepts, and their high-level problem-solving skills. By the end of the eight weeks, students had created their own video games, were coding online quizzes to help their friends study for my English final, and understood basic coding language.

To give you an idea of the other topics, take a look at the student-made invitation for our final share.

Number two: Technovation
-More than half the Liger girls opted to take on an additional opportunity this year, in the form of a weekend app development contest. Technovation seeks to inspire and educate girls and women in technology. Our students worked in small teams with the support of mentors to design an app. They started with a real world problem, invented an app that might help solve the problem, conducted market research, compiled their findings into a business proposal (including the reality of smart phone use in Cambodia), and learned how to code the actual app.

-One of our teams, Team Ligeek, earned third place out of 60+ teams from Australia, NZ, Europe and Asia. Their app, called ImEx (imports/exports) connects provincial farmers with big city buyers. It's essentially an online marketplace, which does not currently exist in Cambodia. Bear in mind this segment of the competition included girls up to age 18. See the video below for the big announcement!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKyBKC5kbU8&sns=fb

Number three: Recruitment
-At this point, over 12,000 students have been initially assessed for an incoming cohort of 50-60, and we have decided to take all of next school year to narrow them down. Instead of rushing, it makes the most sense to do things as thoroughly as possible. If this recruitment goes well, we hope it will be the last time we need to send our teams out for weeks at a time; instead, we might be able to hold more of an open call, and have recruits come to us. The first time around, we were searching for high-achieving students, but because the school hadn't been actualized (mission, curriculum, expectations, etc.), it was hard to know exactly what we were looking for. Now, with an updated assessment system based on our actual students existing within an actual curriculum, our second time around is much more precise. Our fantastic recruitment team is constantly tweaking and changing their methods based on experience in the field. Next year will be the last year with only 50 students on campus.

Number four: English
-Year one, we taught through translation. Year two, we did away with translation (to the chagrin of many), but still students struggled. Year three, English flourished at Liger. At this point, any of our students could be transplanted to the middle of Boston and would be able to handle the level of oral English demanded of any other child their age. There may be a few exceptions, but I would say more than 90% of our students have moved from conversational fluency to academic fluency. Of course there are many words they still don't know, but along with their growing interest in becoming excellent English speakers, their technology skills make it easy for them to figure out any unknown word. Idioms have become a new and fun focus, and I often field questions about what "off the hook" or "play it by ear" mean.

I could continue, but I think this paints a good picture of a lot of what we were up to this year. Next year already promises to give year three a run for its money: four new full-time overseas staff, a potential cross-continent trip, "student-choice/student-led" Explorations and the promise that no matter what day it is, at least one kid is off campus doing something cool.

To year three.

Liger Laughs and the Case for Another Year

So, without much ado, we have signed on for a fourth year. This place has charmed us, our jobs continue to fulfill us every single day, and the future is looking bright. It wasn't too difficult a decision to make, and it continues to feel like the right one as we approach the end of year three.

Recruitment for our second cohort (between 50-60 students ages 11 and 12) began in December, and thousands of students have already been tested. Our goal is to have our top 90-100 by May, and begin working more closely with them to identify the ones who will be accepted. With the impending arrival of new little humans, our operations team has purchased new land and is busy planning new dorms, new classroom spaces and all the other details that will allow for a seamless introduction. Meanwhile, our education team is prepping for the hiring of additional staff members (both overseas and Khmer) to teach these kids. The new kids won't actually move onto campus until the middle of next school year (Jan.), but even so, there's a lot left to do.

Our current kids continue to shock and amaze (sort of joking, sort of not) us with their ambition, increasing self-awareness, maturing humor, and breadth of knowledge. Our youngest is turning 11 in a few weeks and our oldest is 13 (could be 14, birth certificates here are suspect), so its a totally different ball game from when we first arrived. I have my doubts about my own ability to teach middle schoolers, both from a behavioral (sassy, hormonal) point of view and a curriculum point of view, but they are still very much within elementary reading and writing parameters, so I think I'll be okay.

In the meantime, I wanted to share a few anecdotes that I've kept track of over the past couple of months, simply because they made me happy, which is a big part of the reason why I love living here and working with these kids.
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-Sreynith, one of our most diligent students, was researching some unknown vocabulary in one of her guided reading books, a book about a witch named Winnie. She kept getting up, checking the dictionary, using her computer, and getting continually more frustrated, which almost never happens. When she finally came over for her reading group, she told me that she had found all the meanings for her new words, except one, but she really tried her best to no avail. The word? Pongberry. A made up witch fruit.

-I stayed home one day because I wasn't feeling well, and sent a quick email to the staff letting them know I was "home sick" for the day. Apparently this was unclear, because I got a response soon after from our Khmer social worker. She told me that she understood how I could be homesick, since I live so far away from my friends and family, but that everyone at Liger loves me and wants to help me feel better. She asked me if there was anything she could do to make me feel less alone...

-I was playing a game called Spot It with the kids, which involves circular cards with lots of little pictures on it. The goal is to "spot" a picture on the master card that matches one from your own card and yell the name faster than your opponents. There are probably 20 images in all: a spider web, a piece of cheese, an anchor, a four-leaf clover, a bull's eye, a question mark, etc. The English Language Learner part of the kids really came out during this game, as the spider web became "spider net," the bull's eye was reduced to "shooting," the light bulb was called "the thinking sign," and the cheese was repeatedly labeled "cookie thing."


-We had a visiting snake expert come and talk to the kids for one of our weekly "Inspirations." Afterwards, I was asking the kids how it went and if he gave an interesting presentation. When I asked what his name was, the kids all started giggling and told me "Leo." I was confused, and asked why they were laughing. Turns out "leo" is the pronunciation for the Khmer word for underwear...

-Some of our kids got the chicken pox earlier this year when they were home in their provinces. When we all came back together after the time off, Dom was talking about the chicken pox and how therefore, some of the kids were still at home. One of our students, Rathanak, turned to me with a seriously confused look on his face. His interpretation was that a chicken had PECKED them all, individually, and he was nervous about the ramifications of Cambodia's chickens turning violent.

-I was sitting in my classroom after school one day, and in walked one of our most garrulous and social girls. She was doing her work job, which is an assigned job related to cleaning/maintenance that the kids participate in weekly to bolster appreciation for this opportunity. She poked her head in and asked: "Can I broom your room?"

-During one of our Sharations, during which we invite community members, friends and other students to campus so our kids can present what they have been working on in their Explorations, I got a few minutes with one of our youngest students, Hongly. We were reflecting on the first year, and he told me that when he first started swimming lessons with JoJo, she would often say "Good Job!" while he swam. However, to his untrained ear, it sounded like "chobp," which is the Khmer word for wait or stop. Therefore, he would be swimming, would hear her say that, would stop mid-stroke, only to have her tell him to start going again.
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Here is the link to an article from The Guardian that we were featured in back in February: http://www.theguardian.com/teacher-network/2015/feb/11/schools-students-traditional-teaching

On a less prestigious, but more thrilling for the kids note, here is a link to the Facebook page of a famous Khmer-American singer, Laura Mam, who met some of our kids at the first-ever Cambodian Science Fair last weekend (no, our students aren't orphans): https://www.facebook.com/LauraMamMusic/photos/pb.384964581591952.-2207520000.1426778473./824589390962800/?type=1&theater

A Social ExchAYnge

This week I was running a spelling lesson on words containing AY. The spelling program I use has students match beginning sounds with the same ending sound to make real and nonsense words, which we then discuss as a group. For example, they pair the AY ending sound with all the beginning consonants to see which ones they think make a real word. Bay. Cay. Pay. May. Stray, etc. When we get to the collaborative part, students contribute their words, and if they can also define the word, they can add it to the spelling list. Often it turns into an all-out negotiation, because they want every word added to the list, even if I have to tell them what it means. This week, things got a little heated, or as I like to call it, "The Day I Became an Unknowing Animal Activist."

Student One: "What about spay?"
Me: "Spell it."
Student One: "S-P-A-Y."
Me: "Yes, spay is a word. What does it mean?"
Student One: "I don't know, can you give a hint?"
Me: "Does anyone else know what spay means? It has to do with dogs and cats."

(various shrugs, head bobs and murmurs)

Me: "Any ideas? Think about how many cats and dogs there are around Cambodia. In America, there are also lots of cats and dogs, but we don't want our cats and dogs wandering around the streets, so we do a special thing to make sure there are not hundreds of animals without a home."

Student Two (bravely, encircling her neck with her hands): "You mean like the thing on the neck?"
Me: "Oh, good! You're thinking along the right lines. That's called a collar, and yes, we do use those in the U.S. to keep our dogs safe, but it's not spaying. Anyone else?"
Student Three: "Like a food?"
Student Four: "Like to walk it?"
Student Five: "Something a house?"

Me (unwittingly falling into a trap): "Okay, we cannot add this word to the list to study, since none of you know it, but I will tell you what it means. In the U.S. and lots of other countries, the vets do a surgery on the dogs and cats so they can't have babies. That way, we can make sure there are not too many dogs and cats out there without anyone to take care of them."

(silence. abject horror spreading across faces. children literally pushing themselves physically farther away from me as if I just confessed to mutilating cats and dogs for fun in my spare time.)

Student One: "WHAT? NOoooo....!"
Me: "I mean, c'mon guys, think about all the sad, dirty dogs and cats on the streets in Phnom Penh! They have no one to feed them or give them a bath or play with them and the mom cats just keep having so many babies..."
Student One: "Yeah, but that's mean!"
Student Two: "And what if the mom dog is so smart and then...you don't let have the puppies and then...you don't get the smart baby dogs?!"

Me: "But guys, think about how scary it is when you're riding on the moto and a stray dog runs into the road!"
Student One: "But, you kill them!"
Me (quickly losing ground): "We don't kill them, we just make it so they can't have babies. It doesn't even hurt!"

Student One, leaving the room at the end of class (brings her face right up to mine, shakes her finger at me): "MEAN and NOT NICE! I don't like."

I tell this story because (a) it was one of the funnier social exchanges I have had with the kids recently, but also because (b) it serves to illustrate how far the kids have come in developing their own identities and opinions. If this had been two years ago, they probably would have absorbed the information with a straight face and not reacted at all, in a well-enforced bid (by government school and general Khmer culture) to be respectful. Being encouraged to speak up, voice their opinions and back it up with evidence is still new for them, but they are really starting to stand on their own two feet. We want them to be able to interpret their "gut feelings" about things being right or wrong and then move to action. We want them to be direct and clear about their feelings and beliefs, even if it makes them seem "outspoken" in their culture. I am happy to say we are well on our way, and with some kids, might even need to reign them in a little bit, haha.

Also, if you know me, you know I am not much of an animal person, so this was a really strange juxtaposition for me to be placed in the role of animal rights representative.

Another wonderful snippet from this week happened as I was coming down my outside apartment stairs, on my way back to school after lunch. When you get to the end of our staircase, you turn right toward school and walk past the washing machine. It's very small and unaccompanied, as there is no need for a dryer, and it sits right under the stairs so as to be protected from rain. On this particular day, Sophal and Simean, two of our wonderful cleaners, who happen to be sisters and live at the end of the Liger road, were standing there in their matching gray Liger polos. I startled them, but not before I saw what they were doing. A la Ben Stiller in Zoolander, trying to get the files out of the computer, they were poking at the washing machine with the most puzzled looks on their faces. The washing machine was at the end of a cycle, buzzing and bumping with only five minutes left on the timer. When I came by, they both started laughing an embarrassed laugh as if I had caught them doing something wrong, and then as they always do, began urgently speaking to me in Khmer as if I have any idea what they are saying. I tried to pantomime what the machine did and how it related to the neighboring drying racks full of wet clothes, but they just laughed as if I were crazy.

It's really the little things about this place that allow you to smile every day.

I had dinner with friends on Thursday, and one told me about the funny looks she gets from Cambodians when she is walking the dog early in the morning and stops to pick up the poop. She said that the look on people's faces indicate that they think she is actually collecting dog poop to use for some weird reason; it does not occur to them that she is contributing to the general cleanliness and health of the community. That would be too outlandish.

Heading into week five tomorrow and then will be off on our first vacation, this time to Luang Prabang in Laos! We are also going to be sitting in the VIP section (what what?!) for a huge MMA fight next weekend. Very exciting for Cambodia to host such an event, so we couldn't miss it.

I leave you with a recent photo from our balcony.

Year Three: Momentum

My theme for this year is positive momentum.

The first year at Liger, as I have said to many people, felt almost like a false start. We came in with high expectations and big dreams, but it was harder than we thought to mesh our personal goals with the reality of this brand-new school. We had students we knew nothing about, who spoke little to no English. We were creating curriculum daily, based on their ever-emerging needs, with little time for quality reflection. Our teaching staff was the eight-armed octopus, all going in different directions.

Year Two was easier in some regards, but also more challenging. While we knew our students much better, and they us, they had made so much progress relative to themselves that the stakes were raised. We needed to do even more. Push even harder. Those initial expectations that we arrived with had now been met and surpassed. Low English was no longer pervasive, and the majority of students were engaging with and truly enjoying our out-of-the-box approach to teaching. Year Two felt like what we imagined Year One to be. Now I know what it means to work at a start-up. I understand that growing pains are hard, but usually worthwhile. That being said, I'm not sure if I ever want to do it again...

Now we are embarking on Year Three. I am proud to say some of my top students might even be able to use context to decode the meaning of that word. English is now spoken during the entire school day, no exceptions. It has simply become the norm, and runs on the honor system with less and less frequent reminders and check-ins. For the most part, these kids are incredibly, almost uniquely, honest. They prioritize respect and we can trust them to turn themselves in if they have made even the smallest mistake. They are now twelve and thirteen, becoming adolescents (gag - prior to this I have never taught beyond third grade) and with that comes all the requisite questioning and envelope-pushing.

This year we have a new focus on Entrepreneurship, so our first few days back have acted as a general introduction. Last year, Jeff and Dom created a partnership with a pair of local brothers -- born in California to Chinese-Cambodian parents who fled the Khmer Rouge -- who started the first 3D printing company in the country. They opened their own shop this weekend and all 50 of our students attended, networking with local businesspeople, seeing the latest technology, asking questions and drawing up their ideas for what the printers could print. Before the end of this year, each student will rotate through a 7-week start-up business project, led by the brothers, in which they will agree on the best item to be 3D printed, design, market and sell it. Some of the ideas I have heard floating around are baby-safe electrical plugs, which do not exist here, and a relief map of the entire country for use in government schools.

Last week, students researched different entrepreneurs and took on their histories and personalities in a faux networking event. We had the Rocher (chocolate) magnate making business deals with the owner of the largest Chinese supermarket chain. Three members of the Wal-mart family were being asked by Warren Buffet (played by one of our female students) why they refuse to sign his 50% pledge. Niron, who was the owner of what is now known as H&M, was carrying around one of my shirts as evidence of his product. His opening line? "Do you like fashion?"

Even though this sort of teaching is not the norm for me, and in no way would I consider myself an entrepreneur, I have enjoyed teaching them email etiquette and networking skills, and tomorrow, launching their dining etiquette course. No more chewing with their mouths open!

We have only been back about a week, but it genuinely feels like we never left. It is currently thunder storming outside in the best possible way. The air smells so fresh, the dust is gone (for now), and I can hear the yells of the kids from the sports court.

Since this year may very well be our last, I want to try and remind myself to take full advantage, push myself out of any bad moods that arise, and really make the best of it.

Stay tuned to see how that goes...

I sign off with something new and something old. First the new: while we were gone, Phnom Penh got its first real mall. We are talking gorgeous lighting, sparkling floors, escalators and top of the line haute couture stores. Food court, parking garage, fountains...I mean, the real deal. Furthermore, our local grocery store went green, now stocking their own brand of reusable cloth bags. Such progress, one might think.

However, lest we forget we live in what used to be a jungle, I also witnessed the discovery and subsequent hunt for a five-foot snake. Oh yes.