I can't stop making comparisons between my new school and my old. I suppose it is normal; kids do it for years after they've left a school. Talking about "my old school" from when they were 3. I wonder if my colleagues do this, however. Or if they find apt moments to bring up past experiences more smoothly than I.
It might be that my new post is so drastically different than my old. To be honest, teachers in the American schools overseas (or at least those "at my old school") are constantly referring to "the French system," and not usually waxing on about its merits.
I've been let behind the scenes this year and thus am discovering the reality behind the rumors. I'm not enchanted with everything and often enough I feel like a lone American in a socialist state. I still haven't determined if that's a good thing or not. But some solutions just seem absurdly easy.
Handwriting, for example, is one of those debates that seems endlessly fascinating to American teachers. I remember reading an article in The International Educator about it- one of those two column deals where one side writes pro and another con. The Washington Post is not the only one to notice instruction is fading fast from public schools. While I have always valued handwriting, I've also been one to feel the crunch for learning time. (I can't imagine how my 4th grade Catholic school education had time for religion class and handwriting. Not to mention all those 1/2 day Fridays...)
In the French system, keeping handwriting is not even a question. Which has made me realize perhaps us American teachers have been taking the wrong approach. Perhaps we should be examining the benefits of learning to print. Kids in the French system simply learn to write by writing in cursive. End of debate. So simple, so perfect.
Another endless debate I was caught up in for several years involved gym classes- and field days. Those torturous all-day outside sporting event days filled with pressure and tears and too much sun. Teachers spent a lot of time taking out the competition and finding ways for everyone to win. They spent time figuring out ways to entertain the kids and make sure everyone was involved all the time. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Exhausting but definitely less tears, more happy memories.
Field day at my new school took the form of a "Cross." A marathon that all students ran and had the chance of raising money for. The secondary school held their own cross the same day and all the proceeds will be donated to local schools in one form or another (libraries, school furniture, etc.)
Our school encompasses kids from 3 years to 11 or 12. Every child ran the marathon (not at once, of course. It was, in true French fashion, wonderfully organized and artfully orchestrated in that laid back way that results in less stress all around.) Water and oranges slices were given to the runners after they finished. Each grade hung around to cheer on the younger grades. There was music playing and plenty of that peripheral adult supervision but no planned entertainment or organized activities.
There were winners. The top six runners from each grade level- 3 boys and 3 girls- received traditional medals of gold, silver and bronze in an awards ceremony held about an hour after the last race.
Those were the official winners. The entire audience clapped and cheered for them. Phones and cameras snapped photo after photo. But everyone ran the marathon. Everyone finished. And for some kids, that was the big accomplishment. It was something they could feel proud about. As well as knowing that they were part of something bigger than themselves. The cross was billed as a "cross in solidarity" and by combining the efforts of the school from grades pre-k to terminal everyone had a chance to contribute.
The most amazing thing- no tears. I didn't see a single child upset about not coming in first or second. I didn't see hurt feelings or failures. Out of 800 kids, it possible I may have missed something.
But my job included marking the runners' tags after each lap. What I saw was determination, perseverance, relief and even surprise on their faces. Kids pushed themselves to do their personal best. They encouraged their peers; some of the oldest kids ran alongside the younger kids, holding their hands and cheering them on.
Beautiful. Simple. Effective. Field day French style. A+
