The Kids are Alright: My First Week in A Coruña

If you had approached me a year ago and said that 2020 would see me teaching English to Spanish primary schoolers, I'd never have believed you. I would have sworn that I was incapable of teaching tweens, and would avoid it at all costs. Yet, here I am typing out this post in my room at Lagos Residencia, trying to type in good sentences and drown out the noise of Saturday hockey unfolding opposite my window.

I'd be lying if I said that my introduction to teaching primary was seamless. For the first few days, I determined that the kids must hate me and that my nerves were all too obvious. Kids can pick up on these things, I'd been told; if you're on edge, they will be too. But here I am at the end of my first week with a stack of notes and pictures from my second and third-grade classes. As I type this, a piece of notebook paper with "JACOVO" written in block, highlighter-pink letters sits on my desk. Another one reads "JACOB is the best in Englis" alongside a pencil picture of a sloth (my favorite animal) captioned "To Jacob from Carla and Ines". I guess I was wrong! 

I'll admit my stomach lurched when I first saw that I was assigned to primary school - how would I ever control a class of thirty seven-year-olds? I prayed for older teens but was given the exact opposite. But now I have to admit, every time I walk by the playground to a sea of waves and a chorus of "Jacobo, Jacobo, hello Jacobo!" I think I must be a new convert. As the saying goes, the kids are alright. 

Now, time for lesson planning.