Reflection: Teaching Women English

This is my third week working at Vidya with the women’s group, and I am only now starting to realize the extent of the task I have undertaken. As an English teacher at Vidya, I had expected a structure conducive to the teaching environment, much like the one I had in Guatemala when I taught a fourth grade class English for about an hour every day. In Guatemala, the teachers, who were already in control of their class, would step back and allow me to take my hour to teach an English topic of my choice. The children would sit reverently at their desks in their uniforms grasping their pencils in their hands, hovering over a blank page of paper, ready for whatever lesson I had for them that day. Naturally, under such favorable circumstances, I flourished…and I began to believe that teaching was something that came naturally to me—through the years, I began to believe that this was my life calling.

Of course, the fact that I already knew how to speak Spanish was more than just a little helpful. In India, I have no such advantage. Hindi is an interesting and conceptually simple language, but I had not had nearly enough exposure or experience with the language for it to make much of a difference at my work environment. Furthermore, my circumstances proved much more complex than the one I had encountered a few years back in Guatemala. Munirka, the slum community (or urban colony, to be politically correct) I work within had little foundation for me to build on. On my first day I learned that it had been about 10 years since the last time the women’s group at Vidya had been offered the opportunity to learn English. When I arrived, I was met by shy and curious stares by women who understood my alien language about as much as I understood theirs. In spite of my best efforts to communicate with them, they could not understand me. With time, they began turning away from me, standing at the front of the classroom, to visit together and sew clothes for themselves or their family members. Two older women always seemed enthusiastic to learn, but the younger girls seemed more interested in gossiping and sewing. Still, as they silently stole glances at me from behind their needlework, I realized that the structure I had so depended on in Guatemala did not effortlessly exist at Munirka. I was so devastated…and I felt so inadequate for what was being expected of me.

Some of the women sewing (attendance varies from day to day), backs turned away from the blackboard, but always stealing glances at us.

Lata and Rajkumari, two older students that spend most of their time with Danielle. They are very enthusiastic about learning English so that they can keep up with their children's education. It was hilarious trying to get them to smile in this picture.

For a while, I found myself withdrawing from my internship assignment. I escaped silently, and unnoticed, from the long, dusty and ragged rug on which the 30 of us sat together as often as I could, choosing instead to play with the children who also attended the school. I imagine I must either driven the other two classroom teachers mad, for distracting their classes, or relieved that they no longer had to teach because the foreigner was distracting their students. I found it easier to associate with the children, who, still young and enthusiastic about life, were at an age that seemed to defy language barriers. They would signal their wishes…”Didi!” they’d yell to catch my attention (a word that means older sister in Hindi), and then point to a ball and kick it my way. Or “Didi!”, and then lift their arms up so that I could throw them into the air…or “Didi!” and point to themselves to signify it was their turn now to choose what game we would play. Working with the children was easier, and more instantly rewarding, so I ignored my duty to teach English for the main part of the first and second weeks, and drew pictures for the children, and read short stories with them. For a while, I was indifferent, and then angry with myself, and at the women for not caring about what sacrifices I had made. I felt foolish and naïve for having traveled to the other side of the world to do something that I thought they needed me to do when it felt like I was the only one trying to accomplish anything.

Pooja, Soniya, Pooja, and Krishna: the youngest, and most quiet and shy girls when it comes to learning English, but really so sweet. 

Over the weekend, however, I realized that I had come to India to improve the current situation for someone, even if just for a little bit. I decided that my experience would set the tone for how many more English teachers Vidya would receive over the next few years…Maybe if I did not try hard enough, the women would not have this opportunity again for a long time, if ever in their lifetime. On the other hand, should I build a strong foundation, the interns that followed me might improve the system a little more until, finally, a single structure became solid. As I began to work to formulate a syllabus, or curriculum, I had help from Mrs. Bela, Jaggi and Lalit, the staff, who helped me to bridge the language gap by asking the women about their interests and explaining my purpose there. I worked on Tuesday to come up with an English proficiency exam to give to the class today, which proved significantly successful, in spite of some challenges, so for now, my glass is starting to look a little more full than usual…

For tomorrow, I am preparing a lesson on nouns and vocabs associated with sewing, an activity all the women confessed as their favorite pastime.  I hope that by aligning the subject matter to their lives, they will feel a little more interested in the class, but I will post the result later.

Cheers.