The First Week: Part 1

Hello again! I obviously lied in the last post, as I did not end up posting a daily update like I had planned (but that was not realistically in-character, let’s be honest). So before I share what happened in the amazing cities of Berlin and Stockholm, and about getting caught up in the aftermath of a pilot strike, I’m going to talk about my first week in the Irish school system! This post will have to be split in two for length, time, and sanity’s sake. 

After an early morning bus ride, my travel companions and I were able to make it back to Westport after one of the most stressful travel events of my life (but more on that later). We got ten minutes to change from travel casual to classroom ready, and then we hopped in the waiting taxi and headed to Gaelscoil na Cruaiche, our host-school for the next week. Another thing about the school... it’s a fully Gaelic school, meaning every member of the faculty and student body speaks Gaelic unless the lesson is required to be in English. 

The Gaelscoil

We knew that we were in for something totally new. When we arrived, we were greeted by two very nice members of the faculty who were very concerned about our lack of sleep (“would you like a cup of tea? Aren’t you shattered?” they kept asking, which I’m guessing is the Irish equivalent of ‘wrecked’ or ‘exhausted’). We were ushered into our respective classrooms, and instantly the kids were silent. From the moment I walked into Rang 3 (class 3), I felt like the newest traveling exhibit at the Children’s Museum. As soon as they were allowed, the kids broke their Gaelic and asked me all kinds of questions, which were put on hold so that their múinteoir (teacher) could continue with her lesson. For a long while I just sat and watched, and listened. You guys- the students are IMPRESSIVE. In the few days I have been here, I have been blown away by the things they can do. Firstly and foremost, they all speak extremely fluent Gaelic. This is an old and difficult language; you don’t pronounce several letters in most words, some letter combinations make sounds that sound like different letters, and most words do not sound like they look. It is - incredibly- hard to learn. These kids are fluent by age 8. On top of that, they’re all learning French. FRENCH. They get French lessons every single week and are able to have full conversations by the time they’re ready for secondary school. PLUS they all learn how to play the tin flute and the button accordion/concertina, and have the option (and motivation) to learn the piano accordion, the flute, the cello, the bodhrán (an Irish drum), the harp, and others. So not only are they lingually literate, they are musically literate as well. Like I said, impressive. 

Through un-breaking stares, loud whispers in Gaelic, and a constant circle of students, we felt kind of like minor celebrities, and we were absolutely bombarded with questions from curious kids. On my second day (and after a long and beautiful walk to the school), I held a Q-and-A with my class. 

Our daily commute

They asked questions like, “What’s America like? How long did it take you to get here? What does “y’all” mean? Do you know Jake Paul? Do you really fry all your food? What’s your favorite color? How would you rate Donald Trump’s presidency on a scale of 1-10?” These kids seriously asked every question under the rainbow and then some. Some of them were expected- the differences between America and Ireland, funny words or names, American traditions and habits- but others were more surprising. They asked me a lot of questions about myself; I think they were looking to see if my life in any way resembled their own. I told them about my family and my dog, my cities and my school, my interests and my opinions. It forced me to really examine myself from a literally trivial perspective I haven’t thought about in a long time, considering how often I’ve had to fill out a professional resume in the last few months. They also asked several questions about American politics, history, and religion, which really threw me for a loop. So often in the States we avoid certain topics like the plague because they’re taboo to discuss with perfect strangers, coworkers, or even friends; too much of a difference in opinion could cause too much uneasiness for friendly cooperation, so no one takes the chance. These kids, though, don’t care about difference of opinion when it comes to these topics. For them, what goes on in America is a regular topic of conversation, and they don’t have to pick a side. I glanced at their teacher every time one of these questions came up, internally cringing out of habit, but she only urged me on. She wanted me to answer their questions honestly, so I did (with as simple an explanation as I could muster). I told them about how America has two big political parties that currently disagree over how our president is running the country, and that we have a big election coming up soon to see if he will get be our president again for another four years. I said that a lot of people are angry, and our country is divided at the moment, but not everyone let’s the craziness get the best of them. Compared to their country, America is young, it’s still growing, and we’re still learning how to make the best of our successes and our mistakes. It broke my heart to hear them ask if America hates Mexico and immigrants, or why we love plastic so much, or if it was common for people to get so mad that they pull out a gun. This is the America that they see- that the world sees. They perceive the best and worst of us and build up a complicated, split image in their head of what an American is supposed to be. They know that we’re supposed to be United- the land of the patriotic free and the forefront of the big civil rights movements, but everything coming across the world news paints a picture of nationalist extremes and intrusion on civil liberties- of divisions and walls. These inquisitive kids seemed to be more interested and open to talking about American politics than most adults I know back home, so with their teacher’s permission, I was happy to answer their questions as best I could. 

A typical day at this school is nothing like what I’ve been able to observe in the American elementary school system. First and foremost, their school day begins a at 9:00am and ends around 2:30pm, for a total of 5.5 hours in the school. The students also get two breaks spaced evenly through the day, one short break at around 10:00 for a snack and recess (and a full kilometer lap), and a second, longer break for lunch and another recess (and another lap). Combined, these breaks make up just over an hour of the day, leaving 4.5 hours of instructional time. The teachers were absolutely horrified to learn that our students go from 7:30am to nearly 3:00 with a measly 25 minutes for lunch (and no outdoor activities). Throughout the day, the kids are cooperative, energized, and eager to learn. The teachers attribute this not only to the break times spent outdoors, but also the freedoms they allow the students within the school. During lunch, the teachers all head to the staff room while the students roam in and out of their classroom as they please, switching between eating their lunches and running around outside (though recess is lightly supervised in case of injury)- sometimes they even pop casually into the staff room for a cup of water. Teachers are not required to be with their students at all times. This was the biggest shock for me, since back home, leaving a class alone for an extended amount of time could be disastrous for the students and for the teacher. The teachers assured me that this was just how things worked; they trust their coworkers to peak in on an occasional classroom if they happen to be walking by, but more importantly, they say the kids know how they should be acting and act accordingly. This was, and still remains, a MAJOR adjustment for me. Every time I start to leave for lunch, I stick around for a few minutes extra because it feels wrong and unsafe to leave the kids alone in the classroom- like I’m breaking the golden rule of teaching. The kids, however, are used to this routine. They get time to talk and play freely with their classmates, and they don’t take it for granted. Behavior problems during this time are reportedly very rare because the students understand that this time is a wonderful privilege, and it would be silly to do something to get themselves or their class in trouble. And, like the teachers said, they know how to act. There is a respect for the school itself unlike many I have seen. Students sweep the classroom floor twice a day, there is no visible graffiti, and trash always ends up in the bins, not the floor. The school has just over 200 students, and each grade level (of which there are eight) gets their own classroom (also every classroom has a girls’ and a boys’ bathroom which is just incredible). They are also allowed to check out one of the school’s hundreds of instruments to play and practice, and they are all still in great condition. Unfortunately in an American classroom, there is always a level of distrust. No matter how much we want to tell ourselves that our class would never break, steal, or harm something in our absence, we can not shake that big “what if” (and the fear of a lawsuit). In this school, the students’ main priority is not always the core academia: educators really focus on creating young, respectful, thoughtful Irish citizens by instilling a sense of responsibility and pride in their space. My hope is that we can reform our education system to include these core values from the very beginning and continue to make them a priority on par with standardized testing in the later years. 

It takes me ages to write one of these things- ages I do not have- so my upload schedule will be a bit all over the place. Here are the titles of my unwritten, upcoming posts:

The First Week: Part 2

Life in Westport, Ireland
Climbing the Mountain

Perfect Cities and Pilot Strikes

Final Thoughts/Going Home