A Note About My Students

They've shaped my experience here in more ways than I can count and I'm a different (in a good way, I like to think) person because of them. 

With my youngest little geniuses!

Class sizes at my school are pretty large, so I taught roughly 200 students, though I only saw about 140 of them on a regular basis. I also gave private lessons to the 12 year old son of one of the teachers at my school. Those students are among the 141 greatest Spaniards--natives and immigrants--I will probably ever meet. Though some of the teachers with whom I worked made my time at IES Parque de Lisboa a little stressful some days, I'd do it all again just to have the opportunity to have known those kids.

Every experience I've shared with them has been nothing short of memorable (in good and less-than-stellar ways). Seeing some of the more motivated students constantly work to improve their knowledge of the English language was inspiring. Watching the positive evolution of those who struggled was gratifying. The realization that many of them would go on to do amazing things was heart-warming. In essence, my days with them were a jumble of emotions.

Yely and Me

There are certain students who stand out for different reasons. For instance, there's the tall Ukrainian girl who speaks four languages, wants to attend college in the States, and always insisted on calling me "Teacher." There's the boy whose last name translates to "Orange." The girl who screamed, "Hello, Ari!" above everyone else every Tuesday at 8:30 in the morning and who, on one of the last days of school, told me not to forget her, "the Class Crazy". The cocky first year boy who just knows that he's talented and, thus, walks with a peacock's strut. The girl with the sad eyes who fought her own internal war for most of the year and who finally started to smile a little easier towards the end. These, and so many more, are the faces and names that will come home with me.

My kids made me cards for Thanksgiving, which had me

My Thanksgiving card from one of my classes

fighting back tears. Some made me Christmas cards, others invited me to graduation and end of the year celebrations; I even have a handmade pair of earrings in the shape of yellow submarines, since a great portion of their year was dedicated to studying The Beatles. They've tested my knowledge of the Spanish language by daring me to correctly roll my r's and asking me to repeat words they thought I wouldn't be able to say. I've wanted to throttle and hug them #atthesamedamntime on more days than I can count. They've made me scratch my head in confusion, scream in frustration, and look at them with a variety of facial expressions that should really have been photographed. I've bemoaned and disowned them, coached and cheered for them, and have looked on in awe at how talented and wonderful so many of them are. I came to care for and worry about them as if they were my 141 younger brothers and sisters. I know that, in the weeks and months to come, I'll miss them in much the same way.

1st Bachillerato

Over the years, many of them will forget my face and name and vice versa; it's as inevitable as the changing of the seasons. Others--those that I have and haven't mentioned in this post--have left an indelible impression on my life. Regardless of whether I remember their faces and names, they've collectively taught me more than I could ever teach them. They've given me lessons on patience: after screaming, "Be quiet!" for the 500th time, one's patience begins to wear thin, but throwing something at someones head isn't quite legal. I've learned humility; they were afraid to speak to me in English, but what I don't think they realized was just how intimidated I was to speak to them in Spanish when I chose to. They've taught me how to confront my flaws and shortcomings; every time I stood before them not knowing the answer to one of their questions and having to admit as much was one of the hardest things I had to do. I could go on with the multiplicity of things on which they've educated me, but this post would be even longer than it already is.

With Juan, my private student and one of the brightest,
funniest, most grounded children I had the pleasure of
meeting in Spain.

I'm beyond blessed to have known my students at Parque Lisboa. They're phenomenal beings. For every lesson they taught me, every smile and laugh for which they were responsible, and for the precious memories that I'll carry with me long after my days in Madrid are over, I am, and always will be, humbly grateful.

Gracias por todo.