I came back from a long weekend in Senegal with a hoarse voice that quickly deteriorated. For the past two days I have had no voice at all. It has been interesting to be in Nouakchott without the ability to speak. My phone rings often and I try to answer but all I hear is the person on the other end of the line saying, "Hello? Hello?" and then hang up. I send messages saying "I lost my voice." I also ask whomever is standing close to me to answer my phone and explain to the person that I am here, but can't talk on the phone. This also causes much confusion. Maybe it would just be better to turn my phone off until I get my voice back!
I have been reminded of the two other times in my life when I completely lost my voice: In a refugee camp in Ethiopia and while teaching in Chicago. In Ethiopia, I didn't go to class and tried to sleep a lot. I remember waking up in the middle of the afternoon to a crowd of students and colleagues gathered around my bed. They brought me juice and hot tea. They were very worried about me and I couldn't convince them that I was not really THAT sick, just needed to rest. Their constant "checking in" on me actually prevented me from getting the sleep I really needed but I was so appreciative of their concern and thoughtful care-taking.
One night our cook came to my room and asked if I wanted to try traditional medicine. I nodded my head affirmatively and a few minutes later she returned with a small stove. She also carried a large blanket, which she placed over my head and told me to lean over the stove. On top of the hot coals she placed many herbs, the only one I recognized was eucalyptus. After a few minutes of breathing in the smoke, she lifted the blanket and pulled it over my shoulders. She instructed me not to get out of my bed or touch water until morning. I did as I was told. The next day everyone looked more than a little disappointed that I still couldn't utter a word.
In Chicago, I tried to keep teaching despite the obvious difficulties of teaching in a very challenging environment with no voice. On the first day the students were so sweet and helpful, they read from the board and cooperated with my silent directions. It seemed like nothing short of a miracle. The spell broke on the second day when Durrell, who was usually polite, came to class with a basketball. He walked right up to the front of the room, dribbled the ball dramatically in front of me and said, smiling, "What'chu gonna do, Miss Delia? What... you.... gonna... do?" He knew that I was not going to do anything at all. I let him have his fun and after he got the attention he wanted from the entire class he sat down. The rest of the day was basically the same. The third day I didn't come to class. Fortunately, I was saved by the winter break and had enough time to recover completely before returning to class.
Although my colleagues and students in Mauritania would understand if I missed class, I really wanted to teach this week. Last week was a shortened week due to a holiday and I felt like we had some important material to cover. I was confident that my students could manage class, even with a quiet teacher.
I found it more difficult than I predicted. My class has 33 students and they have a lot of energy and it is sometimes challenging to get them to re-focus between activities. I practiced a new style of teaching without talking, where I flailed my arms around, clapped as loud as I could, banged on the desks, and stomped my feet. It was classroom management TPR (total physical response)!
It is amazing how much information can be communicated without words. I wrote directions on the board and pointed to different students to read the text out loud. I whispered what I wanted to say and called on a student to be my translater. In this way, many students practiced giving directions and getting the attention of their peers. Teaching became a community effort.
Since the second-half of the class was a sort of "review party" we played Jeopardy, drank soda, and ate cookies. I elected a student to be the host of the game. The host was a "bad" student who has missed a lot of classes and his role enabled him to still actively participate, despite being behind on the material covered by the questions.
It was the first time my students had ever played a game like Jeopardy and it was a bit difficult to explain the rules and control the crowd without being able to speak. During the time between questions there was an explosion of excitement with each group yelling at top volume to vie for the attention of the host and take control of the game. Since each group had a different noise to get attention, and all groups chose to make animal noises, the room sounded like a zoo! I fear to think of what my colleagues think of my teaching methods. I had flashbacks to my classroom in Chicago...
My students were a little bit out of control, but in the best possible way. They got a bit carried away by the competitiveness and chaos of the game. Next time we play the game I can do better to help them respect the students trying to study in the neighboring classrooms. I was amazed at how quickly they understood the game and more importantly, how well they answered all of the questions! It was impressive to see them competing to be the first to yell out the correct answers. I hope that all of our classes in the future can be filled with so much passion, excitement, and enthusiasm, and learning- voice or no voice.
I have been reminded of the two other times in my life when I completely lost my voice: In a refugee camp in Ethiopia and while teaching in Chicago. In Ethiopia, I didn't go to class and tried to sleep a lot. I remember waking up in the middle of the afternoon to a crowd of students and colleagues gathered around my bed. They brought me juice and hot tea. They were very worried about me and I couldn't convince them that I was not really THAT sick, just needed to rest. Their constant "checking in" on me actually prevented me from getting the sleep I really needed but I was so appreciative of their concern and thoughtful care-taking.
One night our cook came to my room and asked if I wanted to try traditional medicine. I nodded my head affirmatively and a few minutes later she returned with a small stove. She also carried a large blanket, which she placed over my head and told me to lean over the stove. On top of the hot coals she placed many herbs, the only one I recognized was eucalyptus. After a few minutes of breathing in the smoke, she lifted the blanket and pulled it over my shoulders. She instructed me not to get out of my bed or touch water until morning. I did as I was told. The next day everyone looked more than a little disappointed that I still couldn't utter a word.
In Chicago, I tried to keep teaching despite the obvious difficulties of teaching in a very challenging environment with no voice. On the first day the students were so sweet and helpful, they read from the board and cooperated with my silent directions. It seemed like nothing short of a miracle. The spell broke on the second day when Durrell, who was usually polite, came to class with a basketball. He walked right up to the front of the room, dribbled the ball dramatically in front of me and said, smiling, "What'chu gonna do, Miss Delia? What... you.... gonna... do?" He knew that I was not going to do anything at all. I let him have his fun and after he got the attention he wanted from the entire class he sat down. The rest of the day was basically the same. The third day I didn't come to class. Fortunately, I was saved by the winter break and had enough time to recover completely before returning to class.
Although my colleagues and students in Mauritania would understand if I missed class, I really wanted to teach this week. Last week was a shortened week due to a holiday and I felt like we had some important material to cover. I was confident that my students could manage class, even with a quiet teacher.
I found it more difficult than I predicted. My class has 33 students and they have a lot of energy and it is sometimes challenging to get them to re-focus between activities. I practiced a new style of teaching without talking, where I flailed my arms around, clapped as loud as I could, banged on the desks, and stomped my feet. It was classroom management TPR (total physical response)!
It is amazing how much information can be communicated without words. I wrote directions on the board and pointed to different students to read the text out loud. I whispered what I wanted to say and called on a student to be my translater. In this way, many students practiced giving directions and getting the attention of their peers. Teaching became a community effort.
Since the second-half of the class was a sort of "review party" we played Jeopardy, drank soda, and ate cookies. I elected a student to be the host of the game. The host was a "bad" student who has missed a lot of classes and his role enabled him to still actively participate, despite being behind on the material covered by the questions.
It was the first time my students had ever played a game like Jeopardy and it was a bit difficult to explain the rules and control the crowd without being able to speak. During the time between questions there was an explosion of excitement with each group yelling at top volume to vie for the attention of the host and take control of the game. Since each group had a different noise to get attention, and all groups chose to make animal noises, the room sounded like a zoo! I fear to think of what my colleagues think of my teaching methods. I had flashbacks to my classroom in Chicago...
My students were a little bit out of control, but in the best possible way. They got a bit carried away by the competitiveness and chaos of the game. Next time we play the game I can do better to help them respect the students trying to study in the neighboring classrooms. I was amazed at how quickly they understood the game and more importantly, how well they answered all of the questions! It was impressive to see them competing to be the first to yell out the correct answers. I hope that all of our classes in the future can be filled with so much passion, excitement, and enthusiasm, and learning- voice or no voice.
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