Disciplina

Ask PCVs what they think about the youth in El Salvador and they'll tell you three things: they eat too much junk food, they're poorly educated, and they have absolutely no discipline.

Discipline. We're all twenty-somethings, so what do we know about disciplining children? Well, we have our own childhoods to go off of. Whether it was spankings, time-outs, or the gold star system, we all had some kind of adult figure telling us when we were acting a fool. And one way or another we learned how to behave.

This isn't the case in El Salvador. The adultos mayores in the community blame the schools. Back in their day, they assure me, you greeted an adult with respect and knew how to act right in school. (I think corporal punishment in schools also played a role in their education.) Young parents blame other young parents for raising troublemakers that corrupt their perfect little angels. Oh, and it's also the school's responsibility to teach proper behavior and discipline.

But the school system is a wreck. To this day I have never been in a school that was not in the middle of recess. Never. Ever. Kids go to school for 3 hours and 30 minutes, Monday through Friday (if there are no community events and their parents care enough to send them), and roughly 1/3 of that time is recess. Hmm, can you even call it recess? The kids scream like banshees and literally swing from the rafters. They eat churros and dulces, then get a orange soda to wash it all down. There's not enough space to play sports or even draw hopscotch. It's chaos, it's loud, and doesn't instill discipline.

Certain behaviors are bound to emerge when you grow up with this kind of "learning" environment. Short attention spans, disrespect, an overwhelming sense of "who cares?" Add raging teenage hormones to that and you have my 9th grade English class.

I teach English to fourteen 9th graders every Thursday for one hour. It's the comprise I came to with the Directora. I like teaching English. Just the other day I taught them how to read numbers. I can write "sixty-five" on the board and they'll read it out loud. That's a huge success! I was so proud!

I have three rules in my class, just THREE RULES you must abide by: 1) be on time, 2) be respectful, and 3) participate.

Today they broke all my rules. We started 15 minutes late, which I don't like but it's an improvement from the last week. We were learning years, dates and ages to build off of the last two weeks of "numbers." It's kinda a big deal, because if you get across the border and an Arizona cop asks you how old you are, you better be able to say "sixteen" convincingly. But I digress...

Two kids are copying each other's math homework. Three guys sit stony faced with their arms crossed, clearly too cool to say dos mil catorce en ingles. The girls are chit chatting about- oh, I have no idea. Boys? College? Preventing teenage pregnancy? I'm getting upset, so I ask "How do you feel about years. Can you tell me all the years just by reading them?"

The sassy pretty girl that reminds me of my little sister tells me yes. But when I ask her to say  dos mil catorce en ingles, she says she forgets. I insist she look at her notes for help. Uh, she didn't take notes. No notes? Qué lástima, you didn't learn. I go around the classroom calling each troublemaker out one. after. the. other. And they all think it's a joke until I end the class. This is extra for me, I tell them, to teach you kids, the only kids in the entire community who are receiving English classes. You kids, who only have to follow THREE RULES. If you cannot or will not follow these rules, do not come to the next class.

Some of the bookish kids come up to me as I roll up my charla papers and apologize for their classmates. I feel bad for cutting their time short, but it doesn't change my mind about disciplining the others. I leave somewhat angry and a little distraught. I know there will be some kids at the next class, but who's to say they'll stay? Did I invoke the wrath of God when I embarrassed these kids in front of the class? Are they going to egg my house? Everyone has chickens here!!!! It took me 2 hours to think of activities to teach numbers, dammit! I keep telling these people I'm not an English teacher! Why couldn't they just listen!?!

Afterwards I had a long day of meetings and house visits, and arrived to my house exhausted. As I peeled off my sweat soaked clothes, someone said "Hola" at my window. It was the kid who was copying math homework. Oh boy.

Seven of the troublemakers came to my house to apologize. They do want to learn, and they'll be better. They promise. I apologize too. I'm new to teaching, it's true, but I'm well versed in respect. I want to create a positive learning space for everyone who wants to participate. Together we're going to make the classroom into a place of learning. It's a new concept to them.

I feel good now. They know I'm strict and they know bad behavior won't fly. I know that I need to take three deep breaths before I embarrass a kid in front of the class. It's a beautiful move forward, I think.

I have hope for discipline in El Salvador, if there are adults that take the initiative. The hardest part is finding a punishment that sticks. For teenagers, I knew embarrassment would, like, totally ruin their lives. It works! Ive, my host sister, knew that forced love is the best punishment for her son and nephew who were fighting.

Candid photo of the two boys on their knees with their hands on the other's shoulders. They sat like that for 30 minutes. It  was the funniest thing I've ever seen because they were still so mad at each other.  

I learned a lot about myself today. For example, I'd probably be fired from a formal teaching position very quickly. I also gained a new found respect for my father who teaches technology to 4th and 5th graders. My hats off to you, dad!