Zoe

I really hate not being able to have separate classes for students at different levels. I've been reminded of this several times lately, and twice in the last two weeks, these reminders have revolved around one student: Zoe.

Apparently, the only picture I have of her is from Halloween...so, no, this is NOT her normal daily attire.

Zoe is a 6th grader at Qingshan. And I'll be honest: other than knowing her by face and name, and knowing that she was her class's leader (as evidenced by her constantly yelling at them when they misbehaved), that's about all I knew about Zoe. Was she nice? I didn't know. Was she good at English? I didn't know.

Then, a few weeks ago, I found out. Patty asked me to help write the 6th grade English graduation speech (apparently they do speeches in English, Chinese and Taiwanese at Qingshan, which is kinda cool). And, when I asked if I could get some thoughts from the students on graduation to work with, she said sure--she'd just ask the person who'd be giving the speech, Zoe.

So, apparently Zoe is GREAT at English. Last week, I helped her through the more difficult words of the speech I'd written, but even without my help she did a fantastic job of reading it. And I never knew. Because, you see, Zoe just so happens to be in a class that is 2/3 boys--and not just any boys. No, these are the boys who are legendary at Qingshan; their entire class is known as troublemakers who are all but impossible to control. In any given lesson, just getting these kids to keep it down to a dull roar so we can maybe--maybe--make it most of the way through the lesson is the sole focus of the day.

And there, plopped down with another 9 unfortunate girls, is Zoe.

In class today, the 6th graders at Qingshan performed their English finals, self-produced skits based on various dialogs from the book. The first performance came from some of the infamous boys, who laughed their way through butchering their lines; I gave them a 70 only because I knew anything lower would never make it out alive from the Taiwanese grade inflation machine. A few minutes later, Zoe's group (all girls) went, and earned the single highest score I gave anyone all day, a 99.

I'll be honest, I don't know how classes are determined in America, or whether or not kids at different skill levels are actually split into them or not. I know that happens at the high school level, and I remember hearing people talk about T.A.G. testing or something, but I don't know the ins and outs of how it works. Maybe it's not too different; maybe it is.

But I just have to say, to all education systems, letting kids like Zoe disappear into a classroom full of rowdy, disinterested kids is just not right! YES, ideally there would be no rowdy, disinterested kids, and YES, it should be and is every teacher's job to make sure no one disappears in a classroom setting (and it should be noted that Patty clearly saw her: she did pick her out of all the 6th graders to give the speech, after all!).

But if you have a class in which some of the kids don't know their ABCs, while other kids can hold advanced conversations with the teacher, how will anyone learn? That last sentence describes a vast majority of my classes here. It's an impossible task for teachers and for students; in the end, you end up catering to the middle, leaving kids at the extremes either bored or confused. Sound promising to you? Me neither.

On the flip side, one of my favorite things I've done this year was remedial English classes, which included kids who often goof off in class but who, in remedial class, were fully invested in what we were learning. And, of course, the main reason the highest-level kids are good is because of their level-specific buqiban classes. Just saying.

I started this post to talk about Zoe, and somehow it has now led me down a path that looks as though I'm calling for educational reform.  I don't know how that happened, but there it is. I'm glad that, at least last--and at last--I have discovered how great Zoe is, despite her classmates' distractions!