English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #6: Buckle up! It’s going to be a ride by Shannon Norman

Buckle up! It’s going to be a ride...by Shannon Norman


“Good things come to those who wait.” I completely believe this adage…

I was meant to go abroad a while ago, but there was some sort of magnetic pull keeping me here. I say that with a smile on my face, though.  Had I not listened to my gut, I would not be getting the experience I’m getting right now. So, as you may or may not know, I’ve recently become the new TEFL facilitator at The Knowledge Workshop. As I sit back in my (newly acquired) black office chair and think back to the 11^th of January 2016, I can finally say “120 hours of teacher-training done and dusted.” I’ve spent weeks and days preparing for this eventuality and I’VE DONE IT. The mountains I thought I would need to climb seem more like molehills now, and the deep waters I thought I had to swim, seem more like fun puddles of water that you just want to splash around in. 
Knowing that I successfully trained 11 teachers, on my own, feels like quite an accomplishment. You know that feeling when you take that new red pen of yours and scratch out that ‘thing’ on your To-Do List? That’s the feeling I have now, that feeling of self-satisfaction, except this feeling is a gazillion times better. 

I might have moved too quickly here, so let me explain all of this in a bit more detail. The TEFL course at TKW is honestly one of the best courses that anyone could ever experience. I say this having done the course, having taught it and most importantly, I say this having witnessed countless teachers express their feelings towards it. There is this opinion that if you do the TEFL course at TKW you are going to learn how to teach English to foreigners and that’s it. Of course, learning to teach English is the main objective here, but this course equips you with far more than just the skills needed to teach English. When you do this course, you walk away with skills that you can use in any facet of life. I’ve had TEFLers come up to me and say that they are who they are now because of this course. Those that were shy, now dance to Justin Bieber in a game of Musical Chairs. Those who were not open to new ideas are now able to present dilemmas to groups of foreign students that ultimately get them to question their own thinking. And those who had their creativity stripped from them at some point in their lives are now able to create games and other resources that have students talking about it for days after. This course propels you out of your comfort zone and takes you on a journey both figuratively and literally. 

The 11^th of January 2016 was the first day of my new job. I arrived at TKW about six hours early. The way I picture a machine operating on full-power is what was happening to my mind - and my mouth. I couldn’t shut up. I feel sorry for my colleagues who had to listen to me babble. But I needed to get rid of the butterflies in my stomach somehow. I didn’t completely talk their ears off though. For the remaining four hours or so, I did a dry-run. I basically lectured a class full of…well… no one. It was my way of getting it right – and so I did this almost every day for the next two weeks. Yep, I put myself into an empty classroom and spoke to no one – practicing everything I needed to say that evening. You see, you’re not the only crazy person out there. 

 So, what happens on the theory component of the course? Here, prospective teachers learn how to put together a four-skills lesson plan. Week one deals with what happens in the classroom and the choices that need to be made while teaching, and week two deals with the major methodologies that teachers can make use of in an EFL classroom. We also look to the four linguistic skills and the activities used to allow students to practice with these skills. There are two major lectures on the course which I had to present to the TEFLers. Usually I am quite hard on myself and ruthlessly critique myself, but thinking back to those nights, I really feel that I did a great job. For those who know me, this is not something that I do very often. I don’t really give myself much praise. So please can we have a moment of silence while I pat myself on the back. BTW, don’t let what I’ve just said fool you into thinking that we don’t have fun on the theory component of the course. Believe me; FUN is integral to everyone’s sanity!

 It’s been a ride, for sure. I’ve been teaching in an EFL classroom for a year, so delivering the course wasn’t something abstract or alien. But a lot of work was still required to get myself ready and prepared regardless. I wanted to make sure that I delivered the best TEFL course imaginable. I guess that’s just part of being a teacher. All in all, I’ve learnt more than I can write in this blog post. I know that the next few courses will enable me to continue learning. I cannot wait to train a few more teachers. I hope you are all ready for me because I am ready for you! (Insert evil laugh). 

But let me draw the line here for now. I’ll be back soon to share some details about what went down during the practical training weeks as a TEFL facilitator. Until next time!

January 2016 TEFL Graduates with Shannon

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #4: A different sort of juggling by Shannon Norman

A different sort of juggling… by Shannon Norman

Have you ever seen someone juggle six tennis balls? It’s quite grand, yeah? The more you stare, the more the juggler impresses you. Not long after watching him (or her) handle six balls – tennis balls of course – it’s likely that you’ll want to try it too. Has this ever been true for you? I can tell you one thing; it has definitely been true for me. When I saw how marvelous-looking it was to juggle that many objects with only two hands I immediately wanted to give it a go.

Well, let’s just say I spent more time crawling on the floor looking for the damn things than actually juggling them! I thought juggling two balls would be a breeze. It turns out that juggling two balls is as difficult as juggling six. It became quite clear to me that day that juggling is not for me.

So, as you can imagine, my life carried on as normal. What’s a normal life? I guess it’s one where juggling balls isn’t a requirement…until I walked through the doors of The Knowledge Workshop. Okay wait, let me rephrase and leave the ‘balls’ behind this time. When I walked through the doors of The Knowledge Workshop, I was blissfully unaware of the juggling journey I was about to embark on which has been dubbed ‘Shannon’s Gigantic Juggling Journey’. And remember folks, from here on out I’ll be referring to a different sort of juggling. 

Let me explain:  Many women believe that they are great at multi-tasking. Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s not that I don’t believe them (I’m sure many women out there are fantastic at this), it’s just that I cannot lie to myself, and the rest of the world. I struggle with multi-tasking. It has never really been one of my strongest skills. It’s a fact; it’s a thing you can’t deny, like the fact that I will love you till I die.

Okay, so if you haven’t guessed it already, I’ve just quoted Katie Melua. You see, even thinking and writing is a challenge for me – I get so distracted by my overly active mind that all I want to do is eat cake and dance in the rain. Anyway, despite my ADHD and my battle with multi-tasking I have become better at it; much better, to be honest. How? I was thrown in the deep end…

Shannon with EFL Students

My journey started with General English. All I was required to do was teach for three hours a day. I ended at 12:30 and by 13:30 I was at home, preparing for my next lesson. Ending as early as I did was a true blessing.

As we all know, nothing great comes easily. If I wanted to reap the benefits and the experience of being a teacher, I needed to accept a few other tasks, literally. So, I was asked to mentor the TEFL trainees doing their practical part of the course. Every six weeks, for a two-week period, I work until 17:00, facilitating the General English classes and conversation classes led by the TEFLers. Besides the after-hour mentoring, I provide the trainees with feedback after their lessons and I assist Marian with their brief for the next day. It’s always such a pleasure observing these classes because I get to witness new ideas unfolding and whether they know it or not, I learn just as much as they do. Also, because I am at school until 17:00, my preparation for the next day starts later. I therefore, have to make sure that I juggle my time and responsibilities wisely.

Then, TOEFL crept in. TOEFL is an American-based English proficiency test, which foreign students who want to study at an English University, need to take. When one of my students completed her General English course, it was time for me to start preparing her for this dreaded test. Before I knew it, we were sitting in a three-hour class preparing for her TOEFL test. Usually, the minimum amount of hours that you should set aside for this sort of preparation is 60 hours. My student wanted to complete her preparation in 30 hours, so you can imagine the pressure we were under. I had to do all of this while teaching General English and facilitating the TEFLERS when need be. It was rough, but the only thing I could do was keep my eye on the prize.

That’s it? Of course not, who are we kidding?

IELTS (which is British-based English proficiency test) was added to my list of ‘things to do’. TKW received a new student who wanted to do the IELTS test as she wanted to study at UCT. My student signed up for 20 hours. So I taught her four hours a week for a period of five weeks. Just to back-track a little; preparing your students for these sorts of tests isn’t as easy as following a guide and that’s that. As the teacher, you actually have to understand each part of the test and do everything you can to make sure that you teach all the essential skills to the best of your ability. What I’m saying is that doing this requires a lot of hard work, homework, and of course (wait for it) more juggling. I say this because more work was added to my list. If I’m starting to sound ridiculous, then you’ve hit the nail on the head.

Part of my responsibility at the school is to teach one-to-one English Improvement classes as well as one-to-one Conversation Classes while doing everything else. For these classes, the students’ needs are very specific and so each lesson is tailored to meet certain expectations. Again, time and effort is required from my side, so naturally, I become a clown and begin my juggling show. :) 

It was tough in the beginning and still is.  Juggle, juggle, juggle all day long. However, it’s more rewarding than anything else on this planet. My schedule has calmed down just a little bit. But trust me, it’s going to pick up again and I’m going to look like an ADHD circus monkey juggling my work like a teacher is supposed to.

I think it’s quite clear now that teaching does things to you – it can even make you good at multi-tasking when you were once shit. :-) 

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #11: Stuck in the mud by Georgina Selander

Stuck in the mud by Georgina Selander

She takes a handful of the gloppy muck and throws it. Splat. Right in the centre of my t-shirt.

My feet squelch down calf-deep as I try to run towards her. I lunge, tackling her around the waist and wrestle her to the ground. Mud oozes between my toes, fills my ears. It sucks and belches loudly as I sink my hand into its depths.

A camera man kneels in front of us. He films as we wrestle and roll, giggling as we get dirtier.

“I think I’ve just got bitten by a crab?! Let’s get out!”

The Mud Festival

My group of friends and I have travelled to the annual Boryeong Mud Festival. It’s a week-long excuse to drink way too much soju, party on the beach, meet reckless foreigners and, of course, get covered in mud.

One of our friends had organised for us to join a tour group. So, on Saturday morning we caught a bus to Boryeong and met up with a group of rowdy, mostly-American expats and a Korean guide. 

Not yet 10 o’clock and already the group were passing around shots, yelling and belting out classic rock covers. Trying to avoid throwing shade in their direction, I scrolled through my Facebook feed. 

A sweaty arm draped over my seat. “Why you so boooring? Get off your phooone!” a young first-time-drinker shouted in my ear. I smiled and cussed him out in Afrikaans. 

First stop was a local mudflat where loud music pumped from large speakers. 

The mudflap

After ignoring the refs encouraging everybody to join the mud race (nooo thanks) we scampered over the rocks and into the mud. Although at first tentative, we were soon covered head-to-toe in the cool grey slop.

Afterwards we hit the showers, and then sat on the rocks drinking cold beer.

Once everyone was clean, we piled back into the bus and headed to the parade. On arrival we were handed water guns, and took pleasure in taking sneaky squirts at the rest of the group and some of the disapproving locals.

I spotted a douchey guy from a previous trip (“uggghh I only wipe my bum with wet wipes”) and chased him down with my gun. 

We camped on the grass and watched as groups of colourful singers, dancers and musicians took turns making grand entrances onto the stage. A group of feathered and bejewelled showgirl dancers even got the crowd romping with a cheesy rendition of Psy’s Gangnam Style.

An African contingent appeared in the form of five or six Congolese and Ivory Coast expats. Unfortunately their soulful drumming was drowned out by the “Oppa Gangnam Style!”

As the afternoon reached its peak, we loaded onto the bus once more and headed to our accommodation. It was time to de-mud, (after four of us had showered, the bathroom was nothing short of a crime scene) make ourselves over and head to the street scene.

Hungry after the day’s activities, we found a rooftop restaurant serving western-style food. Toasting the day’s adventures, we charged our shot glasses with soju. The smell of delicious pork belly (samgyeopsal) wafted over from the table of locals opposite us. We invited them to share in our soju drinking - they offered us crispy, pork-filled lettuce wraps. 

As it started to drizzle, our barely-eaten plate of fried chicken soon became soggy. This was no deterrent to our fun - and we managed to pass some of it off to some tipsy, bikini-clad tourists. We even managed to get a naive young American to eat a lemon wedge, skin-and-all, under the pretence that it was a “special Korean lime that can help…ahem…improve your manhood”.

Next stop was a bar across the street. Bartenders served small buckets of suspect cocktails and we danced, chatted up Koreans and took tequilas late into the night. When the music died down and some of our crew started to fade, it was time to go home. 

We rose late next morning, and headed to Daecheon beach. After getting sufficiently hot and sweaty, we dunked our bodies into the cool sea, which was gloriously refreshing, and laughed as countless vendors passed yelling “chiccccken!”.

A man floated past us on a rubber ring. As he spun over a small wave we saw he was playing on his phone. On a tube. In the sea. #classickorea.

Later that afternoon we returned home - sunburnt, sated and thoroughly spent. 

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #10: Getting wet by Georgina Selander

Getting Wet by Georgina Selander

We all know that movie scene. It goes something like this:

a)     A shaggy-haired teenager hops over the neighbour’s fence to visit his girlfriend and….

b)    A dumb robber (think Home Alone) attempts a stealthy break-in and….

…out dashes a snapping yap-dog – breaking the silence and incriminating the intruder.

---

Last Sunday, after spending most of the day in bed, I decided it was time to venture outside. It so happens that the highlight of social entertainment in my town boils down to a few cramped bars and a handful of supermarkets. Being a Sunday, my boozing options were limited – so shopping it was!

So off I went, trekking up the hill, over the intersection, past the elementary school and towards the local GS25 supermarket.

Being the highpoint of the day’s enjoyment, I wanted to take my time – spend a leisurely hour or so roaming the aisles, consulting ramyeon packets, trying to decipher the Korean wording on packages, or pretending to be planning a recipe for a well-to-do husband waiting at home.

No such luck. Korean store attendants have a habit of following you around – a most overly helpful habit. (Beauty stores are a nightmare when you just want to try on all the free samples and a teller follows your every move. In these cases, I end up feeling obliged to buy something useless and cheap that I don’t really want – like a tacky lip icekey chain.).

Fish counter

The first interesting sight – a repeat source of amusement in these instances – was the fish counter. If you can get over the smell and the eyeballs, there’s always an interesting creature or two. A common sight is live octopus (eating squirmy raw octopus is in fact a Korean delicacy). There are usually also some phallic-looking sea cucumbers or an aquarium of crabs. 

On this particular trip I discovered a group of squids, bobbing up and down in the cold water. I watched them for ages, until my front-row seat was taken over by an equally interested 4-year old.

Squid

Next stop: the meat counter. I’ve recently located chicken breasts in Korean supermarkets – a versatile ingredient to have in the fridge (and a regular meal back home). Just moments after locating said chicken, a handsome Korean man strolls over.

“Can I help you? What are you looking to buy?”

Considering there are only whole chickens, breasts and beef strips on the shelf, this conversation is really unnecessary.

“Umm I just want to make something for dinner…Maybe bulgogi?” I reply.

I spy another glance. He really is very handsome. Why of all possible days, was today the day I decided to venture out sans make-up and sans bra. I suck my stomach in a little.

“For how many?” he enquires.

“Two,” I respond.

What a joke. It’s literally just me. Eating for two. Again.

“This should be enough then,” he says, lifting up a packet of beef strips.

I had no intention of buying this. I lower it into my basket with a cheesy grin. I linger a second longer.

“Are you American,” he asks? (This is such a common question here you’d think white people only lived in the big ol' US of A).

“No, I’m from South Africa,” I reply.

“Oh okay! I was in Chicago last year!”

Huh?

“Umm cool…”

He looks at me like I should mention something about the place– like my favourite Chicago deep-dish pizza restaurant (poef). All I can think of is a Sopranos accent. And I’m pretty sure that’s not even right. I take it as my cue to leave, wondering if I should circle aisle 7 until I can safely put the meat back.

Anyway, as most shopping trips go – where I plan to buy just one or two ingredients to complement my household supplies – I come back with 400 000 won worth of goodies.  Including the meat I didn’t want.

Laden with two overflowing shopping bags, I decide to explore the other side of town and take a detour home.

15 minutes in, I realise I’m walking through a residential area and the usual landmarks are nowhere in sight.

Realising I should double back and head towards more familiar surroundings, I take a narrow lane in the direction of the supermarket.

Cursing the ghastly humidity, I carry on. It starts to rain. Soon I am drenched in both rain and sweat. 

As I round the corner, a prophetic sign rushes towards me in the form of two stricken teenage boys. They duck into an alley. I quickly see why they are running – a golden-haired yap-dog is speeding towards me, teeth gnashing and nails clipping the tarmac.

I turn on my heels and run. My two shopping bags bob awkwardly at my sides.

When the sound of the tiny yapper dies away, I drop my bags of sodden groceries and laugh. Who cares if I get wet?

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #3: “I am going to make things simple for my teacher,” said no one, ever. by Shannon Norman

“I am going to make things simple for my teacher,” said no one, ever. - by Shannon Norman

There is no need for me to point out the obvious. We all know that everyone is different. But I AM going to point out the obvious – EVERYONE is different! 

Since working at The Knowledge Workshop, I’ve had to juggle many different student personalities. I’ve also come to realise that students won’t necessarily always agree with the way the teacher does things. Yes, I said it. Sometimes, your students want to be the teacher because they have their own idea as to how English should be taught and this mindset is like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Is there a specific way you should handle this sort of situation? I don’t know if there is ONE way, but I think, as a teacher, you’ve got to go with your gut, a lot of the time. 

What happened, you may be thinking. I’ll tell you. 

Learning is not limited to the classroom. If it was, then I’d be quite disappointed. So, every now and again (typically on a Friday), I absolutely love to remove my students from the classroom and plonk them in a situation they can’t experience in class. But this is where shit hit the fan – luckily not literally. 

I planned to take my students on an “Obs walkabout” seeing as our theme for the week was “experiences”. After hearing my plan, one of my students said that he thought the class would benefit more from conversations in class as opposed to ones out on the streets. Basically, he just hated on my outing idea and hinted at it being rubbish. I could feel myself getting defensive and that’s when that gut feeling I was telling you about kicked in. I can’t describe it, but I knew what to say…

Students on the Obs walk-about

“There is nothing more valuable, in my eyes, than placing you guys in an authentic English situation, where you will not only speak to your classmates and hear my accent, but you’ll speak to other people with different accents. Yes, this can happen on your way home, or while you’re shopping, but at least we can experience it together and I can guide you and you can ask me questions.”

Thankfully, one of my other students had my back and tried convincing that particular student, and another student (bloody pressure) that it was going to be great.

Anyway, after a successful outing, the students in doubt walked away with a smile on their faces and realised how beneficial it was to expose themselves to the beautiful, but annoying language we all call, English. 

But, the dark days didn’t end there. Another little something happened…. I started to notice just how distracting devices were becoming in the classroom. There were two students who were very quick to rely on their device for translation. I let it slide once or twice in the beginning, but I quickly realised that this was a no-go. I then spoke to Marian and we agreed on a rule: no devices in the classroom. So, the next day I politely informed the class of the new rule. I explained to them that using a device every other second was only going to destroy their confidence and it would ruin their strategic ability in the language. I also told them that they were not always going to have this “magic wand” with them and that they should rather concentrate on developing their competency from the get-go. 

Let’s put it this way, I wasn’t their best person, especially when I said that they were only to use a paper-based dictionary. “It’s the 21^st century,” so I was told. Nevertheless, I stuck to my decision and I made it explicit that they were more than welcome to use their “best friends” outside of the classroom, but while they were in my classroom, this rule was going to stay. Tough love, right? 

Shannon in the classroom

Would you believe it, a few weeks later, I caught one of my students using his phone in the middle of the lesson. I proceeded to ask what he was doing, and before I knew it a metaphorical cloud of smoke appeared in front of me – something had exploded. And that, my friends, was my student. He got so mad, an army tank might as well have been in the classroom, destroying everything in its path. That old saying, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out the kitchen,” needed to be applied. After my student and I exchanged some words, I casually left the classroom and had a slight meltdown. Don’t worry, if this happens to you it’s not a sign of weakness – everything but. However, this battle was a long time coming. I gathered my thoughts while in the comfort of my mentor and then stepped back inside as if nothing was wrong. This was difficult…this was so difficult! But it needed to be done. Immediately my student’s attitude changed. I then realised that stepping out the classroom was the best thing I could possibly have done. I had time to think, he had time to think and most of all, he realised that how he had spoken to me was no way to speak to a teacher; or ANYONE for that matter. 

Despite these turn of events, our teacher-student relationship improved to the point where we were able to laugh about the “no device rule”.  We developed a really good bond and that’s what teaching is all about I guess – learning through discovery. Building rapport with your students can come in many different forms and I’ve come to realise that the hard way. Therefore, my advice to you: pick a fight with your students, it’s what you need. 

(I’m joking. Don’t do this, but if it happens – it’ll be for the best). 

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #1: Who am I? by Shannon Norman

Who am I? - by Shannon Norman

Who am I?

If you’ve never asked yourself this question, you’re either lucky or naïve. So, who am I? As clichéd as this might sound, I’m not sure. But I’m getting there. What I’m meant to be discovering right now is not all that clear, but I’m certainly learning more than I anticipated.

I do have a few details to share with you though. Before I get started – take off your shoes, feel amused for I’m about to take you on a quick cruise. I’ll start with the usual – my name is Shannon Norman, I’m corny and almost 23 years old. I can’t draw, but I like to think that I’m creative. I hate peas, but I love my cat, Jeffrey, even though I’m allergic to him and every other cat.  I’m as Capetonian as can be, except I care about being late. I did, however, live in Johannesburg for a year and a bit – so at least I’ve managed to experience life outside of Cape Town. If you think that you haven’t travelled enough and feel slightly embarrassed about it, meet me and you’ll feel a whole lot better. I’ve been almost nowhere.  And yes, you guessed it. I haven’t been overseas – not even to Robben Island! :)

Anyway! I started the TEFL course at The Knowledge Workshop (TKW) on the 24^th of November 2014 and graduated on the 19^th of December 2014. I used to be a Content Marketer and Social Media Community Manager, but resigned a month before I started the course at TKW. I knew deep down that letting go of the known and embracing the unknown was what I needed. A ‘TEFL adventure’ sounded perfect to me. Older, wiser people in my life always suggested this “teaching English” thing, but never did I think that they knew exactly what I needed to be doing. Perhaps there are a few people out there who know you better than yourself…

As soon I stepped into the wooden-floored classroom and met the people that I would be surrounding myself with for the next three weeks, I knew that I was doing the right thing. And the more exposure I got to the course content, alarms started setting off in my head; a voice spoke to me: “Shannon – this is totally the right thing, girlfriend. You’ve just made the best decision of your life. High-five!” After that, everything felt right. 

English Teacher. Nice to meetcha.

So, what happened after I completed the TEFL course? Well, besides the fact that it opened my mind and forced me to think differently about the English language and life in general (I’m serious); I became a teacher at TKW. Escalate quickly much?  But thanks to this escalation of fabulous events, my learning and discovering is increasing by the second. So, a big thank you goes out to TKW. 

Now, it’s been almost two months and I haven’t looked back. If you want to find out what it’s like teaching English in South Africa and what my travel plans are for the near future, stay tuned for there are more of these to follow!

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #3 - by Georgina Selander

Inspired insights from a TEFL teacher

Cultivating confidence

We’ve all encountered that teacher. And this has nothing to do with awkward dress sense (grandpa sweaters made a comeback, right?) but more about the palm-sweating, word-swallowing, eye-contact-avoiding type. The teacher whose shyness so overwhelms them that the spectacle that plays out is uncomfortable to watch.

Professing to be no self-help guru, (and a repeat-offender of awkwardness myself) I can’t tell you exactly what it takes to be self-assured. What I do know is that, standing in front of your class (wherever it may be) has earned you your stripes. You’re past the point of good impressions – it’s just a matter of living up to them.

So my advice to you would be: own your space.

When I first began teaching at The Knowledge Workshop, there were inevitably some first-time jitters. I wasn’t sure if I was really competent enough to take up this experience, or to be the captain of the proverbial classroom ship. But over time, I learnt to trust in myself and my ability. I learnt that my role didn’t require a complete personality shift – but rather allowing my unique teacher brand to shine through.

It goes without saying that we’re all distinctive individuals. And the beauty of this is that, because of that, we come to the classroom with our own set of interests, and a unique repertoire of cultural experience. So let that be your guide.

As a writer, I’ve often been told that the best place to start is with what you know. Applying that to teaching means that whatever your background – football fundi, food enthusiast or artist extraordinaire – there is a way to incorporate your personal skillset into the classroom.

Bring in materials that you’re knowledgeable about and interested in – and your personal passion will motivate your students. An inspired and insightful teacher is always a memorable one.

That being said, we also tend to be our harshest critics. When things don’t pan out as expected, or a game doesn’t garner the wide-eyed enthusiasm you’d hoped for, don’t let this bring you down. If anything, it’s an opportunity to assess what kinds of materials your class finds stimulating. And there’s no harm in re-working a previous activity to greater effect.

Don’t let perfectionism or self-doubt put you in a prickly perch. Even if it requires ten minutes of slow breathing before entering the classroom, or a morning mirror mantra telling yourself how absolutely fabulous you are (because you are).

It’s not that we all need to be the Regina George of the classroom. Heaven knows it’s taken me a long road to work on my sense of self-assurance. But it’s a process with a surprising domino effect – once you feel comfortable in your classroom skin, the rest will come so much easier.

So much of my life was dictated by an internal dialogue of unworthiness. Until I realised I needed to change my personal pep-talk.

So remember this:

You’re the captain of your ship. The master of your sail. Trust me, you got this.

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog post #1 - by Georgina Selander

Inspired insights from a TEFL teacher 

I guess it goes without saying that the hardest part of any challenge is just getting started. And so, when tasked with creating a ‘confessions-of-an-EFL-teacher’ style blog, I spent several minutes staring at a blank screen, wondering where to begin.

But now that I’ve cleared my throat, got the first words onto the page, let’s start with the basics.

My name is Georgina Selander. I’m 23-years-old. And I’m currently working as an EFL teacher for The Knowledge Workshop.

Arriving at this state was a potluck decision. After reaching the end of my tether at a series of boring desk jobs, I decided that the 9-5 grind wasn’t for me. At least for the time-being. 

Yes, I’m young and still figuring it out. And yes, I have no idea what to say when asked, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” But who really knows anyway? It’s the journey, not the destination that makes life worthwhile.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a desire to explore; a thirst for knowledge and experience that, at times, took me to the limits of my sanity.

As a child, I spent hours swept up in imaginative games – hiding out in a dark cupboard pretending to be adrift in space or meticulously constructing ‘fairy gardens’ with an assortment of glittery trinkets.

And although the character of these made-up worlds varied daily, there was a common thread – an interest in the unexplored and a desire to visit places unknown.

Perhaps it was this, in addition to the rebellion towards office humdrum that brought me to the steps of an Observatory-based language school called The Knowledge Workshop.

In truth, it was also a longing for something fresh, and the promise of worldwide adventure. And although I’d never seriously considered a career in teaching before, once my three-week TEFL course was over, I was hesitant to leave.

It has now been five months since I walked through the door of this special school. Five months since I nervously climbed the flight of stairs and set foot inside. Five months since the school’s director asked me to “stay on to take some classes”. And I’ve never looked back.

I began teaching at The Knowledge Workshop in September 2014. Although having just completed my TEFL certificate, I had little idea of what to expect – of the life-long friendships I was to form with my co-workers and students, or of the unknowably enriching experiences that I would have.

Each day has brought a host of surprises. I have grown more as a human being and as a ‘working professional’, than I ever anticipated. And it’s a journey that continues to reward and amaze me, every step of the way. 

In the entries that follow, I’ll share with you the moments of triumph – but also the trying times, the – arguably hard-pressed – occasions in which I was once again a child adrift in space. But most all, I’ll try to capture, as authentically as I can, what it means to be an EFL teacher. 

Several months on, it’s hard to remember exactly those first few classes – or the first late nights spent vigorously planning. But I do remember feeling as if I’d found a perfect fit – akin to slipping on a ‘little black number’ that hugs in all the right places and instantly makes you feel like you could rule a small country.

When I look back on those first lesson plans, what I see is someone eager to please, unsure of whether I was ‘doing the right thing’. But I needn’t have worried – the relaxed atmosphere of The Knowledge Workshop and jovial camaraderie of the students soon set me at ease.

I do remember one of those first classes – a lesson (under the week-long theme of ‘hoaxes and conspiracy theories’) about the 1969 American moon landing. With a bit of prompting, I opened the floor to discussion – and was amazed at the level of critical thinking and insight given from a classroom of mainly high school graduates.

We soon found ourselves in rigorous discussion (and occasional fits of laughter as preposterous theories came to the fore) and, for the rest of the week, there was a keenness among the students to share their points of view.

It was that lesson that really broke any perceived barriers down – that gave me the feeling that this newfound family was the place for me to test boundaries, rouse educated discussion and really get my students talking. The intention was never a history lesson, or a study in anti-establishment feeling, but the playful nature of the class – and those to follow – masked the difficulty of the day’s challenging grammar (subject-verb agreement).

I came home that evening buoyed by a feeling of happiness and surety that I’d found that ‘perfect fit’. 

written for The Knowledge Workshop by Georgina Selander