A group of English teachers from Argentina arrived on our campus today to see what teaching English in America is like. I couldn't believe my students' reactions to this incursion. They had some legitimate questions like, "Of all the places in the world, Mr. Farley, why did they come to Beaumont?" The emphasis was theirs, not mine. They had some frightening questions like, "Argentina? Is that in West Texas or somethin'?" I had no reply. All in all, though, their questions told a single story over and over again. My students, by and large, despite the current globalization of the human race, are very isolated in their own little world here. They don't see outside. They certainly don't go outside. They often don't seem to realize that there is an outside.
I can't imagine.
I will continue to do my best to keep pointing at the windows, and hope that some more of them unbury their faces and get up and cross the room to see what's out there.
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Seriously, one of my students thought that Argentina was in California. We pulled down the globe and had a discussion. I didn't have the pleasure of having an Argentinean Rotarian (love that name) in my class, but I did get to meet them in the teacher's lounge. They watched me copy and then took a picture of our teacher mailboxes. I was told that they don't even have their own classrooms and must rotate around to other rooms or campuses each day to teach. I have a newfound appreciation for the crappy copy machine and, yes, even our teacher mailboxes.
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