Forging New Connections

A few days ago I was contacted by an IB Alumni Organization representative (my sister's boss at the Fulbright Institute in Brussels, Belgium)  who was eager to hear about my current teaching experiences as a former IB student. As the popularity of IBO programs continues to spread across the globe, more and more of the "new generation" of educators these days are former IB students. When I was a high school student, I had thought that the IB was just an "international schools' thing". Having grown up overseas my entire life, I was certain that this rigorous program was only available to those of us fortunate enough to attend international schools. Until I went to college, I had no idea that the IB had been rapidly gaining popularity in American schools. 

This past summer, after I signed my contract to come and teach at the American International School in Riyadh, I was given the incredible privilege of  attending a IBO teaching workshop at the United Nations International School in New York. 

As a former IB English student, I was tickled at the opportunity to "jump the fence" and approach this favorite school subject of mine from a teacher's perspective. I childishly felt as though I was about to be initiated into some secret club. 

It is quite an incredible experience teaching a course that you have gone through yourself as a student. The first thing I did when I realized that I would be teaching IB English at my new school was call my Mom and ask her to bring me my enormous IB HL English binder from home.  I have never thrown away a single textbook, binder or notebook. As I perused the hundreds of pages of notes, worksheets, extracts, essay drafts and final papers that I meticulously had organized and preserved, I was immediately brought back to my days as a student. Though I was very nervous about becoming an "IB" teacher, I made a promise to myself that I would teach my students from their perspective. What I mean by this is that I decided I would put myself in their shoes; I would remember my not-too-long-ago-days as an IB student, and teach them the material from a student-centered angle as opposed to a teacher-centered one.

It is very easy for teachers to get caught up in teaching a course to their own preferences and liking.We teachers have our favorite topics and lessons and as a result of this intrinsic bias we may not always put our students needs ahead of our own.  Especially when it is a challenging course that we may be still struggling to gain confidence in. Its only natural. Most English teachers teach several different courses at once and after a while it just becomes easier to just teach according to one's own needs and desires, as opposed to the needs and desires of our students. Is that fair? No, of course not. But it is a reality of the job that many teachers, like myself, acknowledge and strive to remedy. 

Before I begin talking about the ways in which my IB education has influenced my life and career, I'd like to provide a short introduction about how I got to become an IB teacher:

** (I wrote this essay two days ago after I was first contacted by Ali, the IBO Alum Connections representative for the Middle East) 

Teaching IB English in the Middle East

(A Former IB Students’ Perspective)

It was barely a month before my college graduation that I received my first teaching job offer. Fresh out of college with my teaching license and bachelor of art’s diploma hot off the press, I began my life as an educator in a Title I public school in Boston, Massachusetts.

For two years I taught the toughest and most challenging students in the states. Students that had been in and out of juvie, foster homes, prison and homeless shelters. Students that everyone had given up on. Students that had given up on themselves. Every day I drove to work with a bright and shiny smile on my face and every day I drove home with my hair bunched up in knots and shoulders slumped down low from exhaustion. I loved my job. It was, without a doubt, the hardest job in the world. How does one prove the relevance of studying Shakespeare in the 21^st century when your students live in constant fear of getting arrested or jumped after school? How does one describe the message of the beauty of simple living in Thoreau’s essay “Walden” to a population of students on welfare?  I struggled, I fought, I cried, I doubted myself, but those two years of teaching in a failing public school district taught me more about teaching than I had learned in four years of college and thirteen years of secondary school.

However, as much as I loved my job and the ways it challenged me to be the best, the universe had different plans for me.

One day in February, a little over halfway into my second year of teaching, my fate was changed forever. The superintendent of the American International School in Riyadh came to Boston and wanted to meet with me. I had attended AIS-R from grades 3-7. My parents, being dedicated international educators, raised my sister and I in international schools for our entire lives. I had nothing but the fondest of memories of my childhood years spent in Saudi Arabia. Images of sand dunes, camping trips, sports events, sleepovers, security checks, carpet markets and camels flashed before my eyes as I sat down with my parents’ former-colleague, the current “head” of my most favorite international school. As we reminisced about our shared memories and updated one another on our lives in the past eleven years since my family moved away from Saudi, I completely forgot about the fact that February is “recruiting season” for international schools. As I sat there rambling on and on about my love for education and the work I do with my students, I could see Brian smiling. I always get carried away when talking about education; it is my love and passion and purpose in life.

“Well, I have a high school English teaching position available. If you want it its yours.”

I stopped breathing.

What? Was I just offered a job at one of the best international schools in the Middle East? Did he just tell me “its mine” like one would say “take the last bite of dessert”?

I looked down in front of me. The dessert plates had been cleared. The table was empty. He obviously wasn’t telling me to go ahead and have one more bite of chocolate molten lava cake (which was delicious, by the way).

No. This wasn’t a joke, this wasn’t a nicety, this was real. He was asking me if I wanted to come and work in Riyadh.

As I reflect upon that evening now, certain moments are blurred. I honestly don’t remember what the first words were that came out of my mouth. I think I could hardly believe my ears. Regardless of what my specific verbal response was, my desire was clear as day:

“YES!”

“More than anything!”

Saudi Arabia was my dream place. I had always fantasized about returning to the Kingdom but due to their ban on tourism, I never thought I’d be able to. My dreams about returning to Saudi Arabia were just that – dreams. Its difficult to describe or communicate with others the power that country has over me. I’ve never been happier in any other place on earth than I was in Saudi Arabia. True, it was an innocent and simple time in my life. I was a child, I had no obligations or responsibilities. I had loving and supportive parents and not a care in the world. But it wasn’t the innocence of life I so cherished in Saudi Arabia, it was the place itself. It was the constant sunshine, the warm breezes, the vast expanses of sand dunes just beyond the city borders that make you think the world could go on forever. It was the melodic call to prayer five times a day – that incomprehensible guttural chant that comforted my irreligious soul.

Without a doubt in my mind, or even a heartbeat’s hesitation I accepted my friend’s offer: I was moving to Saudi Arabia.

********** 

I have now been living in Riyadh for seven months and while I am working harder than I ever thought possible, I am also happier than I could have ever thought possible.

Unlike working in the challenging environment of my former public school, at AIS-R I am challenged professionally as opposed to personally. The students who attend this school are hard-working, driven, motivated and well-educated. True, there are a handful of students I must push to be more successful, but overall, my students are shining examples of what a good education and supportive family can do to a child.  

I am constantly amazed by my students: by their insights, thoughts, reflections, opinions, creativity and passion. As a result, I feel as though I must constantly strive to provide them with a classroom environment that will challenge them and push them to new levels of greatness and success. My students are by no means perfect. Unfortunately, since my previous teaching experiences were characterized by some of the lowest achieving students in the world, I find it very difficult to view my students here objectively.  For the first week of school I didn’t assign any homework because in my previous school not a single student would do it. I’ll never forget the sheer excitement and surprise I felt after distributing my first assignment and having every single student turn it in the next day.

I have learned so much in just seven months. I feel as though I could fill volumes if I were to attempt to describe every experience and lesson I have gleaned from just a little over half a year of working here. The support, encouragement and praise I have received from my administrative team and colleagues have been tantamount to my success. I was never told how good a teacher I was in my former school: I was only told what I could do better. I honestly believe that one of this school’s greatest qualities is the positive and supportive professional community they have worked hard to foster. No teacher is perfect; no matter how many years of experience one may have under their belt, we must all continue to try new things and learn from our mistakes and adapt to new techniques. But it is almost impossible to get better and grow as a teacher if you are never told that you are doing well. As a young teacher I feel like this is rather obvious logic but I’ve met many administrators and educational leaders who have forgotten (or have stopped caring) about this simple act of kindness.

It’s simple: if you praise a teacher, they will gain confidence, and if they have confidence then they will be more willing to take risks, try new things and learn from their failures. If you do not praise teachers they will become riddled with self-doubt, will lose the motivation to improve, will not take risks and they will not learn from their failures.