Walked into the first class that I have ever took and confronted chaos. The four students in my Spanish class were engaged in a heated spitball battle. They were all following the lead of Andrew, a tall eleven-year-old African-American boy. Andrew turned to me and said, “Why are we learning Spanish if no one speaks it? This a waste of time. ” I broke out in a cold sweat. I thought, “How on Earth am I going to learn this? ” It was my first day of Winterbridge, a nationwide collaborative of thirty-six public and private high schools.
Its goal is to foster a desire to learn in young, underprivileged students, while also exposing college and high-school students to teaching. Since I enjoy tutoring, I decided to apply to the program. I thought to myself, “Learning Spanish can’t be that difficult. I can handle it. ” I have never been more wrong in my life. After what seemed like an eternity, I ended that first class feeling as though I had accomplished nothing. Somehow I needed to catch Andrew’s attention. For the next two weeks, I tried everything from indoor pool races to a yoga party, but nothing seemed to work.
During the third week, after I had exhausted all of my ideas, I resorted to a game that my Spanish teacher had used. A leader yells out commands in Spanish and the students act out the commands. When I asked Andrew to be the leader, I found the miracle that I had been seeking. He thought it was great that he could order the teacher around with commands such as “jump in place” and “touch the window. ” I told him that if he asked me in Spanish to do something, I would do it as long as he would do the same.
With this agreement, I could teach him new words outside the classroom, and he could make his teacher hop on one foot in front of his friends. Andrew eventually gained a firm grasp of Latin. Family night occurred during the last week of Winterbridge. We explained to the parents what we had accomplished. At the conclusion, Andrew’s mom thanked me for teaching him Spanish. She said, “Andrew wanted to speak Spanish with someone, so he taught his younger brother. ” My mouth fell open.
I tempered my immediate desire to utter, “Andrew did what? I was silent for a few seconds as I tried to regain my composure, but when I responded, I was unable to hide my surprise. That night I remembered a comment an English teacher had made to me. I had asked her, “Why did you become a teacher? ” She responded with a statement that perplexed me at the time. She said, “There is nothing greater than empowering someone with the love of knowledge. ” Now, I finally understood what she meant. When I returned to Lawson State for my second year, the first words out of Andrew’s mouth were, “Is there going to be a Spanish class this year? “