Frost bitten.

So, this week I taught another day at Gage Prep, which went surprisingly well, based off how my first day went. Since I still don’t know most of the students’ names, I decided to pick out students at random and ask them to read. About halfway through the lesson one of the teachers in the room walked to the front and handed me a piece of paper which read, “Do NOT call on: the girl in the blue sweater to your left, the three boys and one girl in the back right corner.” This caught me a bit off guard, wondering exactly what might have happened if I had indeed called on them. After class the teacher informed me that those students had never learned to read. There I was trying to teach these students all about how to analyze science passages and understand charts and graphs, only to find out that some of the students didn’t even know how to read.

Thursday I began teaching at Bogan High School, a high school about twenty blocks south of Gage Prep. The former teacher had quit after just two sessions there, so I was a bit hesitant to begin. After making my way through the metal detector I found my way to the classroom. This was an after-school class, so it contained about fifteen students that had chosen to sign up for the class and seemed to be more encouraged to learn. About ten minutes into class a fight broke out in the hallway just outside my door and I became silent. “Am I supposed to go out there and handle this?” I asked my students. “No, you better stay inside,” Darius answered, “We don’t want you to get hurt.”

Thursday night I met up for drinks with Juan, a Mexican man I found on Craigslist who was looking to learn English. I am trying to learn Spanish, so I figured a language exchange with him would be ideal. It turned out Juan wasn’t as young as I anticipated, but our exchange went well and we decided to continue teaching one another once a week.




I am going to preface the remainder of this post by describing the current weather here in Chicago. The weather these past few days has averaged at a solid 10 degrees, with the wind chill making it feel like 1 degree. Despite wearing a bottom layer of spandex everywhere I go, I am constantly going numb in my toes, fingers and even my mouth. When a man asked me a question at the bus stop, it took all the energy I had to part my lips and respond. So, returning home on Thursday night to find that the heat in our apartment had broken wasn’t the best of surprises. As I sit here and write this, I am bundled up in layers upon layers with my winter coat, hat, scarf and gloves to top it off. I feel like I put a spell on myself from complaining so much about the cold. Let’s just say, I will never complain again…