Making a Difference

If my contribution to La Universidad Libre (where I’ve been teaching for the last 10 months) could be measured in chocolates and goodies, I’d say I contributed rather a lot.  So far this week my students have absolutely showered  me with everything from arroz con leche to hand-written cards to endless cakes and chocolate bars.  Just what I need right; my dress for the wedding in June is what size?   

Wednesday

Unfortunately, chocolate is not a legitimate currency for measuring impact, change, or knowledge exchange.  Helping someone can be a tricky business.  Good intentions are not sufficient.  Sometimes we make a huge effort, we feel that we´ve done well, but actual notable change either in performance, behavior, or some economic statistic goes unachieved, falls short.  It`s like the old cliché of teaching someone to fish rather than fishing for them.  But even a detailed instruction manual, a face-to-face demonstration, or 2 semesters teaching still may not be enough. 

This is one thing that has always frustrated me about volunteerism and non-profit work.  Sometimes, despite everything, it can be a lot of “feel good” and technically not so much “do good.” 

So has my being here for a year made a difference?  Any difference?  That´s what Fulbright gave me the grant for right? 

Well I haven´t been sitting around on my ass that´s for sure.  I`ve poured hours, days, weeks, months of my time into “doing good,” but is there change? 

I honestly don`t know.  I haven`t published anything official (yet), didn`t affect any large-scale organizational change within my university, didn`t change any student`s life, didn’t come close to alleviating poverty, didn`t didn’t didn’t!  

 But I did something.  The following thought sounds annoying to me as it toggles in my brain, as I think it, as I type it.  But it rings true.  Perhaps my greatest contribution this year has been character.  I’ve tried to lead by example in showing my students to have a positive attitude about knowledge and learning, about English and opportunity, about critical thought and challenge.  I’m not a trained teacher, but I have a genuine love for school, the acquisition of knowledge, and the conscientiousness of being a student.  How I transferred the importance of that through grammar, vocabulary, and oral exams, I can’t be sure.  But I think I did. 

  

I “feel good” about my efforts, now let’s just hope I’ve “done good” to boot.

TEACHER MOMENT!

I had a teacher moment today, and I feel impelled to share.  I hate hearing over and over that you really know you love being a teacher when you see the look in a student’s eyes that they understood something - finally got it.  It’s cliché.  But something similar happened to me today and now I guess I have to join the force of the cliché.

 

My students have class from 4-6pm, but they were required to attend some presentations today in the auditorium until 5pm at which point they could leave, go home, chau, hasta la vista baby.  But a group of about 15 of them found me (wandering around looking for a teacher) and asked if we could still have class from five to six.  My reaction… what???  I couldn’t believe it!  My students were given the option to take the afternoon off and they wanted class with me.   And they actively sought me out to ask for it!  Again, what?   Yayyyyyy!  I was so pleased.  We had a little debate and I had them ask questions about modern expressions etc, nothing crazy, but how cool?  I’m the biggest school-loving, teacher’s pet ever and I don’t think even I would have done that.  

I love being a teacher today.

Nosotras Corremos: Nike 5k

Official time recorder chip thingy

Most unfortunately I couldn’t be with my mom this Mother’s Day.  I still wanted to do something “girlie” though.  Get in the spirit at least.  I signed up to run Nike’s 5k called Nosotras Corremos, which translates roughly to We Run, but its feminine, so it’s more like Us Ladies Run.  It was Daniel’s idea actually.  Given that society in many parts of Latin America is still quite male chauvinistic, I was intrigued by the idea of an all women’s race.  Would anyone go?   

Struggle-ville

Every culture has a generic idea of what’s considered the ideal body type.  I like to believe it’s all in the eye of the beholder, but there is one too many psychology studies to prove that a strong general consensus about beauty does exist.  The standards in Colombia are pretty darn high.  Medellin, the second largest city in the country, is the plastic surgery capital of the world.  It only costs around $500 to get a standard boob-job, so lots of women go for it.  A picture is worth a thousand words.   Check out this mannequin.  Need I say more?   And this is standard.

Wowzas!

Ready to Run

The shirt they gave out for the event was adorable, a highly motivating factor, and they almost immediately ran out of Smalls.  Figures, I thought, women here tend to like unnaturally tight clothing.  And I bet everyone will show up in a push-up bra to boot.  As you can see, I was excited for the run, but fairly pessimistic in my expectations.

Celebrating in an Irish Pub afterwards

Race day came and went.  I finished in 29 minutes, 361 out of 2,000, a near glacial pace, but hey, I blame the altitude.  (Ha.) Mostly, I was impressed; proved wrong.  Two thousand women at 7am on a Sunday (Mother’s Day nonetheless) is a reputable turnout.  And they were movin’!  Sure there were a few classics with booty shorts, black push-up bras, and the shirt rolled way up, but they were the minority.  It was a genuine, heart-felt, girl power experience. 

Well done Nike.  Well done Bogota.

Post Race - lookin' pretty rough