lessons from a 5th grade classroom

My friend Mary is a 5th grade teacher at a private school and she recently asked me to come talk to her kids about the Peace Corps. She likes to do things like make her kids write letters to soldiers in Iraq and tries to give them an idea of a world outside of the small, self-entitled one that they are used to. When she first asked me, I initially thought, “I could do that! I have an abundance of wisdom and knowledge that I am happy to pass on to young and impressionable minds. I could be that cool friend of their teacher traveling to some exotic land and 20 years later they would look back at that day, remembering me fondly.” The day before I went into her class, I started thinking about it, realizing I was totally nervous to talk to 11 year olds. What was I going to say? What if they didn’t care? And worst of all, what if I wasn’t entertaining? Suddenly, I was questioning my abundant wisdom and knowledge, very aware of how sometimes it’s much easier it is to talk to “grownups” rather than kids, especially when you don’t really know what you’re doing.
Ready or not, the fateful day came and I made my way to the classroom to pretend I knew what I was doing and to inspire the future generation. I gave them a two minute introduction to what I was doing, not really knowing what to tell them and how much information to give them, partly because I didn’t even know how to give details about a job that I still don’t understand. When my mind went blank, I decided a Q and A would be the best mode of instruction.
They asked about animals, so I told them about the flying cockroaches and huge spiders that I was recently informed of. Their faces looked like mine when I found out, eyes wide and mouths open, and many of them pushed themselves a few inches back as if to distance themselves from the horrid spiders I was destined face in the near future. I got to tell them about how I wouldn’t have a car for two years but instead would use a bike or public transportation, laughing inside at their looks of disgust and thinking that their idea of public transportation was probably much preferable to what I am about to encounter. I have visions of buses breaking down on creaky and rotting bridges either in blistering heat or pouring down rain. (If it’s going to break down it has to be the worst possible conditions right?) It seemed however, that their main concern was the airplane ride.
Boy in the second row: “How long is the airplane ride?”
Me: “Well, I have to fly to Miami and from there I have a 8 hour flight to Brazil and then a 3 hour flight to Paraguay.” Truthfully, I wasn’t sure that was correct information, I was just repeating the parts I remembered.
Girl sitting next to him: “How long is your flight?”
Heads simultaneously swiveled to stare at her, with looks of disbelief.
Me: “Um, I just answered that question.”
Boy in the back row: “How long is your flight to Miami?”
Me: “Um… I don’t… know. 4… hours?”
Two minutes later… “Why do you have to stop in Brazil?”
I then went into a discussion of international airports and the necessity to fly into an international airport from the United States, you know, one like LAX.
“So why can’t you just fly to Brazil from LAX?”
Me: “Because I have to go to Miami for a day of orientation first.”
Nonobservant girl: “So how long would your flight be if you just flew from LAX to Paraguay?”
Me: “Um, I have no idea.”
Five minutes later, quiet boy on the left: “Will you be able to see the jungle from the airplane?”
Me: “Well, I’ll be flying at night, so probably not, but will be flying over it.”
“So how much of your plane ride is over the ocean?”
Me: “This part of it,” I said, dragging my finger across a map, to show the projected plane ride over the ocean and jungle I wouldn’t be able to see at night.
After about half an hour of discussing my undefined job and flight plans, we called it quits and I was out of the spotlight. Later during their homework time, one girl came up to me and asked, “Um… If you were in danger, would they let you come home?” I smiled and responded with a yes. A look of relief washed over her face and she ran back to her seat smiling, happy to know I wasn’t putting my life in danger by building outhouses. I went home processing the events and questions of the day, laughing at their obsession with airplanes and touched by their concern for my safety. Still reflecting on my previous nervousness, I realized the irony of my thought process. Mary asked me to come to share with them so they could see something past self-entitlement and my main concern was being entertaining. Even more ironic is the fact that part of my reasons for joining the Peace Corps is so that I can see a world outside of myself and help other people. I don’t know if I really did share any of my supposed wisdom or knowledge or if they will remember me in 20 years. Some of them have probably already forgotten me and that’s ok. Hopefully though some of them will remember that there are other people in the world who need help and that it is worth it to endure flying cockroaches, long plane rides over dark jungles, and public transportation in order to do that.