Scaffolding

There, it actually happened. After a year and something of dealing with extra practice, extra hours of corrections, mock exams and adolescent self-esteem, three of my so called 'good-for-nothing' students passed the First Certificate. I can't even begin to tell you how proud I felt when I knew. These kids have taken longer than usual to sit the exam, simply because they weren't ready before. Not being ready for something doesn't mean you'll never get around to doing it, but for some reason, nowadays, at least in the school I work, these two concepts are, sadly, related.

Student number one, for instance, is a lovely girl. She's sweet, she's nice, she helps others when she can, she cares about her younger brother... The thing is, until last year, she didn't know what she wanted to do with her life. I told her it was alright, she wasn't even sixteen and she had her whole life ahead of her. For some reason or other, she seemed to click with me and in a matter of months she had decided -against all odds- that she wanted to learn as many languages as possible and go into the hotel management business. As she told me, I tried to imagine her in that kind of environment and I thought she was the right kind of person for it: patient, kind, organized... Why not? Anything that motivates them is a motivation for me. And that goal has definitely helped her stay focused during my classes. Not only did she pass the FCE, but with a B grade! She couldn't believe me when I told her. I've never seen her smile wider.

Student number two is one of those teenage guys with a hieratic expression on their faces. Too cool to be bothered by anything or anyone. I was actually warned against this one. Too strange, they said, too independent. Once I got to know him it was clear that what he wanted was just for us to leave him alone. There is an older sister in the picture. Although I've never met her, her presence just seems to linger everywhere around him. 'She's so much smarter than him, so much nicer, so much better'. How is someone supposed to be smart, and nice, and good, when you're telling them from the start they will never rival their older siblings? Why try? Would you take an exam if you already knew the examiner will fail you? Would you go to the supermarket if you knew it was closed? Why bother? That's precisely the only thing that was wrong with this kid. Once I managed to make him understand he was still someone to expect good things from, everything changed. Apart from being one of the most goal-oriented students I've had, he was funny as hell.

Lastly, student number three. A piece of work, that one. But still lovely. One of those awkward teens who don't seem accustomed to their frames, as if their limbs were too long and their shoulders too broad. With a humongous lack of self-esteem. He seems to go unnoticed by everyone, just being average at everything. He hardly ever volunteers for anything. One day, I caught him drawing during the lesson. I did tell him off for not paying attention, of course, but I couldn't help to notice that he was an amazing artist. The picture he was drawing was magnificent. I was quite surprised, honestly, because he never stood out in anything. We talked about this and I told him he could try and pursue a career related to his aptitudes. Months later, he decided he wanted to study design.

The thing is, after four terms together, they had to leave my FCE preparation class and join the CAE one. I didn't think it would make me this sad to watch them leave, but it's kind of heartbreaking. I could barely hold tears back when they hugged me and thanked me for everything. At first I thought I didn't want to sound like one of those over-motivated teachers in films (à la Michelle Pfeiffer or Hillary Swank) but I couldn't help it and I blabbered it all out: that I was proud of everything they had achieved, that I hoped they'd learnt they were capable of doing whatever they wanted and that I'd never forget them. Everything passed in a blur of hugs and teary eyes and promises to come and visit me every day.

I know we'll all move on and eventually they won't even remember me; it's the way it's supposed to be. And it's alright. Even though I can't help to worry about them, as if they were still my responsibility, I know they will be alright. And so will I. For the moment, I still have six other students who think they are quite worthless. Nobody wants these groups because they're lazy, unmotivated and average, but I just happen to think they're the best. Even if it hurts when they go, just knowing you have been a piece of their scaffold makes up for all those hours of work.

What can I say, I just love this job.