KENTUKIANA 0: Welcome to the 'Wildcats' World

Should I have been nervous about what was coming my way? It was Tuesday, August 22, and the school year was officially beginning. Suddenly there I was, alone, in the classroom of an American school, about to welcome my first group of students. A bunch of schoolkids I had never laid eyes on, each one from a different mold, of every race and creed, some brimming with charm and others with boredom. In fact, the level of uncertainty was such that worrying too much would only muddy the beginning.

Drawing of a 'Wildcat' bursting out of one of the walls of the gym at Newport Intermediate School (Kentucky).

The classroom door remained closed and bolted, just as we had been told to keep it. I stood there as if spellbound, staring at it, at the clear glass looking out onto the lockers in the hallway, savoring those last moments of silence and emptiness, like the ones that precede the roar of battle. I didn't even want to move, lest I be the one to start it. The clamor and the throng of little heads that would pop up behind that glass at any moment would take care of that.

I couldn't detect in myself the slightest sign of unease or tension. I neither felt it nor expected it. Although at another stage of my life even my eyelashes would have been trembling, at this point in the journey I pictured my previous experience like those weathered goalkeeper's gloves you break in as the school years go by like league seasons and the classes like cup finals.

as the school years go by like league seasons

and the classes like cup finals.

Students are pretty crafty and are constantly putting you to the test; they send so many balls into your box that you don't even see them coming. Most of them you save acrobatically (that's where your years on the pitch show), some even with your face (when you put your body on the line or they break some personal belonging of yours, like your guitar), others you deflect wide however you can, and there are even the ones you knock into your own net (when you can't remember their names or start losing your cool). The worst is when you see that what you prepared for class isn't working; then you reach for a plan B, C, or even Z if need be. Anything to keep the 'goal parade' from starting, because in that case some will begin to get bored while the ringleaders of the coup spring into action to stir up the revolt (they'll fight, they'll trade insults, they'll get out of their seats), turning the whole thing into a great cauldron of emotions. Meanwhile, you as the referee don't know whether to show a yellow card, a red one, an orange one, call the medics, call security, or summon the goddess Fortune herself to come down and lend you a hand. On top of all this, to avoid hyperventilating and ending up losing your head, I recommend calming down, not taking anything personally, and not getting too caught up in their games. Such are the goals of experience, precisely the ones that mold and train us as teachers and prepare us to play, at any given moment, the role of actor, psychologist, clown, mentor, referee, singer, switchboard operator, police officer, detective, rocker, rapper, judge, waiter, nurse, translator, photocopy expert, Darth Vader, big brother, and even a shoulder to cry on if need be. All for education! Though I wasn't very aware of any of this until the first days went by and I started taking the first rounds of shrapnel.

such are the goals of experience, precisely the ones that mold and train us as teachers and prepare us to play, at any given moment, the role of actor, psychologist, clown, mentor, referee, singer, switchboard operator, police officer, detective, rocker, rapper, judge, waiter, nurse, translator, photocopy expert, Darth Vader, big brother, and even a shoulder to cry on if need be.

The seconds ticked by, then the minutes, and still there was no sign of those little creatures.

That was when I cast my mind back a few days and began to think about everything we had lived through during the training days, the days leading up to the start of classes. Ten daily sessions of intensive preparation was the price we all paid. One of the things that struck me most was, without a doubt, that it took place in the height of summer, in August — because in Kentucky, the 2023-2024 academic year ran from late August to late May.

Consequently, the training course had stretched from August 8 to 21, that last day being one of the most fondly remembered thanks to its moving closing ceremony.

It took place in the auditorium of the Newport high school, with quite an original event, very much in the American style: the instructional-motivational talk that the superintendent, Mr. Bolt, gifted us that final morning.

Main entrance of the Newport high school (Kentucky).

Coming out of the lecture, I felt I had enough morale and courage in me to start the very next day. However, it was only an adrenaline rush, since these talks weren't repeated very often and their lysergic, empowering effect would soon wear off. That 'speech' would have fit perfectly into the format of the famous TED talks, whose maxim is to convey 'whatever is worth being known'. Well, there we all were, worthy of knowing everything Mr. Bolt wished to convey to us. He invited us to reflect on new ways of approaching different situations at school and to reconsider the student as a person we can help to grow: —The community needs you, we need you—, he kept repeating; —we trust you—. Words spoken in a sincere and captivating way. It lasted about two hours and was neither boring nor a mere monologue. There was room for rebuttal, like at an open mic, where you could raise your hand and put forward your point of view. There, surrounded by so many experts, I began to feel like part of the family: the community of the wildcats. Here, each school district is represented by an animal or symbol, which strengthens the feeling of belonging to the group, to the tribe, to the community.

That morning, in the cool early air, I set out from my apartment toward Newport Highschool. When I arrived, I headed straight for one of the outside entrances, where a decoration of red, white, and black balloons (the wildcats' colors), and some indistinct music coming from that very spot, told me that was where I should redirect my steps. Once there, a small but plucky orchestral committee of teachers and students greeted, to the beat of a military march, the triumphant passage of those of us walking by, on our way to the cafeteria for the succulent and varied breakfast the school's buffet had prepared for us: a vegetarian menu and a meat menu, with rolls, omelet, potatoes, fruit, yogurt, nuts, drinks, chocolates, and other sweets.

Instead of going straight in to eat, I stayed to record a few moments of that curious orchestra, and without thinking twice I even joined in, clapping along, marking the downbeats and following the bass drum. The mindset of your average fiesta-loving, merry Spaniard would have missed the well-worn 'Paquito el chocolatero', Georgie Dann's 'Barbacoa', or Peret's 'Muerto vivo'; but we were in the United States, and at least musically, they play — luckily — in another division.

During the talk, Mr. Bolt relied on slides that he advanced himself with a clicker while remaining on his feet, holding forth expressively and movingly before a sizable audience. His elegant, fitted beige vest with a black silk shirt made him all the more admirable. And here they place a lot of importance on the dress code. The teachers also participated quite a lot, more than I would have imagined. Even I put my English into practice and spoke up a couple of times. I shed my stage fright and threw myself in, because it came straight from the soul, to share my views on education — and the room was packed with American teachers, no less. I wouldn't have believed it myself. Who said anything about shyness?

They applauded one another with shouts of praise and other jubilation, both for their own contributions and for Mr. Bolt's flashes of humor, which I obviously barely caught. The Kentucky accent varies a lot, but they say it generally tends to be rough, like a farmer's. Basically, you could easily set it alongside our thickest born-and-bred Andalusian drawl. So you can picture my poker face whenever some 'Kentuckian' from deepest Kentucky chimed in and I couldn't tell whether he was picking on someone or, on the contrary, praising them. Some spoke so fast and so gutturally that I barely caught a bit of the beginning and a bit of the end. But hey, they say it's all a matter of training your ear, and that after three months you start to understand a little, especially from context.

They applauded one another with shouts of praise and other jubilation, both for their own contributions and for Mr. Bolt's flashes of humor, which I obviously barely caught.

Carrying on with the self-applause and other accolades — and let me tell you, here they live it and they believe it — the celebration began to liven up. There was even a partner dance activity that consisted of balancing a pair of pencils between both partners' hands, without letting them fall, while the music played and the dancing began. Laughter started to ring out across the room. Volunteers came forward, and the truth is they did quite well. I was this close to signing up; I just needed a bit more confidence. That's something they have down to a science. There's no fear of ridicule, motivation is never in short supply, and attitude even less so. The event kept revolving around these values, infecting us all with such lofty aims. I know it would feel a little strange for us to replicate this modus operandi, but only at first. It wouldn't hurt us at all to incorporate some of this other way of doing education. At the very least, it would surely be enriching and fun.

It has always amazed me to realize just how much our learning shapes us from the time we are children and teenagers — and we never fully stop being either.

Dear educational community: a child's educational phase is survival for their future. Could you have improved yours? And theirs? The interesting thing is that if we improve theirs, we improve our own, and cyclically this will repeat itself.

A child's educational phase is survival for their future.

Could you have improved yours? And theirs?

- Kentukiana 1: On ‘classroom management‘. 
(Coming Saturday, November 25, 2023).

You can also read:

- Post: 'Down to the Bones (Part I)'. On how it all began.