They came clutching reminders of their homeland wrapped in brightly coloured cotton, huddled together on a boat, fearful yet excited for the land and adventures that lay ahead and hopeful that...
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Hitting the teaching jackpot
It’s the end of another school year, and that has me wondering yet again how I ever became a teacher. I took a job teaching English because I found it difficult to be a full-time journalist and raise two small children by myself. It was a miracle that I ever got a chance to teach, considering I had neither an English degree nor a degree in education.
Chalk up my chance at teaching to my degree in anthropology. All those courses in anthropological linguistics served me well, along with my background in journalism, technical writing and fiction writing. Over the years I thought of teaching as a noble challenge. I happened to be most intrigued by students who struggled in school. I wanted to find out why students struggle to write, and I wanted to pass on my love for literature.
It didn’t take me long to realise that students who struggled in writing usually had great, untapped gifts—a visual or tactile sense buried like a diamond in the rough waiting to be excavated.
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