That's Miss Ali To You

As much as I like to be right, I don't have a problem admitting when I'm wrong. So I can say that I may have been wrong in my last post. It was written after four straight hours of researching jobs and sending out resumes and was rather heartily tinged with self-pity.

Well, the day after I wrote that I got a call around 3pm from someone who'd recieved my resume asking if I could come in to teach a class that night. Cut to three hours later and I was singing Old MacDonald while a group of four year old Spanish faces gazed up at me and tried to sing along.

That must have gone well because the next day I found myself teaching an 8-12 year old theater class all in English. The goal of this class is to put on a condensed and sure to be stilted production of West Side Story (but with great accents for the Sharks...and the Jets too, I guess...and Officer Krupke...).

Today I was told I'd be teaching a class at an elementary school where I just had to play games with about 11 kids between 4-7. The class ended up being 19 kids and some of them looked like they probably still wear Pull-Ups at night and on long car rides. My main goal with them wasn't to get them to say "hello" or "goodbye" but just to keep them calm enough that they wouldn't cry or pee themselves.

After that was a small class of seven year olds where I had a staring show down with one of the girls who rolled her eyes and wouldn't respond when I spoke to her. By the end of the class she was singing The Wheels on the Bus at the top of her lungs and doing hand gestures with gusto so I guess I won.

I am now signed up to teach these classes once a week from now until June so it will certainly be an adventure and, if it doesn't kill me, should provide some great stories.