Bingo!

There have been many things bugging me the past week. Things such as what do I do about the complete lack of faith my students have in themselves? How do I leave my mark on this school? How do I appease the State Department's appetite for heart warningly cute things from Indonesian students? How do I cater to all the different types of students in my classes? How do start something in the school they will be proud, not just to have, but to continue? Most importantly, how do I do all of this in the context of an English classroom? How to do all of this? Is doing all of this even possible? And just what the hell is bakso made of?

This is quite a bit for a young boy to be ruminating on, but the efforts were worth it. (hence the title of this post) The answer finally came to me last night as I was trying to fight off these questions so that I might finally fall asleep. The answer?

Y e a r b o o k

Yes! A yearbook! Why did I not think of this sooner?! The idea is too perfect to be true. Projects for it can easily be squeezed into my English classes. It will get students from all sorts of skill backgrounds working together. They will be actively producing something that is about them, so they will all be proud of their work. All the photographed memories makes this something perfect for sharing. The State Department will eat it right up. We can add in some stories about the school and teachers so that others will feel part of it too and be encouraged to continue it. Most importantly, accomplishing this feat will cause to students to feel like they are capable of anything, as this has never been done at this school yet.

And perhaps it will teach me the same thing. I mean, why do I keep backing away from challenges? Why do I keep selling myself short. I have a rather impressive set of skills and an even more engrossing history. I have scratched and clawed through every damn statistic that cumulated to suggest the best future I could hope for was a lower management position at a fast food restaurant. I've already proven myself, it's time to do it again, and I could not think of a more perfect arena. I was Features Editor on the best high school newspaper in the state of Georgia. I know layout. I know putting pictures and words together on paper, and I have first hand experience with the requisite logistics and management for such a feat. Together with my students, I'm going to give those cuteness craving diplomates at the State Department something to fawn over.

Like I said. This idea was too perfect to be true. Not just for what I hope for my students, but for me as well. . .

Okay, maybe perfect was a little too haughty of a work. I mean, it completely fails at answering the recurring question of "just what the hell is bakso made of?"