Teachers for Global Classrooms Field Study Reflection
In order to optimize our field study experience, we were expected to create a driving
question. As a researcher-practitioner, I loved this idea, however, was dumbstruck because I had
little knowledge of Georgia. While in Washington DC a TEA fellow from Georgia spoke to us
and said that extra-curricular activities were soccer, singing, dancing, or martial arts. I thought
that was odd but since I train in Aikido, I thought perhaps I could train with some students as a
way to bridge the gap between our two cultures and create some bonding moments. Since the
only sport mentioned was either soccer or martial arts, it instantly made me interested in conflict
resolution. When I taught in the inner-city, I leaned heavily on my Akido training to manage
conflict (Aikido is primarily a non-violent martial art and 100% defensive). It led to me wonder
how a semi-war torn nation such as Georgia would handle interpersonal conflicts. With Russian
encroachment in the North (Ossetia) and Northwest (Abkhazia) I initially hypothesized that
students at all levels would handle interpersonal conflict the good old fashioned way—“meet me
at the flagpole after school”. So I spent my time in DC thinking about how to approach my
question in Georgia: How do school children at all levels handle interpersonal conflict?
After a few hours in Tbilisi, however, that question immediately faded away. I was
awestruck by how much Tbilisi reminded me of Rome with the old and new right next to each
complementarily coexisting. Our schedule was also extremely tight leaving little time to soak in
the city. At first I was simply overwhelmed by the strangeness of a new place forgetting that I
had a driving question.
Four days came and went quickly and we were on our way to the four corners of Georgia.
I arrived in Zestaponi late afternoon and had some time to explore the city. There was a
significant difference in affluence from the large capital to the former Soviet mining town:
crumbling concrete building, old cars, trash all over the waterway, cows, pigs, and chickens
wandering the roads and sidewalks. We definitely were in a very different place.
Shorena our host escorted us to her school and showed us around Zestaponi Public
School number 5. The building was a bit old and classrooms varied in their upkeep, but students
were loud, running around, and happy until the bell rang when there was a mad dash to class.
When we entered the classroom all students were standing until told to sit down. Yes, most
certainly yes—I was in a different place.
Quickly, I realized that students stood not just because their teacher told them to, but
because of respect for the teacher. I began to wonder why. Then I noticed a swarm of 8th graders
run up to Shorena in the hallways smiling and vying for her attention. She warmly smiled, spoke
something in Georgian and grabbed a girl’s cheek who beamed with pride. These students really
did love Shorena.
And Shorena loved her students saying that is one the main reasons she gets up in the
morning. She truly considers them her kids and her fellow faculty her family. After a few days
together, Shorena asked us if she could just talk to her friends in the staff room. We said “of
course” and watched her hold court while she gestured, told stories of our adventures, and
solicited input for our going away supra.
My travel mate and I discussed what was happening and we both agreed she had missed
her friends spending so much time with us. We asked her, and she agreed saying that while it
was nice to entertain us, she did miss her other family.
While these colleague bonds do form in some schools in the US, I’ve never seen it to the
degree it existed in Zestaponi Public School Number 5. The closeness is so remarkable I found
myself saying over and over that I’d love to work there! My favorite place of the whole trip was
the faculty lounge before school started and during passing periods. The room smelled of tea and
instant coffee. There was always tremendous hustle and bustle interspersed with laughing and
hugs. It was a very warm place for a work environment, for sure.
I began asking myself how did they, the teachers, manage this comradery? What made
this place, this school Zestaponi Public School number 5 such a nice place to work in spite of the
decrepit building and limited resources? Thus was born a new research questions. I was no
longer interested in conflict resolution because there seemed to be almost no conflict.
Armed with a camera, I decided I would try to capture moments I felt reflected the
warmth of the faculty and the students. I quickly realized that I was way too slow on the draw.
There were no seemingly deliberate interactions; there were just small, subtle actions. A brush of
the hand; a quick half-hug; a grab of the cheeks; standing behind a student with a hand on the
shoulder. Even a quick nod with the barest hint of smile of teacher, as if to say, “good job” but
something that would be caught if only looking for it.
And the students would most certainly look for it. So much so, I think, that the 8th graders
planned a field trip for the two American visitors on a Saturday. I use this as an example because
the 8th grade English class wanted to show the Americans their country and their heritage. They
wanted us to feel welcome and to really get to know them. I think, at the core, they really wanted
us to like them. As adults, I think it was their natural inclination to gain our acceptance.
So the best day of my trip was the 8th grade field trip. The students made a ton of food
with their parents and packed it on a mini-bus for our trip to 2 different monasteries and a family
pottery shop in the mountains. We had to banquets by rivers in valleys and I was able to play
some “noun” games with the kids—we each would act out a noun and have everyone try to guess
it. I could see the genuine interest in me and America from the kids. I could see the mutual
respect between the kids and the adults. Kids helped cook the cook and prepare the food. Clearly,
this was a 2-way street between teacher and pupil.
Eventually, this research question turned inward. What was it about these teachers, this
culture that nurtures this kind of environment? Well, I kind of learned my lesson the hard way
when I tried to buy some bread in town by myself. A lot of people were staring at me and I felt
on guard. The town had a run-down feel to it and coming from the South Side of Chicago I had a
bit of a defensive chip, so I puffed up a bit. I settled on a bakery to buy some bread and I didn’t
know how much it cost because I did not understand numbers. The baker and his father looked at
me like I was crazy until a large gentleman counted out my change for me and we all smiled.
As I write this, I realize I did not put myself out there for this new culture. I was
standoffish and mean mugging and reluctant to try. And when I did, I had help. The bottom line
was it was me. I needed to view this situation differently. Sure, few people spoke English but
they were more than willing to try to understand me if I just tried.
From that point on, I tried. Even when I was walking to a monastery with the 8th graders.
At first, I did not want to play the noun game—what if they didn’t understand me? What do I
have in common with these kids? But I tried and we had a wonderful time and I even learned
some new Georgian words!
My research question evolved as I began to notice things. And I began to notice a lot
more when I tried to be present and put myself out there. Just saying “Hello” was enough to
change the entire interaction. This travel experience made me realize that I am the one who
makes a trip successful or not. It’s up to me to try and put myself out there. I need to try to
understand instead of being understood. I left Georgia thinking that the best part of traveling is
learning something new about yourself.