Japan has an interesting way of denoting their special needs classes. Rather than simply label it “special needs” or giving it a number and letter, like every other class, these classes are named after flowers or similarly poetic things. In my elementary schools, they are the tanpopo, or dandelion, class. At the middle school, it’s soyokaze, which means gentle breeze.
There are currently two students in this class, Shiori and Risa. Naturally, having only two students presents a number of advantages as well as some disadvantages. One great thing is that I can actually remember their names. I hate to admit that, even after so long, I’ve only been able to remember a few of my kids’ names. Another great thing is the amount of personal attention my JTE and I can give to each of them during class. I can more easily pick up on what concepts each is struggling with and find ways that I know will help them. It’s a really good feeling and one which I don’t often get, as I see other students so infrequently that I’m not really sure of each one’s specific strengths and weaknesses nor the teaching methods they would best respond to.
The negative things about such a small class are actually not too bad, though they can sometimes be frustrating. The biggest thing I’ve learned is that my lesson plans for other schools, which will usually run the whole class, are not enough. Having only two students, things go by much more quickly and I tend to run out of material with 20-25 minutes left to spare. Usually, this time is used practicing writing, which I think is great, but I would still like my lessons to go a bit longer. Another minor issue is that this is the only middle school class where I seem to have the role as T1. This basically means that I plan the lesson for that class and teach it, with the assistance of my JTE, and not the other way around. This puts a little more pressure on me, but also allows me a lot more freedom. Honestly, I wish more classes were like this.
I basically run the soyokaze class like an elementary class, which is to say it’s a lot more fun. We focus on simple words and sentences, and practice a little writing as well. Shiori and Risa have learned a lot of the things I teach them already, like colors and animals, but tend to forget them easily and aren’t ready for the more difficult structure of middle school classes, which focus more on grammar than conversation. They pick up on concepts very quickly, however, and are able to recall previous lessons with a little prompting. In a sense, they represent a kind of middle ground between the two levels of education that I’m used to teaching, which can make it a bit tricky at times to find something that is challenging but possible for them to do.
The reason why this is my favorite class, however, is the students themselves. Shiori and Risa are both adorable and, as I mentioned before, I probably know more about them than any other student in the school. When talking about our favorite day of the week, I got to hear all about the shows they watch (several of which I was familiar with.) I learned about the animals they like, and in Shiori’s case fear, and about their families. I’ve only taught this class five times, yet it’s the one where I feel I can make the most impact and have formed the closest relationships.
I think the greatest feeling a teacher can experience is that of making a connection with a student in some way. Tuesday of this week I received a gift from Shiori that I feel shows I’ve done just that. It’s a simple gift: a small, handmade bookmark with a green flower and heart and her name on the back. A short letter was attached to it that said my classes were fun and I was a kind teacher. I cannot adequately express how these things made me feel. Receiving these gifts was far and away the best moment I’ve had teaching in Japan and I'm glad I'm able to share it with my friends and family back home.
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