School in London - Week 4

September 25, 2005.

So it’s over. Friday was our very last day of the course but in fact we were all effectively finished Thursday when the last of our teaching practices were over and we quickly became aware that whatever our final “grade” might be we had all passed the course. The frightening thing now is that we are all certified to teach the English language to people who have absolutely no clue as to what we might or might not be capable of doing! Yet the reality is that we are ready to do just that.

Our last teaching session on Friday, was unobserved and we could do whatever we wanted – no lesson plan, no preparation (well OK there was some preparation) – just have a good time. That we did. 

Our final input session was on professional development (by Annie) and “Fun and Games” by Ben. Just before we broke for lunch we all gave them both a Thank You card and each a bottle of champagne. They have made an enormous difference in our lives, probably in ways we don’t understand just yet and may not realize for years to come. They may feel that we made some progress as teacher trainers, good, and hope for the best as we plunge into the world of English teaching abroad – but the reality is that our lives, each of the 15 lives in this class, have been altered irrevocably.

It’s a bit after 4 in the afternoon and some of us are sitting around having drinks and chatting for what will undoubtedly be the last time we are together. Every day for the past four weeks we have all walked the same paths, climbed the same stairs, went to the same bathrooms (OK boys to the boys and girls to the girls) and know a great deal about each other and yet know each very little. Odd but true. The powerful nature of this situation has naturally produced s feeling of loss – I should be in the library photocopying, I should be writing a lesson plan, I should be DOING SOMETHING in this course. But the reality is that the course is over. It is finished. It is done. We have passed. 

People are leaving, Joerig is gone, Christina is saying good bye, Sithara is leaving, Jackie too, so many of us who have become maybe not friends but supporters of each other. The words are coming fast now but the simple fact is we must go our own separate ways; we each have a life to live and a future to get on with.

The week began on a note of high anxiety. Assignments were due, final lesson plans had to be prepared and of course the nearer each of us got to our last teaching practice the more nervous we became. For our particular group we had the distinction of having the senior assessor from Cambridge observing us on Wednesday (when Sophie and I finished) of course there was a bit of interest in that slight twist in things.

But in the end we all 15 finished and everyone passed (except the one fellow who was there just for the training and not for the certificate). Well OK the pass is not official – those will be mailed out Monday and the actual certificates arrive in about two months’ time.

For me it was a relief to have finished and I suppose for everyone else as well. 

The rain had stopped and the sun came out while we were all saying our goodbyes in the bar, so that was nice. I put away my umbrella and walked to the tube station to head back to Willesden Green. I had packed my big bag the night before and now just needed to get it to Paddington station and leave if in the “left luggage” room there. My flight isn’t until late Saturday evening so Saturday I will be meeting Trevor. He’s one of the students from the other CELTA group (there were two groups of 15 each taking the course) and he and I have often met in the mornings at the nearby Starbucks for coffee. Anyway although he’s from Northern Ireland he’s lived in London for I think he said 26 years, and worked for some years as a accountant. Anyway when he found out I had time on my hands he suggested we meet downtown and he’d give me a tour before heading out to Heathrow. And since my tube line is closed for the weekend I wanted to get my bag out of the house and on it’s way, sort of, and since I can get an express train to Heathrow (and in particular Terminal 4) I decided to leave my bag at the train station and will pick it up on my way out of town. Sounds complicated and it probably is.

Saturday morning. I got up about 6;40 am and find I just can’t shake this weird dream I had had last night. I mean it was so vivid and so real. I had come to London to go to school and there were these 14 other people in the big room and we were all sitting in these really tiny desks; and these were people from all over the world and we didn’t know each. And the dream just stranger and stranger. . . .