Andrew Hirsh
BRIGHT Magazine
Published in
10 min readOct 3, 2018

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English teacher during class, Uganda. Via Twin Work & Volunteer/Flick’r

In 2017, four years after graduating from college, I realized the goals I had set for myself — namely, to excel in sports journalism and plant my roots in one location — were no longer ones I wished to pursue. Initially, this felt disheartening, as I had worked hard to build a career in football media. Then it felt liberating, as I recognized there were so many potential avenues worth pursuing. Then, that sense of freedom gave way to anxiety; there were so many avenues worth pursuing.

At 22, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. At 26, I had no idea. Not a unique predicament, I know, but a distressing one nonetheless.

I figured the answers I sought would take a while to emerge, and that in the interim, I should do something challenging and meaningful. I recalled several friends had enjoyed teaching abroad, and as a part-time English tutor who wanted to travel more, I thought I might be able to do the same.

So I made the only string of decisions that felt rational at the time. I quit my job in Atlanta, Georgia as a National Football League (NFL) reporter, turned in my car, informed my apartment complex I would not renew my lease, filled a couple of suitcases, and soon stepped foot on the sand in Huanchaco, Peru: a small, arid beach town known for its surf, seafood, and laid-back lifestyle.

On May 11, 2017, as I sat along the shore and watched the sun set below the Pacific for the first time, the gravity of my choices became clear. I took an enormous risk — one that, for better or worse, would drastically alter my future.

When I decided to teach abroad, I had no particular destination in mind. I decided on Peru after stumbling upon the website of an NGO called Otra Cosa. The organization worked with kids in underfunded schools who wouldn’t otherwise receive the English language portion of their government-mandated curriculum. After a few Skype calls with Otra Cosa’s leadership, I was sold.

Looking back, it was the best decision I ever made. For 13 months, I lived in Huanchaco and, through the NGO Otra Cosa, taught English to fourth-, fifth-, and sixth-graders. Playing a small part in the academic progress of 200-plus students was immensely rewarding, and has motivated me to seek comparable volunteer opportunities in the United States. Moreover, it exposed me to critical problems facing children in low-income settings, like neglect, abuse, and malnutrition.

I am not trained formally as an educator, nor am I an expert in international development. But I learned a lot from my trip that I believe is worth passing on. If you are considering teaching in the global south, here is the best advice I can give.

1. Think critically about why you want to do this.

Should you choose to teach, you need to make sure the kids’ needs come first, because regardless of your circumstances, this experience should be more about them than you.

If you want to focus on “finding yourself,” you can travel for an extended period without stepping foot in a classroom. And there is nothing wrong with that path; it’s useful for a lot of people. But the best teachers must be willing to put their students’ intellectual growth ahead of their personal journeys.

So, before making any commitments, have an honest conversation with yourself. What is driving you to teach abroad?

2. Gain experience prior to traveling.

If, like me, you didn’t study education in a formal setting, try to get your feet wet before hopping on a plane. Opportunities can be found almost anywhere. Speak with a librarian, call some teachers, search online for nonprofits focused on education.

I also recommend obtaining a teaching certificate. Doing so can give you a baseline understanding of what it means to be a teacher, for one, and many schools looking for English instructors require it from applicants.

As you search for programs, you’ll likely come across three acronyms. There is TEFL, teaching English as a foreign language; TESL, teaching English as a second language; and TESOL, teaching English to speakers of other languages. The variations of these programs aren’t drastic, but different schools/NGOs look for different qualifications. Before enrolling in any courses, comb through the opportunities that pique your interest and make sure you are checking off the right boxes.

If you are on a tight schedule or have a tight budget, inexpensive TEFL/TESL/TESOL courses can be found online. If you have the time and financial means, try to enroll in an in-person course. Doing so will prepare you better, and it may be the best way to get inside a classroom.

Be aware, however, that the quality of these programs varies widely. Do some research before investing your time and money.

3. Understand the culture in which you will be embedded.

Odds are you are planning on traveling to a place very different from your home. To be successful, you must gain a strong understanding of the local culture. How are your students disciplined? What are teachers’ general expectations of their students? How are teachers expected to conduct themselves, treat their students, and interact with each other? It’s better to arrive prepared and avoid preventable blunders.

The internet is a great starting point, of course, and, once you arrive, seek out locals and ask them incisive questions. Speaking with young adults in Huanchaco who went through the public education system helped me navigate the classroom more effectively.

Language expectations vary. If you are going to teach English to beginners, you need to be able to speak your students’ language. If you are going to teach more advanced English learners, you might not be required to speak much of the native tongue.

I spoke almost no Spanish when I decided to teach abroad, and I knew I’d be working with beginners, so I made a Duolingo account and committed to learning at least 10 words a day. That may not seem like much, but they add up quickly. Follow that regimen and you’ll learn roughly 300 words a month and more than 3,600 a year.

Conventional wisdom says the best way to learn a language is to immerse yourself in it, and I believe that’s true. If you begin your expedition and don’t speak the local language, you may gravitate toward those who understand English. I certainly did. But pushing myself into Spanish conversations — at bars, in the streets, along the waterfront — sped up my language learning considerably.

4. Understand your role.

You are not a savior. And you are not on an extended vacation. Rather, approach this opportunity the way the best full-time teachers approach their jobs — with humility and a sincere desire to impart knowledge. Anything less would be a disservice to the kids.

How you view your role will depend on your background. As someone who arrived in Huanchaco with limited Spanish and no experience in a classroom setting, I spent my first three months as an assistant, watching and learning. I got my bearings, built up my language skills, and gradually increased my interactions with students. By the time my first co-teacher departed, I had the confidence and foundation of knowledge needed to take on a leadership position.

5. Set high yet realistic expectations for yourself.

If you hope your students will make big advancements during your time with them, it is a near certainty you will leave frustrated. Concentrate instead on small victories — many of which turn out to be anything but small.

One victory I still think about a lot concerns a sixth-grader named Nicole. On day one, she established herself as my most disruptive student. Nicole made it clear she had no interest in learning English — every piece of direction was met with a terse “no” — and she went out of her way to distract nearby classmates. Every few days, though, she made an earnest attempt to work, if only for a few minutes, and I could tell she was comprehending more than she let on.

In month seven, something clicked. I wrote a sentence on the board in English, and Nicole jumped out of her chair in excitement. She quickly sat back down and opened her notebook (a small victory in itself), scribbled furiously in both languages, and ran up to the front of the room to show me her work. The translation was flawless. Suddenly, miraculously, she understood English had genuine value. She remained unruly at times, perhaps more often than not, but her overall conduct and grades improved after the lightbulb turned on. On occasion, she became the most eager student in class. She was still far behind many of her peers when I departed, but if she holds onto that zeal (she promised me she would), she can become bilingual.

6. Set clear expectations for your students.

Your classes are bound to be structured differently than ones conducted by the school’s main teachers. This may be out of necessity. For instance, I only saw my students in two 45-minute blocks per week. Students may not be accustomed to concise, sharply-focused exercises.

Explain to the children how your class will be structured. And give them a say, too. On the first day of school, my co-teachers and I brought a blank poster to each room and, in collaboration with the students, wrote down a set of rules to follow — rules specifically for our class. When the kids were acting out of line, we would stop the lesson, walk to the poster taped to the wall, point to the rule(s) they were breaking, and ask if their conduct was acceptable. They’d say no, and more often than not, their behavior would improve.

7. Steel yourself for chaos.

My first roommate after college, a seventh-grade teacher, was perpetually exhausted. I didn’t understand why. I do now.

Truth is, no matter where you work, no matter who your students are, teaching will drain you to some degree. Groups of kids are difficult to manage, and breaks between classes are few and far between. Working with limited resources will test your creativity, as well.

You need to talk loudly, you need to be on your feet at all times, you need to improvise, and you need to anticipate that some classes will be complete disasters. That poster board tactic? It didn’t always work.

Without question, bracing for bedlam will go a long way toward ensuring you’re ready to take the low points in stride.

8. Be mindful of your demeanor.

Some meltdowns can be averted altogether with the right poise. Many students believe they can get away with more in front of a new, foreign teacher than one with whom they are familiar. They won’t always take a mile when you give an inch, but if you don’t always carry yourself like you deserve their respect, you probably won’t receive it. Any sign of weakness — yelling, disorganization, a lack of enthusiasm or professionalism — can make a lasting impression. And children are more observant than most adults you’ll ever meet.

9. Bond with your students, but only in ways that benefit them.

My favorite part of working abroad wasn’t teaching. It was passing time with my students outside of class — playing soccer and volleyball, hanging out at the local skate ramp, cleaning the beach together on Sundays. Connecting with children this way can endear you to them, which in turn can make you a more effective instructor. Once I began spending time with my kids in relaxed environments — once they saw me as a “fun” teacher — they were more willing to listen to spiels about pronouns and verb conjugation and vocab lists.

That said, bear in mind the kids’ well-being is more important than the fulfillment you can gain. My superiors made it clear that going above and beyond with students can actually be detrimental. Many children are already coping with issues related to abandonment; forming deep bonds with adults who leave them can be damaging in the short- and long-term. Don’t hesitate to become a mentor, but be conscious of the pitfalls of over-attachment.

10. Understand how to spot and deal with trouble.

In my classroom, malnutrition, neglect, and abuse were far too common. Before your first day of school, speak with the right people to make sure you understand how to identify a potential crisis, and what steps you should take to help.

11. Write, a lot.

This will hopefully be among most enriching chapters of your life. And in all probability, it will feel like a blur. In Peru, I felt as if I were in a time warp: the days went by fast, but they somehow moved slow, too, and I had difficulty absorbing all I wanted to soak up. Thankfully I wrote down lots of the incredible and painful and mundane things I saw and did. Reading through those pages now, I don’t see all the answers I’ve been searching for, but I can spot a few peppered in. I consider them gifts — gifts that have given me a sense of purpose and a newfound direction. I hope your trip will provide you the same.

Read more from our series on Equity in International Education.

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