If there was one thing these kids DIDN'T do, it was keeping calm and learning German

If you've been following this blog for a while, you might have noticed that I didn't do my monthly College Experience post last month. If you're new here: Hi! Hope you find something interesting to read!
Anyway, I didn't post last month because I didn't have time to write a post. I was also in a state of shock near the end of February. You see, I study German, so I can become a high school teacher. As part of my education, I have to do an eight-week internship during my freshman year, teaching German at a high school. But the school and kids I ended up with...

Before I continue this post, I have to give a short lesson in Dutch history.
When Dutch laborers became spoilt back in the 60s and didn't want to work in factories anymore, my country needed other people to do the crappy jobs. We found these people in Marocco and Turkey. Those people cam to our country, but stuck together. A lot of them didn't become part of the Dutch society and their cultures clashed with ours. They felt safe among their own people and thus certain parts of cities turned Turkish and Maroccan. Flash forward fifty years and we still see this pattern.
My internship school is in the south of Rotterdam, a place where a lot of immigrants from Arabic countries ended up. Most of the kids in my classes had names my western tongue couldn't pronounce, like Kaoutar and Anouar and Berkehan. They had a very particular attitude towards me: I'm a milky white Dutch polder girl. Very definitely not one of them and thus not worthy of respect.
My first day was traumatizing. I came home in a state of shock. All the glares and disrespectful gestures from high school kids had taken their toll on me.
My mom listened to my stories and said: 'Think of it as teaching in a ghetto.' From then on I went to my internship school while humming Elvis Presley's 'In the Ghetto'.

I came across some huge problems. I am fairly short for a Dutch girl. I am also on the skinny side and look a bit breakable. I am kind and have confidence in my students. All those things worked in my disadvantage at this school.
I wasn't able to do anything creative during my classes. I couldn't make the class more fun, because fun led to hyperactivity and fights. I couldn't turn my back for a second. The kids went crazy as soon as I stopped talking and sometimes just laughed at me, straight in my face, when I said they had to do some homework for out next class.
I knew fairly quickly that I loved teaching, but not in the ghetto. The kind, quite patient Envy had to make place for a teacher from Hell. I honestly didn't like myself anymore. It did have some effect: the kids were a little more like kids instead of little monsters when I showed up in killer heels and with a death stare on my face.

It doesn't sound like I had fun teaching, but there were moments when I absolutely loved it. The 8th graders were terrible, but I fell in love with the 10th graders. I couldn't stop laughing when a Maroccan and a Dutch boy in 10th grade ended up having a discussion about the importance of gravy. An girl in 8th grade stole my heart when she had to describe someone in German and said: 'The girl has hair and eyes.' There were some great kids and teaching them was awesome, but even older teachers with tons of experience have a hard time teaching at this school.

As I am typing this, I have four more days of internship to go. I will get through it and one day I'll be a good teacher, but right now I'm very disappointed with my college experience. I'm a confused freshman who's lost a bit of faith in humanity. Next year's internship will be better though. I'm sure of it.

Stay Awesome!