Sob o ponto de vista proposto em sala, comecei a pensar em qual tipo de professor que quero ser. Já partindo do pressuposto que há vários tipos de professores, gostaria de me destacar em meio aos “grandes” como aqueles que tive na graduação em Letras e alguns daqueles que me deram toda base, na educação infantil e fundamental. Penso que não há um tipo correto de professor, contudo acredito que o bom professor seria como um camaleão, o qual se adapta a diferentes situações e contextos sociais.
Quando penso em meu futuro lecionando línguas portuguesa, espanhola e inglesa, imagino-me fazendo alguma diferença na vida de crianças, adolescentes, jovens e adultos. Quero ser um professor do qual os alunos se lembram como aquele que lhes ensinou a fazer isso ou aquilo ou aquele que lhes mostrou um caminho alternativo. Quero ser amigo e mostrar a realidade, acolher e repreender quando necessário. Quero ser atualizado quando se tratar de tecnologia, não se esqueçam que escrita é tecnologia, e metodologia de ensino. Quero poder fazer com que meus alunos se sintam confortáveis em sala de aula. Quero ser fonte de conhecimento sobre alguns assuntos, porque acredito que não podemos e/ou devemos ser versados em tudo. Quero ser informado desde o BBB e o funk que está na moda, até a filosofia e processos cognitivos ocorrentes em adolescentes nos países islâmicos. Quero ensinar meu aluno a questionar e não somente aceitar as coisas como elas são ou como elas nos são apresentadas. Quero ser um formador de opinião que respeita outras opinioes. Quero ser aquele professor brincalhão que sabe quando parar e, mais que isso, consegue mostrar paro o aluno que agora é melhor parar. Quero ser aquele professor cujo nome, quando dito, acarretará uma serie de lembranças de aulas interessantes e divertidas.
Em suma, penso que o professor de sucesso e aquele que, além de sua matéria, ensina o aluno a ser cidadão, a sonhar, a ver a mesma coisa sob pontos de vista distintos. O professor que eu quero ser sou eu com todas minhas complexidades e particularidades.
Rodrigo P. Honorato
Professor de Linguas
Being a teacher is more than teaching someone something. Being a teacher is believing there is a better way. Being a teacher is making people’s dreams come true. Being a teacher is being prepared for any and every situation that might happen. Being a teacher is being a psychologist, an actor or actress, a motivational speaker, a mother, a father, a friend and confident. Being a teacher is opening people’s eyes to see through what has been shown. Being a teacher is believing education can change people and educated people can change the world around them. Being a teacher has been the best choice I have ever made thus far in my life. Being a teacher is trying as hard as you can to make ends meet. Being a teaching is preparing classes, learning how to use technology in the classroom so as to follow through with what the world has become. Being a teacher is correcting exams and compositions on the weekends. Being a teaching is learning constantly. Being a teaching is learning how to make every kind of students learn. Being a teacher is improvising when the Plan A or Plan B do not work they way they were supposed to. Being a teacher is all of this rolled in that person you see in the classrooms all around the world.
Teachers, congratulations for your work and dedication. May all your dreams come true by making others’ come true as well.
Rodrigo P. Honorato
When adults are helping infants learn to talk, it is remarkable how much of this “help” comes naturally and unconsciously. Take the case of a mother engaged in face-to-face play with a six-month-old child.
In short, she is speaking “Motherese" (Newport, Gleitman, and Gleitman, 1977).
Motherese reminds you of the way a tennis coach might show a neophyte how to swing a racket. She exaggerates the twisting of the body, the gaze straight ahead toward an unseen opponent, the arm swinging on around after the ball has been hit. So, too, the adult speaking to the child exaggerates the connection of emotion to speech through the dramatic swoops and pauses of her voice, her brightened eyes, and smiling face. Her turn-taking with the child is greatly slowed down, as if to invite the child to take his part in the conversations (Stern, 2004). The mother says “Hey!” and smiles, then waits. Says “Hey!” again and smiles, then waits. Then when the baby finally coos, the mother smiles more brightly, then says “Hey, yourself!” and then waits…
As we shall see, adults hold scaffolded conversations with older children, too, that help them learn language. And while Motherese is usually spoken by people unaware that they are doing it, preschool teachers and parents can be trained to use certain kinds of scaffolded conversations with children that help them learn language.
Parents and adults can help children to talk by:
Excerpt from Intervening for Literacy: The Joy of Reading to Young Children, by C. Temple, J. MaKinster, 2005 edition, p. 32-33.
Special thanks to my student and friend, the undergraduate student of Psychology in UFMG (Federal University of Minas Gerais), Marilia Beatricci who can be contacted through her Twitter account @mariliabia
Rodrigo P. Honorato
I have talked with my students about GRAMMAR and it really made me stroll down memory lane. I remember those old days when my mother asked me to conjugate verbs in Portuguese according to the persons. I memorized a long list of verbs in numerous verb tenses…Have you ever asked yourself why you learned that? I do not think you have asked it to yourself and it is where I would like to start this little article from.
In Brazil, students tend to accept things we, teachers, teach without even asking us why it is like that. For instance, do you know why they call a,e,i,o, and u vowels? Well, you know they are vowels but you do not know who named them that way and the reason why they did so. That is a very simple example, but enough to illustrate my thoughts.
When it comes to the grammatical part of the language, there is a prejudice against those who speak or write informally or according to internal grammar rules. People in general think that there is right or wrong in grammar, when actually there is appropriate and inappropriate according to the scenario. Some words or expressions are not well accepted in business such as “Hey, what’s up bro?” or “What’s popping dude?” However, you cannot say they are wrong or incorrect. They are perfect, not for that situation, though. But, who decides what is appropriate and inappropriate when it comes to language? Who has created the grammar rules? What are they based on? Why “We were” is “correct” and “We was” is “incorrect” if both are understood perfectly?
Grammar books have been put together by a very small group of people who detain knowledge about language. And believe me, your opinion has never mattered to these people.
I ain’t gon’ be talkin’ no more ‘bout all these ‘cause ya know…Lotta people ain’t gon’ feel me and they gon’ be talkin’ down ‘bout what I be tellin’ y’all here. Yo’, stick to the theory of appropriate and inappropriate I proposed and y’all gon’ be linguistically successful. Plus, ya ain’t gon’ be judgin’ nobody by they way they talk. Them people who judge ain’t got no knowledge on what the purpose of language really is: COMMUNICATION.
Rodrigo P. Honorato
Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighboring kingdom. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur’s youth and ideals. So, the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer and, if after a year, he still had no answer, he would be put to death.
The question?…What do women really want? Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. But, since it was better than death, he accepted the monarch’s proposition to have an answer by year’s end.
He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: the princess, the priests, the wise men and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer.
Many people advised him to consult the old witch, for only she would have the answer.
But the price would be high; as the witch was famous throughout the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged.
The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the witch. She agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her price first.
The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, the most noble of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur’s closest friend!
Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked and hideous, had only one tooth, smelled like sewage, made obscene noises, etc. He had never encountered such a repugnant creature in all his life.
He refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden; but Lancelot, learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur
He said nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur’s life and the preservation of the Round Table.
Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered Arthur’s question thus:
What a woman really wants, she answered….is to be in charge of her own life.
Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and that Arthur’s life would be spared.
And so it was, the neighboring monarch granted Arthur his freedom and Lancelot and The honeymoon hour approached and Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific experience, entered the bedroom.
But, what a sight awaited him. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen lay before him on the bed. The astounded Lancelot asked what had happened ?
The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared as a witch, she would henceforth, be her horrible deformed self only half the time and the beautiful maiden the other half.
Which would he prefer? Beautiful during the day….or night?
Lancelot pondered the predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman to show off to his friends, but at night, in the privacy of his castle, an old witch? Or, would he prefer having a hideous witch during the day, but by night, a beautiful woman for him to enjoy wondrous intimate moments?
What would YOU do?
What Lancelot chose is below.
BUT….make YOUR choice before you scroll down below.
Noble Lancelot said that he would allow HER to make the choice herself.
Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time because he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life.
Now….what is the moral to this story?
The moral is…..
If you don’t let a woman have her own way….
Things are going to get ugly
"I pledge allegiance to flag of Brazil." that is the sentence I have, as a Brazilian man, always wanted to say after living in the USA for a while. Not because I only thought it was cool, but also because it does mean something to American people.
Today, June 22, 2013, after many invitations and after confirming my presence on Facebook, I decided to join the group of protesters in Belo Horizonte. Many of them were students, teachers, professors, families, elderlies, children, men, women…However, amongst us, there were a few of vandals who made it difficult for all of us.
So it was 2:00pm when we got together at Praca 7 (Downtown BH), lots of banners, messages, posters - and posers - people who knew what they were doing, people who didn’t know anything that was happening and so on and so forth. However, Brazil was playing Italy for the Confederations Cup, but people were not blindly watching the game on TV as if everything was okay. That really makes me happy. So, after that first “concentration” downtown, I decided to come back home because I really like soccer and I did want to see Brazil playing Italy. That’s when I drove my car back home to find my mother on the computer playing Solitary, my younger sister sleeping on the couch, and the baby playing around on the rug.
I lied down on the couch, turned the TV on and started watching the game. Brazil was playing really well and I knew it would beat Italy. But Italy beats us in health system, education, infrastructure…After the first half (45’), I heard Galvao Bueno saying “Manifestations around Brazil, unfortunately in BH, police officers had to do something…” At that moment my heart hurt and, knowing what I was doing, I got back in my car and joined my people back. I drove up to Pampulha area. very close to another country that is called “FIFA”. I learned that UFMG does not belong to me anymore. It was the police’s turf.
I parked my car on Rua Boaventura in Liberdade and walked down the street to meet the front liners. They were peacefully screaming and shouting, however, some vandals amongst us started breaking things: stores, traffic signs, car dealership… Police officers were shooting, casting tear gas bombs, spraying us with pepper-spray and their helicopter was flying really low so that they could spread the gas all over, which made people go to places further away from “FIFA country”.
From the inside of UFMG, camouflaged cops together with the National Force officers, shot us, cast bombs and populations started to counter attack. Pause! (It was brilliant to see what happened. The police have created a monster called tear gas bombs. These monsters burn your eyes and make you blind, they burn your face, throat and you feel like passing out. Population started to grab these bombs and throw them back at the police. Politically: The police have been attacked by the monsters they have created. That is just amazing!)
What I felt was that, besides not being ready for what’s going on, police officers were really scared. 125 thousand people screaming “Ei, policia, vai tomar no cu” meaning "Hey cops, go fuck yourself".
What I can tell now is that there are a lot of hatred against the police. I feel the same hatred after I saw girls screaming “Why do you have to shoot us, cowards…” and one of the police officers blew them a kiss. At that moment I felt so angry that I preferred to walk away so that I could try to forget that scene.
The sentence I said to myself at that time was “I hate the police and I wish their sons were here with us.”, but right off the bat and out of the blue, I came across a friend of mine who happens to be a cop and he was on duty…He looked at me, and we locked eyes…I asked him if would shoot me or spray my eyes and I think he wanted to cry when I said so. (I’m crying now just remembering that moment)…He ran away from me because I am sure seeing me there with no guns and knowing who I am, killed him inside!
I stayed back and while people in anger screamed, they started shooting again and casting bombs. One of which went off right beside me and got me partly deaf for some hours. I am fine now, though!
After that, after seeing the cowardice of our police…after seeing the Mexican people walking out of the stadium…I decided to drive my car towards downtown, where I stayed for not more than 30 minutes. It is difficult to hide downtown because they shoot from all the four corners and they don’t care who they will hit. Workers selling hot dogs, water, soda…they all had to run as fast as they could so that they could protect themselves.
Afterwards, I drove home and before I forget the details of this day, I decided to come over to share it with y’all. Let me take a shower, wash my soul and the dirt off my shoulders and get ready for one more day in Belo Horizonte, Brazil. Oh I cannot forget. I have got a “visa” to enter FIFA country. While I am here putting myself and my words together, my bed is warm and comfortable right behind me. I think it is time to hit the hay!
Rodrigo P. Honorato
It has been a little over 500 years that Brazil was “discovered” by Portuguese people. That is, from that day on Brazil has been stolen its story, people, culture, language, gold, and all other natural riches. Native Brazilian people have, ever since, been murdered by those who have power and are so called “civilized” people. For most of my life I have been ashamed of being part of a still-standing people who had never done anything to change the country’s fate. However, during the Military Dictatorship here in Brazil, people stood up for their rights and started fighting. Some of the protesters carried weapons, but most of them carried a strong will of seeing changes in the country.
We have not won the war, but many battles have been fought and, even though we have not beat the Military Dictatorship, things have started to change and people, who have been sleeping like a rock, have woken up and they are starving for some changes. Brazilians are sick and tired of seeing politicians stealing, police officers beating people on the streets for no reason, governors who do not invest in education, health system, and so on and so forth.
From now on, we shall not be silent. We will go onto the streets and we will stand up for our rights. It is not about R$0.20. It is not about bus fare. Those who are on the streets are educated, university students, professors, teachers…We are not hooligans. Of course, there will be some people who will vandalize, which I am against, A number of us, including me, do not need to use the public transportation. We are on the streets for other purposes. We are tired of seeing people dying in hospitals because there are no beds, treatments, doctors. We are tired of having to try to educate without having financial conditions to even go to school. We are tired of having to save up all our lives to go on a trip with our families.
But Brazil has woken up. We are GIANT and stopping us from getting to where we want will be very difficult. #vamoprarua Brasil. We will #changebrazil for good.
Rodrigo P. Honorato
“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes… The ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules… You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things… They push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.” Steve Jobs