Cultural Fatigue: Feeling it bad.

The honeymoon phase has long passed; the rooster living in the tree in my backyard is now an annoying malfunctioning alarm clock that I would like to shoot with pellets from an airgun sending its feathers across the Atlantic to another island far away.

I am experiencing what can only be described as cultural fatigue. Feeling the sensation of everything being different and difficult.  Discord, disharmony, confusion and conflict abound.  I need to find a wide stretch of sand where I can erase the impressions of these past weeks and refresh my perspective.

I will now lie on the couch and begin to explain the onset of my cultural dissonance.

I decided to resume teaching expository and creative writing at the same primary school and with the same teacher from last term.  Things had quieted down some at the youth department and it seemed like the perfect time to add an activity I enjoyed to my weekly routine. 

The first week back at the school went well; the kids were a blast to work with and the teacher appreciated the support. By the second week however, the principal decided to get involved and what I had anticipated would be a "work lift" became a source of anxiety and frustration.  When I arrived in the morning with the lesson organized, name tags for the kids, and the days materials ready to go,  I was told that I must teach both 3rd grade classes and work with both teachers, one of whom I can barely tolerate.  I explained that teaching 40 students in a classroom made to fit 20 would be cramped and impossible to manage. Besides, I had only prepared for 20 students and could not accommodate the 40 at the last minute. Since I am a volunteer, I expected my wishes would be respected and began the lesson with the original 3rd grade class as I had planned.  Fifteen minutes later, teacher number two walked into the classroom with her entire cadre of students and filed into the back of the room.   The new students were understandably antsy standing against the wall trying to understand something they had come to in the middle of, and teacher number two responded by swatting at them as if they were flys: neck, face, back, shoulders, hands - whatever she could reach, leaning forward and stretching her hands down the line of unhappy children. 

When I began the actual writing part of the lesson, teacher number two ordered her students to share seats with the original class.  Two students now sat in each chair, three shared a desk with barely enough space for one, notebooks sat on knees, and aisles were crowded with gangly legs and untied shoes. It was chaos.

The lesson continued for two hours and I did my best to help the extra children learn the concept of writing instructions that can be easily followed by someone unfamiliar with the task, but when it came to the practicum, "how to make a cheese sandwich", I asked teacher number two to take her class back to her room since I only had enough food for the original 20.

"I want them to stay," she said.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.
"They can watch," she insisted.
"No." I answered. "It's not fair for them to watch the others eat when there is no food for them."

I stood my ground while teacher number one watched the exchange in silence.  Finally teacher number two gathered her students and left the room, but not before telling me with a cultural arrogance that I have become all too familiar with, that she would be reporting this to the principal.

When I work with young people, it is important that I build a relationship with them.  It is how I empower the kids and why they respond to the structure I introduce; empowerment and structure - both essential to learning and to a projects success.  I can't accomplish this goal working with 40 eight year-olds for three hours once a week.  Nor do I want this to be my challenge.  It should be my choice.

I will not return to the school unless conditions change.  And if they do not, it will be a pity for the kids and for me.

And so it goes, on Leap Day, February 29, 2012.




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When the truth is not relevant.

It's been too long without sharing the latest news from St. Kitts. 

The weather has cooled, especially the humidity, and the physical part of living here is much more comfortable.  I've even found myself wishing for a blanket on a few cool nights.

Carnival parades and Calypso contests have come to an end, children have returned to school and the government has approved the annual budgets for each Ministry, but still we have no supplies: no ink for printing, no copy paper, no pens, pencils or crayons, AND no toilet paper. It is insane to work in an office without toilet paper!

The budget for the Ministry of Youth Empowerment is similar to that of last year, and still has no line item for program implementation.  The five hour "consultative process" staff meeting we had back in October when we discussed the focus of the department for 2012 presented one common concern among staff: money for program implementation.  We were promised that this would be included in the 2012 budget, but it wasn't. And what does this mean for the kids and the department?  Not much for either one, and a disaster for office morale.

The Primary School Debate that was supposed to take place next Monday was cancelled today because it is the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Anniversary Celebration and the Department of Education has loaded up teacher's with have to do's in honor of this occasion leaving no time for learning stuff like critical thinking and presentation preparation; language skills and how to exchange ideas; listening to others and essentially practicing the art of communication.  Great decision making on the part of the educators.

I could never live in a place such as this where money is said to be available but not released; where programs are developed but not implemented - or worse yet where programs are implemented but not developed resulting in chaos and disappointment for participants; where promises are made to young people, their parents and community stakeholders, yet broken time and time again; where no one is held accountable and few people care. 

A 16 year old boy was shot a couple of weeks ago because he was gay.  A hate crime or "bias motivated " crime straight from the archives of history at its most awful.  Some say there is no proof the shooting was related to the boy's sexual orientation, others say that he deserved what he got for being so flamboyant, and others claim he was targeted because of something he wrote on his blog or Facebook or some other such nonsense.  It appears that the truth is not relevant when people are in denial of their homophobia and personal bias. Bigotry and oppression, the ugliest side of the human spirit. The boy is still alive but paralyzed.  It wasn't the first time he'd been physically assaulted either, just the first time the weapon was a gun. So much for the golden rule.  A campaign for tolerance too, needs to be taught on this island "paradise"

I watched a chicken cross the road on Fort Street in Basseterre this morning.  He did make it to the other side, but barely.  It was rush hour.






And so it goes this 8th day of February 2012.