For teachers it's that time of year that feels a bit like New Year's Eve. As the school year comes to a close, there is a lot of reflecting on the past year and planning for the new one. Once again, I will be changing jobs and so the forward projection part of my reflection is skewed. I end up thinking about what I would do if I were returning and feeling a little bit of regret that I am not.
Reflections about my past year give me the sense of emerging from some dark tunnel. Its been a long, lonely ride this first year in Abidjan. Working at the French school has left me feeling equal parts a despondent stranger and an engaging explorer. Allie Brosh writes superbly about depression , awkward social situations and depression. She has me, and a million other people, laughing out loud and shamelessly sharing the fact that we feel this way too. If I still had access to mail service, I would buy this book. Much of the past year has been spent in alternate cycles of self hate , self doubt and generally just not feeling good enough.
It's hard to make friends when you're caught up in cycles like these. I have figured out that poverty is a huge trigger for me- feeling less than human and therefore unable to be around other humans. But something happens at the close of things that brings me out of my shell and makes me wonder why it ever felt so bad in the first place.
In my delerium at realizing I actually made it through hell and will probably be ok, I end up functioning like a mostly normal person again and can't even remember the details of my torture. I just know it was bad. And long. And now it appears kind of sunny. I feel like I am emerging from a natural disaster- that only I went though. Which leaves me with a kind of miraculous wow-life-is-grand perspective while those around me are more like gee-where've-you-been-this-whole-time?
In one of our last meetings I had the chance to talk to another colleague, also on a local contract, who apparently went through many of the same emotional ups and downs as I - though I had severley misread that situation from the beginning, thinking she was the wife of a wealthy businessman and had no cares in the world. Turns out her husband has gone back to his country- unemployed-, she is returning to her country and the year was plagued with her kids getting pulled out of school for late payment of fees (despite the fact that she, uhm, works for the school and the late fees were most likely a direct result of late salary payments.)
She got a little teary eyed as she related some of the details of her year in a casual manner and I realized that we could have easily switched places. I should have been getting to know her better all along. We could have suffered together.
But I made little effort to get to know anyone, worked through all my lunches, and retreated deep into my cave of self pity and doubt- although at the time it seemed more like the cave of being strong and getting through it.
As the vacation approaches I am making vows to reach out to some teachers I know who will be around and keep connections with a few interesting colleagues from the French school.
Because next school year, I am crossing back over to the American side of things. It's official, I guess, though it feels anticlimatic. I will be working at the American school teaching math and science. Not my dream job but a job on familiar ground. And, more importantly, it means the boys will be back in a school that resembles them.
Nabih has had it the hardest, being more sensitive than his brother. He was able to tell me that he hates being different (something I have realized since his little babyhood.) He doesn't like too much attention, whether good or bad, and being the only bi-racial kid in his class is draining. Luckily, I realize that once ensconced in the international school he will be one of a billion bi-racial kids and no one will look twice at him. The French school would have offered the same degree of comfort but was simply not a possibility on the dismal salary scale.
I am not convinced much will happen to improve things in that regard- local contracts require local taxes and there go any of the benefits of working internationally. I am making about the same as when I first started teaching 13 years ago. Before I let that launch me into another round of poverty depression, I am busy determining which habits I've picked up in my new spot that I might want to keep and which I will be happy to kick out.
One of the main regrets I have about returning to the American system is the amount of expected working hours. I had hoped to use my near half days to explore other career options and delve more deeply into things I love. This first year had me scrambling for cash and so I picked up a bunch of tutoring jobs, but I'd hoped to be able to extend my theater, art and dance into something more lucrative. I'd talked myself into patience thinking it might take a year or two for me to really develop direction.
But I have been watching those American teachers going in on holidays, weekends, and even after many of their colleagues have departed. Yesterday I passed a car full of teachers heading in to school on Saturday- the day after the last day of school. It used to be me.
This year in the French system has developed my appreciation for a different rhythm of life. Saying goodbye means I'll also be saying goodbye to 2 weeks off after every 7 weeks on (oh, those precious two weeks!) Goodbye to long lunches and goodbye to walking out the door precisely on the hour because that is what is outlined in the contract. I'm trying to tell myself this doesn't mean the end of my aspirations, but just a rescheduling of them.
In the American system, you can walk out the door on the hour, but it's often met with suspicions of a job not done (or not done well.) Which seems completely unfair, especially if you can complete your job in the time given. And I am determined to make that happen. I am determined not be overrun by guilt or by the "I-can-do-that" syndrome which often has me volunteering for all those extra projects.
One of the aspects I want to keep from the French system is their very organized reliance on data and reports. It helps immensely with identifying learners in need of support and documenting strategies implemented to help them. In reality, it is not so different from what the Americans want to do but it seems American curriculums and assessments are constantly under evaluation and in progress. Being revamped. Because the French curriculum is set by the government, there is very little teacher time invested in this aspect of education. While I may enjoy it, I have never believed that all teachers should, or want, to be writing curriculum. The French method leaves more time for teachers to determine how to meet students needs,
develop daily lessons and select just the right support materials.
Of course, the consistent vacation periods have been hugely therapeutic. I have enjoyed my freedom immensely and valued my time at home with my kids. That is one of the goals I accomplished. Work less. Play more. Or at least strike a balance between the two. It's not going to be easy to give that up. We've all learned a lot about the value of family time- some of those lessons harder come by than others.
To be fair, we've learned a lot about the value of education as well. It is not just me with my teacher's perspective that has developed qualities of preference- the boys have made some decisions also. It will be a welcome relief to be back on familiar ground, at least in one area of our lives. They've begun planning first day of school wardrobes and making plans for activities they want to join. I secretly suspect they wouldn't mind forgoing their 'summer' vacation altogether and starting school tomorrow.
I'm not quite that eager to give up my (now heavily shortened) vacation but I am happy to be crossing back over.
