The god of small things

Or the things of small gods. Or maybe small gods of things.

I'm not quite sure which one yet.

(but my postmaterialist self (thanks Malvi) is somewhat skeptical about the second two)--but this isn't going to be about the God of Small Things--saddelicious as it is by itself.

But the close of the semester has also been somewhat saddelicious--or maybe frusturatingdelicious, because it's brought to the surface a lot of the tensions I feel with a) assessment in general and assigning something as dynamic as person/their work and growth over the past 16 weeks with something as staticemotionless as a number (but then having to rationalize to them those impersonal numbers, and 'take ownership of them'), and b) the academic culture here, especially around assessment.

Today was, shall I say, hopefully me hitting rock bottom. And after almost starting to cry because a colleague really doesn't know how to read other people's emotions, and therefore didn't quite get the message that I was done with him lecturing me about how bad my albanian was, and how studying Albanian grammar was pointless (because we all have 'human grammar' so why try to learn the grammar of another language?. yeah. not the best conversation to have today, especially because Albanian grammar is not exactly intuitive, or predictable--at least to my novice eyes. and it's damn hard for me to learn through emersion without some sort of vague gramatical frame to throw my language-encounters up against).

Durres--not to confuse anyone.
Tetovo still doesn't have the sea

And this week has also just been a extended conversation with various people about how broken elements of the educational system are here--and how little people think they can do about it. how powerless we are--which to me also can imply the 'why bother resisting when they'll just find some other way to override you? so just play by their rules, however shitty they are and make the whole process shorter' attitude. and my consciousness, well, it hasn't been beaten just yet. and it won't shut up.

Durres

These issues--especially around academic cultural differences--are made even more 'real' by my growing realization that I will be here for (at least) another year. I signed a contract yesterday to teach 10th and 11th grade Social Studies (what!? teach the Russian Revolution? the age of enlightenment? the cold war!? imperialism? the 1960's? I can't wait) and 11th grade literature (suggestions welcome! the idea is to tie the literature into the social studies curriculum. which sounds super cool) at a local private school. After what feels like an eternity (but was really just a month. how does time feel so fastslowfastslow) of saying 'I will sign it,' 'I will sign it': it finally happened.

Which is thrilling.

But especially in light of these tensions I'm feeling around being engaged in the academic culture here, this also means that these problems aren't going anywhere fast because neither Tetovo nor I am up and leaving just yet, so we (you and I, Tetovo, you and I) are going to have to find a way to live in peace together.

Durres

But [Enter stage right: God of Small Things], going out, spending time with my thoughts and the whirl of my bicycle wheels, and the wildflowers, I realized that tensions or not, if I can only, just for one moment, pull my gaze up out of my gradebooks and e-mail, and really see. let the light, the boys throwing rocks into the river yelling after me 'but where are you from?', and backlit wheat into my brain, that's when this tension starts to be resolved on its own. because its easy to get lost in technology,  wrapped up in the impersonal rapidfire communication of end-of-year madness, overrun by the cold numbers we distill our students down to (and the ferocity and coldbloodndness with which they fight back (this week students have said 'oh. I can't do your required course work (second chance to pass the class) because I need to go dress shopping,' 'but teacher I tried. and that's what grades are for [wink wink]' 'but you're course is just an elective (so why should I have to work for a grade)? and, the kicker 'I signed up for a class with you [meaning my co-teacher] not Claire'--and after a week of hearing these things, I begin to question what, if anything, we accomplished in the past 16 weeks. or if it's really all about a number--and nothing more).

and that kills me. these are future teachers--what about love? what about curiosity? what about change? or hope? quest for knowledge? what is delicious, and what is our quest for it? we spent so much of the course identifying the specific problems the students felt they encountered in their own educations, and spoke with such passion about how these were the things that needed to change--and I know. it's hard to find this harmony between theory and your own daily practice--in any regard. change starting at home is never easy (speaking as a woman living in the Balkans this rings even truer). but where else can it start? how can I be both empathetic with them, and also push them to push themselves?

and from this place, yes.  it's true. I can forget about beauty, and just see the factories--spewing smog and graduating students. and trying to turn a profit.

and today--I think because I had hit this wall--I logged out and went to go find everything that I've been missing: smells, colors, flowers, honking horns, textures, grit, exhaust fumes, sheep herds, and all. and just be.

and somehow, this quietness of just drinking in what is around me, this is what keeps me sane. and keeps me rooted here. it's these small details that remind me, that yes, life is also beautiful. if we only let ourselves see it. let our selves live in it.


.

life as the school shepherdess: let's do this with dignity

if anyone told me teaching was like herding cats--folks, I must have missed it.

But now I know. oh lord do I know.

(so for anyone else who missed the memo) Teaching is like herding cats. but even worse, because honestly, what would you want with a room full of cats (one cat is plenty enough for me)?

Classes finished nearly two weeks ago, but I'm still trying to track down student work--I've sent e-mails  I've re-sent e-mails, sent e-mails in all caps and I'm almost to the point where want to just lurk around the rooms where students are taking exams and not let them leave until they give me their work). And, yes, while I understand that doing work isn't always the highest priority (spring, graduation looming, end of classes...) I also don't quite comprehend the logic of failing classes this close to graduation--especially for something as stupid as not turning in a 3-5 page paper. In part because I think students are used to being able to strong-arm their way into passing--perhaps without actually deserving the grade.

Tomorrow I have consultation hours for one of my classes--so students can come and talk about their grades--and honestly I'm nervous. Because students put on their 'aggressive face' and I whip out my 'stickler-for-rules-bitch face' and, well, the combination isn't always pretty.

But I think 'how to have a disagreement with professors' is going on my list of topics I'd love to talk to students about (along with the usual suspects of plagiarism, how to see a thesis when it hits you in the face, and how to hit other people with your thesis, the beauty of revision)--because it's one of the teacher/student dynamics that I've experienced here which has been really unsettling for me.

And, sadly, I think a lot of teachers feel compelled to play along by this game--or at least by these rules. It's hard to actually fail students--because there are plenty of second chances (make up exams, summer school) and so I think there is some pressure to just move them through (someone actually said as we were talking about final exam results 'remember. there is summer school. do you want to be here for it?' suggesting that students should be passed along so we don't have to sit here and swelter with them for two weeks over the summer (and instead pull out our hair about them next year). Which I'm not sure is the best attitude towards student assessment--but it also does put teachers in rather uncomfortable positions. Furthermore, there is something inherently unfair about giving students a chance to receive the same credit for a 16 week course over two week intensive in the summer. firstly, some ideas take time to mature. secondly, the math just doesn't add up (to me at least. I'm sure the university has some logic behind it. whether or not I would agree with it is another story).

And after ranting about this situation last night (with a lot of really loud hand motions), Zeko took my hands and said--and it made me so happy to hear this from someone-- don't give in, and furthermore you shouldn't.
yes. you have principles. and we have principles for a reason--and we can live by/with/inside/for them.

and I'm brought back to Kropotkin's quote: "Think about what kind of world you want to live and work in. What do you need to know to build that world? Demand that your teachers teach you that." 

The inverse of it though, is that as a teacher we also have responsibilities/the responsibility to teach for the kind of society we want to live in, the world we want to work, to be in. It's not just student responsibility--it's civic responsibility, to be engaged in this dialogue about what kind of society we really want to build together. As a teacher--especially teaching a class called 'Education and Society' I was always grappling with this question of how/if/will what I'm teaching--a verb I have some disagreements with, but anyhow--what I'm sharing with students is what we need to build this society, and to assess what the realties/problems/challenges are on the ground which shape/impact(/control? although I fear using this word only reifies how out of their control people see reality as, so take it with a grain of salt) reality now. 

Which then--to bring this full circle--also makes this period of the semester so so so much more frustrating because we've spent the past 16 weeks talking about what it means to be a student, a teacher, hidden curriculum and implicit messages. meritocracy (and some of the problems posed by systems based on merit)--using education to really change society, and the importance of dignity and maintaining dignity, respect. and then, it seems, this process of grades--of assessing someone (a livingbreathingspeakingwalkingbeing) with a number--all of this gets flung out the window, baby, bathwater and all. and as a teacher, I object to having to do this, but ok folks. let's do this with dignity.