You probably already know all about the squeaky wheel and its grease. I used to live by that mantra. But, it's been my experience that just as often, the squeaky wheel doesn't get any grease. It gets replaced. And, I can tell you first-hand that getting replaced is not so much fun. So, over the course of my life, I've changed and I don't really squeak all that much.
But, back in my Peace Corps days, I squeaked. And, I'm still completely convinced that it was entirely justified.
In my first year in Liberia, I was supposed to supervise five schools that were implementing a program sponsored by the U.S. Agency for International Development. The problem was, I was absolutely and completely convinced that the program was stupid. Another word that starts with "s" comes to mind, but right now I'm going to stick with stupid. Now usually, I'm the kind of person who snickers in the back of the room whispering clever, sarcastic remarks. My friends enjoy the comments, but the people who need to hear my words of wisdom never, ever do. However, this project was so stupid that I just couldn't sit back and mutter. I told everyone there was to tell at Peace Corps, US AID and the Liberian Ministry of Education how I felt.
It didn't make me a very popular Peace Corps Volunteer.
I imagine I need to explain myself here. In all my years since Peace Corps, I've never found anyone who disagrees with me. Don't be the first. So, here's the way it worked. The whole goal was to come up with a program that was incompetent teacher proof. Why not come up with a way to train the teachers to be competent? That was never discussed. In grades one, two and three, the teachers had a script to read to their students from a booklet. It didn't matter if the teacher or the students understood the text. As long as the words were read, and then repeated in unison by the class, everyone proceeded on to the next page. As bad as that was, grades four, five and six were even worse. Teachers were considered too incompetent to even present the information. Students worked in groups of five or six. Each table had a different subject. For two days kids at one table studied math while other tables studied English, history and any other subject. I know that students in Ohio who can read, are somewhat motivated and attend school on a regular basis would never learn anything in this environment. Nobody wants the same subject all day long for two days! And, I've never personally witnessed a group of students teach themselves without the guidance of their teacher.
So, I squeaked.
Now, I never heard if there was actually a meeting about me. But, I'm 99.99% sure that there had to be a discussion. It was decided that I wasn't going to be in the same program during my second year. But, what to do with this squeaker? Send me home? I imagine that was one option considered. Fortunately, miraculously, they came up with an alternative project that I couldn't refuse. And, I honestly believe that I wouldn't have been allowed not to accept it.
Liberian schools didn't have adequate school libraries. They might have second-hand books from the States, but none of them were culturally relevant. My job was to collect Liberian folktales. It was an amazing opportunity and just a perfect fit for me.
The job wasn't as easy as you might expect. Many people didn't want to share stories because they were certain I was really just going to publish them for myself and get rich. I heard lots of stories from people that just rambled on and on and still further on with no real plot line. It was even worse if the story teller had too much palm wine, the local brew of choice. I edited and changed things at will to give the stories a beginning, a plot and a conclusion.
In the end of the year, I compiled my stories and turned them over to the Ministry of Education. I never got any kind of feedback about my work. And, two weeks after I left the country, the civil war started that ripped Liberia apart. I'm sure everything I wrote was lost.
But, I kept a copy for myself.
I posted three of my favorite folktales on my website. Occasionally, I hear from readers - even Liberians - who enjoy the read. That always makes my day.
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, an interesting email came my way. It was from a woman working at an NGO in Liberia. Her project was with libraries throughout the country and it included creating reading materials. She wanted to know if she could use my three folktales. Not only could she use them, but I had a collection of fifty stories to pass along to her. It took a long while for those stories to find their way into the hands of Liberian readers. But, it is extremely satisfying to know that something I did so long ago in Africa will still have a positive impact with young readers today.
Like I said at the start, I don't squeak so much these days. When necessary I still snicker in the back of the room with my friends. But, I am forever grateful that I was a squeaky wheel while I was in the Peace Corps.
But, back in my Peace Corps days, I squeaked. And, I'm still completely convinced that it was entirely justified.
In my first year in Liberia, I was supposed to supervise five schools that were implementing a program sponsored by the U.S. Agency for International Development. The problem was, I was absolutely and completely convinced that the program was stupid. Another word that starts with "s" comes to mind, but right now I'm going to stick with stupid. Now usually, I'm the kind of person who snickers in the back of the room whispering clever, sarcastic remarks. My friends enjoy the comments, but the people who need to hear my words of wisdom never, ever do. However, this project was so stupid that I just couldn't sit back and mutter. I told everyone there was to tell at Peace Corps, US AID and the Liberian Ministry of Education how I felt.
It didn't make me a very popular Peace Corps Volunteer.
I imagine I need to explain myself here. In all my years since Peace Corps, I've never found anyone who disagrees with me. Don't be the first. So, here's the way it worked. The whole goal was to come up with a program that was incompetent teacher proof. Why not come up with a way to train the teachers to be competent? That was never discussed. In grades one, two and three, the teachers had a script to read to their students from a booklet. It didn't matter if the teacher or the students understood the text. As long as the words were read, and then repeated in unison by the class, everyone proceeded on to the next page. As bad as that was, grades four, five and six were even worse. Teachers were considered too incompetent to even present the information. Students worked in groups of five or six. Each table had a different subject. For two days kids at one table studied math while other tables studied English, history and any other subject. I know that students in Ohio who can read, are somewhat motivated and attend school on a regular basis would never learn anything in this environment. Nobody wants the same subject all day long for two days! And, I've never personally witnessed a group of students teach themselves without the guidance of their teacher.
So, I squeaked.
Now, I never heard if there was actually a meeting about me. But, I'm 99.99% sure that there had to be a discussion. It was decided that I wasn't going to be in the same program during my second year. But, what to do with this squeaker? Send me home? I imagine that was one option considered. Fortunately, miraculously, they came up with an alternative project that I couldn't refuse. And, I honestly believe that I wouldn't have been allowed not to accept it.
Liberian schools didn't have adequate school libraries. They might have second-hand books from the States, but none of them were culturally relevant. My job was to collect Liberian folktales. It was an amazing opportunity and just a perfect fit for me.
The job wasn't as easy as you might expect. Many people didn't want to share stories because they were certain I was really just going to publish them for myself and get rich. I heard lots of stories from people that just rambled on and on and still further on with no real plot line. It was even worse if the story teller had too much palm wine, the local brew of choice. I edited and changed things at will to give the stories a beginning, a plot and a conclusion.
In the end of the year, I compiled my stories and turned them over to the Ministry of Education. I never got any kind of feedback about my work. And, two weeks after I left the country, the civil war started that ripped Liberia apart. I'm sure everything I wrote was lost.
But, I kept a copy for myself.
I posted three of my favorite folktales on my website. Occasionally, I hear from readers - even Liberians - who enjoy the read. That always makes my day.
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, an interesting email came my way. It was from a woman working at an NGO in Liberia. Her project was with libraries throughout the country and it included creating reading materials. She wanted to know if she could use my three folktales. Not only could she use them, but I had a collection of fifty stories to pass along to her. It took a long while for those stories to find their way into the hands of Liberian readers. But, it is extremely satisfying to know that something I did so long ago in Africa will still have a positive impact with young readers today.
Like I said at the start, I don't squeak so much these days. When necessary I still snicker in the back of the room with my friends. But, I am forever grateful that I was a squeaky wheel while I was in the Peace Corps.
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