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Utvecklingsinstruktör berättar (engelsk text)

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Development Instructor=DI, Utvecklingsinstruktör/volontär

Getting out of my comfort zone and liking it! DI in Mozambique

I had a hard time working with kids. I couldn´t relate to them and felt uncomfortable around them. So when the time came for me to choose which "job description" I would have in Mozambique, I chose the Teacher Training College in rural Macuse because I would be working with adults. For my first two months in Mozambique, I taught English and led the theater club at the college. But then Cecilia, another Development Instructor who was about to leave Macuse, asked me if I would take over her projects. This meant coordinating three preschools in the surrounding villages, teaching an open English class for interested community members, and teaching an after-school literacy program for third graders in the primary school. After some thought, I took on the jobs.

I was apprehensive, to say the least. I would be working solely with the teachers in the preschools, giving support and organizing meetings with the parents, so I was safe from the dreaded toodlers. The English class wasn´t an issue, because all the students were teenage boys. But the third graders scared me. Looking back, I guess I was afraid of unruly kids being, well...unruly. Besides, how was I supposed to teach them to read and write in Portuguese, a language I barely understood myself? Despite my concerns, the after-school program turned out to be the most rewarding of all my projects in Mozambique.

The educational system in Mozambique and many other sub-Saharan nations is quite different from what we´re used to in the western world. The standard method of education is common were the teachers stands in front of his pupils and yells out numbers or the alphabet. The students then yell the information back as a group or one by one. Teachers routinely hit children to enforce order. The method of education does not in any way promote independent, critical thinking; in fact it discourages it.

I was amazed to find that a simple, open ended question would usually elicit blank stares and worried looks from my students. Even something as simple as "What is your favourite colour? was confusing for these kids. I could see their eyes darting back and forth, no doubt wondering "What´s the right answer? What does he want me to say?" This was a result of the enduring legacy of colonial education-children weren´t concerned with actually learning, only with pleasing the teacher. I believe that these thought patterns, constantly reinforced in school, affect how an individual will deal with larger issues in their adult life, whether it be poverty, AIDS or employment. Children should be empowered and encouraged to think critically or they won´t be able to find solutions to their own problems as adults.

I grew frustrated and tired with my students. They would blurt out responses without even thinking about the questions. They could follow clear instructions and complete tasks, but their overall knowledge and ability didn´t seem to change. (Again, their ultimate goal was not to learning, but to pleasing me.) We played spelling games and held class competitions, which were a huge hit, but I still felt like I wasn´t getting through to their young minds. They sat in rows and watched me as one might absently watch television. What was this crazy white teacher going to do next?

One day, I had enough. I decided that it was more important for these kids to use their brain and their creativity than to practice reading and writing. I told everybody to follow me outside and sit in a circle in the school yard. The kids looked rather baffled; they had never had a teacher do this before! I told them that we were all going to take turns creating a story. I began with several sentences of something generic that could be the beginning to your standard-fare children story. I turned to the student next to me and asked him to continue the story, and received the same blank look I had become so accustomed to. None of the students seemed to understand what I was asking. I probed and explained a little more until a couple of the older students understood and started helping the younger ones with the concept. Slowly, with lots of assistance and encouragement, my students began to add their own bits and pieces to our tale. There were alligator-infested beaches, talking dogs, and magic forests. The enthusiasm slowly grew until the kids were actually enjoying themselves-a rarity in their school environment.

The sad day eventually came when I had to tell my class good-bye. I explained that I had to leave Mozambique for my own country, and that this was our last class. There was a period of silence, and then a young girl asked, "So we´ll see you on Monday?" With tears stinging my eyes, I once again told them that, no, I wouldn´t teach them on Monday or ever again. That day, as I walked down the road to my house, the children followed me, singing our favourite class song, the Portuguese version of "The Itsy-bitsy Spider" With a lump in my throat, I waved good-bye and entered my house.

(publicerad på Biståndsföreningen HUMANA Sveriges hemsida den 26/10-06)