altitude/attitude

            Utopia is a myth.  All communities, no matter what face they present to the world, have dark sides, and face problems that require work and trusted leadership to resolve.  It is through the resolution that we grow stronger and more unified. 

Chasing an ideal, many talented teachers step out of their mundane routines in the first world for a year or two, seeking solace in the mists of Monteverde and the open arms of our school on the hill.   They bring with them the baggage of public education, over testing, over drugged children and the daily grind (commute, debts, impersonal neighbors, time pressures and a perpetually jam-packed schedule).  Too many of them arrive with words like “magical” and “unbelievable” hanging on their lips like morning dew, hungry for heaven on Earth.  It only takes a few months, however, for the altitude sickness to set in. 

            Let me say this clearly.  We are not a perfect school.  The kids don’t all just get along, holding hands and singing songs while writing their own curriculum and hugging trees.  There is far too much mold and ugly construction up here for this place to be heaven.  There is far too much trash on the street (and our school pathways) for us to declare our mission accomplished.  However, it is indeed among the most beautiful natural areas on the planet.  It is indeed a small, tight knit, peace loving community, and everyone has a kind greeting in the morning, knows your name and who you kissed last week, whether you like it or not.  The school is a place where people support each other, the kids are independently motivated, and are not afraid to speak their minds.  However, like any institution, there is a process for everything, there are disagreements between staff and fights among students.  And, as with anything change takes time and is only sometimes necessary…

Every year new staff members arrive with their bags packed overfull with new ideas to help the school, and they are welcomed.  Most prove to be inspirational, helpful and constructive.  Their new ideas mix with the old and, so it goes.  We could plaster one half of the school with all the new policies, rules and ideas that have been put into action by our staff, students and parents.  We could cover the other half plus a couple of more schools with all the ideas that still sit on the table.   I’m not sure why, but each year without fail we get one or two teachers who try to change everything from the ground up, to fit some vision of utopia that obviously they’d cooked up well before stepping foot on our enchanted grounds.  Frankly, I’m losing my patience with them. 

A teacher was just dismissed from the school last week, largely because he complained loudly and virulently about perceived injustices and inequalities in the school, ignoring due process and repeatedly insulting the school director and other staff members in his search for (re)solutions.  When dismissed, he turned to the students, told them his version of what had happened, sparing no names or details, passed out private communications with administration in class and called for them to rise up, which they did, not fully understanding why.  They just liked their teacher and were sad to see the guy go, though it turned out he was only planning to stay because he couldn’t find work in the US.

This year, more than any other in my 12 years working as an educator, I’ve seen due process ignored, insults and complaints used in lieu of constructive criticism, and my school community successfully divided by the efforts of a couple of individuals.  This division echoes in the student body, runs over our parents and breaks my heart.  Towards the end of my first year here (and before I met my wife) I decided to stay on at the school, largely because of the way our staff, administrators, parents and students shared one thing in common: they all went out of their way to support each other, often volunteering time and money well outside of normal obligation to make everything from theater productions building efforts, to something as simple as an indoor recess run smoothly and efficiently.   We help each other because it’s the right thing to do, not just because it’s in our contract.  It is that spirit of unity and shared responsibility that is threatened by these individuals, who place fights over class schedules, staff compensation and curriculum above the “what can I do to help?” attitude that should be driving the school.  They fight tooth and nail, go behind backs when they don’t feel like they’re winning their fight, and ultimately leave the school in flurry of conflict. 

I love all the new ideas, and certainly give credit to those that have bettered the school during their short tenure here.  But those that poison the well and leave make me feel sometimes like there should be rule against proposing changes until after one’s second year at least…

I’m writing this because we have five weeks left of the school year, and right now the place I love is hurting.  Misinformation and manipulation of students’ emotions have left us rudderless (or perhaps in possession of too many rudders, all trying to take the boat in different directions) for the moment.  We need good positive energy, we need inspiration, we need to concentrate on wrapping up the year and graduation, and more than anything, we need respect and unity.  In short, we need to heal and move on.  This is how I process and find closure.  I thank Sandra immensely for staying with the baby for awhile while I wrote this.     

Comments

[arjuna]

so sorry to hear about this, ja. let me know if there's anything i can do to help. i can't imagine what that would be, but i'll send some positive vibes.a

[Ryan]

Sounds awful, brother. I hope that cool heads and cool people win out in the end.

[Ryan]

ps. If you haven't already, get your mitts on a copy of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay - it's Michael Chabon's historical fiction opus on Jewish kids creating the comic book business in the '30s and '40s (it also has WWII and the Golum of Prague thrown in for good measure). It's -excellent-.

[Max]

What are you nuts? I worked at that same school and you say "perceived" injustices. I guess that all depends on who is perceiving. I volunteered at this school for a year, I donated generously to this school and I worked at this school for two years and I will tell you that I quit this school after only knowing the new Director six months. Talk about poison. I told the Foundation at that time that I would not give this school another dime until the day the Director of this School quits or is fired. I love this school and I loved my job. I just couldn't work for a narcissistic, manipulating, pathological liar anymore. I'm not being negative. I'm just being honest. Gee and guess what? I'm not the only one.

[Jesse]

What a shame "Max" that you would choose to punish students and families by not helping out with scholarships due to a personal feud with the school director.

[Max]

On the contrary, I just pledged a donation to help a CEC student who received a full scholarship to a private school in the states. This donation will go directly to the private school (not to the CEC) in the states to help cover this student's expenses for the year. I just don't give to the foundation or to the CEC anymore because I DON'T TRUST THE SCHOOL DIRECTOR WITH ANY FUNDS AT ALL. And I don't see it as punishing the students and families. It's the school director who is punishing. If only he would leave. He clearly does not care about the school, the students, the families, the teachers or the staff. And I know many people who have stopped giving to this school because of the school director. I think it is the only way we feel we can empower ourselves in a situation that has gone on for four years and seems hopeless.