stop filling, start kindling already

My kids attend one of the “best” schools in Doha.  It’s so competitive to get into international schools at all here that we felt very lucky that our kids were accepted at this one last fall.  At back-to-school assemblies this year the general message was “We have such a great school!  We help our students succeed! Success! Greatness! Success! Greatness!” It is easy to imagine for a moment that we should at all costs remain in Doha until our youngest is ready for college (she just turned five), and there are plenty of families that extend contracts for the sole reason of letting their children continue their studies there.  Over the past week or so, as my son struggles to get the hang of the system and meet expectations in the middle school, I have begun to realize why we may not be ideally suited after all.  I’m starting to suspect that their goals are not about helping the kids discover their own greatness as much as having greatness poured into and over them until they cannot help but succeed, on the school’s terms.  Over and over again I come back to this quote:

I’m not an expert in educational theory but my life has revolved around education since I was 5, with very few breaks: I spent 13 years in public primary and secondary schools, and I have bachelors and masters degrees. I taught English as a second language in Taiwan for 18 months, to all ages, in a range of settings from private individual lessons to classes of 40+ middle schoolers. I’ve worked on adapting Korean preschool curricula for an international student body.  My three kids have cumulatively attended 12 different schools, public in Georgia and California, and private in Vermont, Bangladesh, Vietnam, and Qatar, altogether three preschools, six elementary schools, a 4/5 academy, an accredited homeschool program, and a middle school.

I agree that my son has plenty of work to do to improve his study skills and sense of accountability for his actions, I just don’t agree with it was framed by the school’s learning specialist.  At our meeting, she only referenced teachers who observed problems, but there was no evidence that she had talked to the teachers who had seen his best work.  She presented the issue as a problem that needed external input in order to fix, but the key person necessary to fixing it was sitting right in front of her, in tears, while she told him it was inappropriate for 7th graders to cry.  From my experience working with kids and the example of skilled colleagues, I know we need to acknowledge their active role in their own change and empathize with the challenge of it as well.

The learning specialist’s justification for the work my son needs to do fell flat. He needs to learn study skills to he can succeed on exams in high school and college? He needs to learn accountability so that he doesn’t get fired from his job and thus lose his car and income he was planning to use on non-work-related happiness? I agree that he needs to work on time management and focus but not in order to study for exams in high school or college. He needs them so he can use those study skills to prepare for any challenge that comes his way, and I doubt he’s motivated by threats regarding his life post-college.   

I want all of my kids, and all kids, really, to learn not because it’s a good practice to memorize things that don’t have any meaning to their lives just so they can regurgitate them in an exam, or to aspire to a job that is only to make money to improve their time-off experiences, but because it has relevance to their lives and is engaging and inspiring. Yes, even math and ancient history.   I love it when a subject sparks such interest that they continue to look into it and discuss it outside of school. 

I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I don’t have a tidy ending because I’m still in the midst of dealing with it.  All I can finish with for now are questions and ideas that it’s raised for me, on which I am continuing to work:

Our international transient lifestyle has been due to my husband’s job, working on making education accessible and practical to everyone in an area, not just the boys or the rich or the ethnic majority. Often this means supporting schools to which we would probably never consider sending our kids, but which have been a lifeline for some of the kids that have had the opportunity to attend them, many of whom have grown into successful adults who continue to contribute to their country and the world’s wellbeing.  I wonder if it’s worth it to start a ruckus just because one kid is having a hard time and I believe that the school isn’t approaching the problem the way I’d like them to.  The school fees (thankfully borne by my husband’s employer, though the irony of that, considering that he is in the field of education in development, is not lost on me) that are $42,783.63 this year, nearly half of which is middle school tuition. For the record, I do like the school a lot.  I am very impressed by the elementary school program in particular, the depth to which my daughter is studying her subjects, and quality of the presentations by her and her classmates.

Why would I have different expectations for the schools supported by my husband's work than for my son’s school- just because we paid more it? just because he is both male and relatively rich, and if not the ethnic majority in Doha, certainly a dominant ethnic group?

I keep coming back to wondering how we should define success and who should take part in deciding that, and feeling more and more strongly that supporting students, especially international students somehow, doesn’t mean bringing them up to a standard by teaching them “new things” as much as helping them understand where they’re at and how to practice looking within themselves for motivation and engagement.

slut shaming, flogging, and freedom

A friend posted this article yesterday: Does slut-shaming start with school dress codes?  It caught my eye because I’d read another article about the girl in Florida, and because it was a story from Al Jazeera America, and Al Jazeera is based in Qatar.

It’s not news that girls and women are subject to mixed messages about what image they should project. The article says that schools’ ‘hide your body’ message combines destructively with celebrity behavior that suggests women will be empowered by exposing as much skin as possible. The hyperfocus on the ideal (thin, toned, young) body in advertising and media does the same thing.  It’s not just an American problem.  Here’s a sign from the mall here in Doha: 

Here’s a picture of a Barbie display at a toy store in the same mall, at about 5-year-old head height.

The healthiest body environment I’ve experienced was when I worked at a camp where the rule was no body talk.  It prevented girls at the from comparing their bodies at the waterfront or in the cabins, from saying oooh you are so thin, look how fat my thighs are, wow she’s so developed.  Leaving the comparisons and self-criticism behind freed us to celebrate our bodies for all the amazing things they can do. I try to carry this attitude along with me now. 

And then I got curious about whether Al Jazeera had covered anything remotely similar about girls elsewhere in the world and a quick search brought up this article: Enforcing modesty on the poor in Sudan. The immediate consequences for nonconformity to clothing norms are wildly different from Florida to Sudan: public humiliation in the US, arrest and flogging in Sudan. One Sudanese woman, a business owner, was “fortunate” to be arrested and subject to a trial closed to the media because she was not likely to be flogged. The people quoted in the article talk about personal beliefs, how laws on what women should wear unfairly target poor and immigrant segments of the population and the responsibility of the government to uphold human rights- all of which together could be a useful lens for looking at the issues in the American article as well. 

On a personal level, this brings up issues I struggle with here- respecting people’s faith and culture and how they want them manifest in their lives, while believing that people should wear what they want, not be forced or judged by someone else who says they should hide parts of their bodies. I respect that women exercise their own decisions to cover themselves but also agree with the people quoted in the American article that point out that putting the responsibility of boys and men’s actions on girls and women objectifies the woman and, I add, disempowers the men. Over the past year that we have lived in this compound, my older daughter’s friends on our street have been donning hijabs and abayas, one by one, first as practice and then because they must. In our neighborhood I have chosen to completely avoid the subject of covering up while I cheer for kids using their bodies in positive ways  (dancing, biking, jumping, running, swimming) and disagree with anyone who says that they can’t do some physical activity just because they are a boy or a girl or a Muslim or a Christian. 

One fear I have about returning to the USA to live is that I will be so immersed in issues there that I will lose my perspective on what people are caring about and fighting for in other parts of the world. We have a culture of protest and sensationalism in the USA and it’s easy to get wrapped up in the high drama of inequality and mistreatment, believing that the future of freedom and democracy is at stake, if there is even any hope for it left.  I’m not saying stop being such drama queens, stop taking action.  I’m pointing out that the very act of being such drama queens and our ability to take action are signs that we are still on the right track and we have more freedom than we realize, to be able to discuss issues and make change, from the street on up through the social and news media and all the way to local and national government.  We also have freedom and opportunity to provide a safe haven for people who face more extreme consequences for nonconformity in their home country. What is a huge deal in the US might have limited relevance in other countries, where people are still working on basic human rights. Sometimes there are parallels, though, and opportunities to learn from how each community is examining and coping with the issues.

grass is greener (pet[ty] peeves)

"I think I'll move to Australia..." -from Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst

The Grass is Greener post (green here in Doha only because of workers toiling long hours in the hot sun to keep it tended, soil imported from elsewhere, and extensive irrigation; greener everywhere else because it can grow there without all the extras, also because sometimes it’s not even grass here, just dusty astroturf): because there are days when it seems like it would be so much simpler to drive, make friends, go grocery shopping, locate and retrieve lost luggage, cook dinner anywhere but here.  The veneer of wealth here can lead newcomers, as well as those of us who left for the summer and inconveniently forgot, to expect efficiency and clarity. Yes, of course I know better than to let it get to me, and that the sheer ridiculous complications in getting anything done in Doha can be entertaining all on their own, though often some time after the event. Our lost luggage experience and great gas bottle search, which both occurred in our first couple of weeks back, illustrate these well.

where we were all summer: this green grass is for real

where we are now: none of the grass in this picture is real, except the median strip at the very far right

The lost luggage situation, while ultimately successful, was a typical process. Four of us flew back into Doha after summer vacation, but unfortunately not all our bags did. The next morning I called repeatedly to inquire, but the numbers I had been given were either busy or went unanswered. Alternate numbers obtained by calling the QA general number were occasionally answered but only to tell me that they could not help me and to call one of the original numbers that no one ever answered, or to give alternate numbers at which no one could help me. I was told that one number was an internal number that I should not be calling, though everyone else gave it to me as the first number to try. The code that was supposed to work in the online inquiry did not match the format requested on the lost baggage site. Ah yes, back in Doha. Eventually I was able to confirm (by someone who initially told me I had the wrong number) that my bags had arrived but no info about when or whether they would be delivered. QA finally called two mornings later to confirm the address, and both bags were at our door within two hours of the call, though on the phone they had said they could only locate one of them.

The gas bottle for the stove burners ran out the day after the bags arrived.  I put off dealing with it for a few days, cooking for five on a single electric coil. Ever since a restaurant gas tank exploded back in February rumors have been flying around about how LPG cylinders (not the type that exploded, but still) are not available anywhere, at any price.  Riding along on that paranoia, helped by the usual unhelpfulness of the internet to get any current information about a current problem in Doha (getting specific information, by any means, about a situation or task, before it actually happens, in Doha, is very nearly impossible), I finally blocked out an entire morning to look for a gas bottle. After dropping the big kids at school, the youngest and I set out to drive until we found one.  Twenty minutes later we pulled into a Woqod station and there were stacks of gas bottles just waiting for us, and plenty of friendly men ready to take our money and exchange our old one for a new one.  In the end, having no helpful internet-sourced info or reliable phone number to call required me to go solve the problem myself while interacting with real live human beings, which is a good thing.  I'll just have to forget about grass entirely for the duration of my stay, practice putting up with the persistent lack of specific info about anything while sorting through the heaps of rumors, and accept the occasional necessity of braving the Doha morning traffic.

...or Doha.