Remembering Hope & Joy
I'll begin with a story. I spent the last four days on a small hostel/ranch/community center/aspiring eco-destination called Rancho Esperanza in the isolated fishing village of Jiquilillo. The owner of the ranch, Nato (Nate), was born in Maine and has been involved with the village for eleven years, living there full time for the last eight.
Six years ago Nate began an after school program for the youth of Jiquilillo. They work with young people ages three to seventeen every day from noon to 4:00. It runs in practice as a democratic educational space. The young people show up when they want to and use the community center's resources to create art projects, learn English, teach visiting tourists Spanish, and play.
Last night before leaving the ranch I was talking with Nate and Stephanie (who is the only other full-time resident of the ranch and community center staff) about their program, the community and the young people that they work with. We spoke about the changes to the local economy. Due to new fishing methods (blowing up dynamite in the water to kill more fish at once), there are less fish in the area, competition for a reasonable market share is getting tighter, and the future of local fishing is looking less promising.
We spoke about the potential influx of a tourist industry that could take over the community; the community still has a chance to create a locally controlled tourist industry that they can benefit from. We spoke about isolation in the community, and the struggle the local community has organizing around these issues. We spoke about the future the children of the community have to look forward to; when asked about their future, most girls talk about wanting to be mothers (and many of them are before the age of 15), while boys talk about wanting to be fishermen (though fishing jobs are getting harder to come by).
To be honest, the conversation got me pretty hopeless. So I asked Nate, "Do you have goals for these kids that come to the community center? What is it that you hope to accomplish here?"
Now before I get to Nate's response I need to insert a bit of a disclaimer. I am from New York. I spent seven years as a teacher in the New York City public schools, and I continue to work with them today. I say this because for better or worse (and I happen to believe it is both) spending time in the New York City public schools can't help but bring out your inner pragmatist. I have to be clear here that I do not mean to juxtapose pragmatism with idealism. In fact, my ideals about what education should look like takes no back seat to my pragmatism. That being said ,I have become more interested in being able to show people that what I value about education works and is what should be valued. I have certainly learned how to talk about the practical gains that come from the education that I practice, and I have learned the language to present it in (leadership development, cultivating creativity, life skills, college or "real world" readiness).
Nate did not study educational philosophy. He has never heard of democratic education. He has no use for any of the ed world jargon that I so often refer to. He simply looked at me and, as though with my own voice, said, "I just think that it's really important for young people to have a place to play, to enjoy life, to have someone pay attention to them. And that's what I want to do here. I want to give them a place where they can experience joy."
It was a gentle shock to my system. Somehow being out of my everyday context, in the midst of a different kind of poverty, I fell into the exact trap that I spend much of my time fighting against. I became overwhelmed by what I saw as a lack of options for the young people in this community. And while it is certainly true that they have fewer options open in front of them, I forgot what I believe about people and education.
There are no answers. There is no one best way to live. Nobody has figured it all out. As the song goes, "We're just babies..." And as long as people are working together, caring about each other and finding joy... yo tengo esperanza.
The word "esperanza" means "hope."
And Nate's hostel/community center, El Rancho Esperanza, (El Rancho de Nato as the locals called) is certainly a place of hope.
-Jonah
P.S. As much as I love asking questions, I'd really like to start responding to yours. Please start sending them in .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address), and don't forget to tell your friends.
"I'd rather know some of the questions than have all of the answers..."
Posted in Global EducationDemEd in Real LifeSocial JusticeYouth Leadership on Dec 27, 2009 - 02:41 PM
I am currently on vacation in Nicaragua, and while I have been doing a lot of thinking, I have not been doing very much writing, as is wont to happen from time to time. And with thinking inevitably comes questioning. So what better place to explore some of those questions than here?I'll begin with a story. I spent the last four days on a small hostel/ranch/community center/aspiring eco-destination called Rancho Esperanza in the isolated fishing village of Jiquilillo. The owner of the ranch, Nato (Nate), was born in Maine and has been involved with the village for eleven years, living there full time for the last eight.
Six years ago Nate began an after school program for the youth of Jiquilillo. They work with young people ages three to seventeen every day from noon to 4:00. It runs in practice as a democratic educational space. The young people show up when they want to and use the community center's resources to create art projects, learn English, teach visiting tourists Spanish, and play.
Last night before leaving the ranch I was talking with Nate and Stephanie (who is the only other full-time resident of the ranch and community center staff) about their program, the community and the young people that they work with. We spoke about the changes to the local economy. Due to new fishing methods (blowing up dynamite in the water to kill more fish at once), there are less fish in the area, competition for a reasonable market share is getting tighter, and the future of local fishing is looking less promising.
We spoke about the potential influx of a tourist industry that could take over the community; the community still has a chance to create a locally controlled tourist industry that they can benefit from. We spoke about isolation in the community, and the struggle the local community has organizing around these issues. We spoke about the future the children of the community have to look forward to; when asked about their future, most girls talk about wanting to be mothers (and many of them are before the age of 15), while boys talk about wanting to be fishermen (though fishing jobs are getting harder to come by).
To be honest, the conversation got me pretty hopeless. So I asked Nate, "Do you have goals for these kids that come to the community center? What is it that you hope to accomplish here?"
Now before I get to Nate's response I need to insert a bit of a disclaimer. I am from New York. I spent seven years as a teacher in the New York City public schools, and I continue to work with them today. I say this because for better or worse (and I happen to believe it is both) spending time in the New York City public schools can't help but bring out your inner pragmatist. I have to be clear here that I do not mean to juxtapose pragmatism with idealism. In fact, my ideals about what education should look like takes no back seat to my pragmatism. That being said ,I have become more interested in being able to show people that what I value about education works and is what should be valued. I have certainly learned how to talk about the practical gains that come from the education that I practice, and I have learned the language to present it in (leadership development, cultivating creativity, life skills, college or "real world" readiness).
Nate did not study educational philosophy. He has never heard of democratic education. He has no use for any of the ed world jargon that I so often refer to. He simply looked at me and, as though with my own voice, said, "I just think that it's really important for young people to have a place to play, to enjoy life, to have someone pay attention to them. And that's what I want to do here. I want to give them a place where they can experience joy."
It was a gentle shock to my system. Somehow being out of my everyday context, in the midst of a different kind of poverty, I fell into the exact trap that I spend much of my time fighting against. I became overwhelmed by what I saw as a lack of options for the young people in this community. And while it is certainly true that they have fewer options open in front of them, I forgot what I believe about people and education.
There are no answers. There is no one best way to live. Nobody has figured it all out. As the song goes, "We're just babies..." And as long as people are working together, caring about each other and finding joy... yo tengo esperanza.
The word "esperanza" means "hope."
And Nate's hostel/community center, El Rancho Esperanza, (El Rancho de Nato as the locals called) is certainly a place of hope.
-Jonah
P.S. As much as I love asking questions, I'd really like to start responding to yours. Please start sending them in .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address), and don't forget to tell your friends.
"I'd rather know some of the questions than have all of the answers..."
Tags for this entry:
hope,
creativity,
real-life learning,
community,
joy of learning,
leadership,
global education
comments
Ammerah Saidi
Pragmatism and idealism—we’re always at that fence painfully on it or further off to one side. True words.
I experienced the same “gentle shock” as you called it when I visited my home country for the first time in 2008. In Yemen, when I’d visit the rural parts, children would run up to my guide’s car and up to me and beg me—not for money or food—but for pens or pencils. “Indish galem?” Do you have a pencil? Our instinct is to feel bad and think of ways to implement our civilized ways of teaching and learning into these communities not realizing they have their own untarnished practices to share with the world.
This brings to mind the work of Greg Mortenson in Afghanistan and Pakistan. He helped established schools in politically unstable areas not by imposing his designs or beliefs but rather by first sharing “three cups of tea” with the people of these villages to hear what they envisioned, what they needed. His sequel, Stones into Schools, is also worth reading for the same insight, but this time from his first person perspective.
Thanks for reminding me to check my judgements.
on Jan 12, 2010 - 12:15 AM