S’keni interes fare!

One thing that I’ve learned is the relationship between students, teachers and parents. I noticed this mostly when I worked at the K-5 program before I came here, but I can confidently and without a doubt say that good parents are active in their children’s education. Unfortunately in Albania, the only time we see parents at the school is if they are begging the director not to expel their children. One of the English teachers told me that one of the parents of a flagrantly poor student told our director: “Keep him here in school; otherwise I don’t know what to do with him.” It seems like every day here I observe or hear something more unbelievable than the previous day’s events, although I’m sure many American parents have found themselves in the same position. But why and how does it get that far?

My host mom and I had a big discussion over coffee yesterday morning. What I really wanted to do was sneak into the kitchen, make some toast, and go upstairs to do some work before my lesson. What really happened is the usual: my host mom asked if I was going to drink coffee, and I said yes. That indirectly implies that she would like some too and that we’d drink it together. In fact, the very question of whether I’m making coffee implies that she would gladly drink some with me. It’s one of the things I love about Albania. I’ve had great conversations with my host mom over grainy kafe turke grounds. After a discussion about some of my volunteer friends, it turned to education in general and our school in particular.

My host mom began with her usual complaint: “Alkys (my 15-year-old host brother) is in the house all day long and doesn’t learn English, even though he has you and Sergi (my host sister). What can I do?” I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to say what I thought. “How about you deny him internet and television until he improves his grades?,” I thought. Recently, Alkys brought home a four in English that was kind of a joke in my house. A four in the Albanian system translates to an “F” in America. Sometimes being in another family and seeing how another culture raises children, I’m reminded of my own upbringing. I told my host mom that I never brought home such a low grade because it wasn’t possible. My parents didn’t leave any guesswork when it came to the consequences of unjustifiably poor performances. The closest I got was a D interim notice in 10th grade math; that alone cost me the ability to go out and work at an age where all my peers were getting jobs.

It’s a small part of my common lament: this is a largely consequence free society. Bring home an F? No problem! Speed on the highway? No problem! Didn’t get into the university you wanted? No problem! Most things are just brushed aside or paid for, and everything continues in this way. Maybe part of Alkys English deficiency comes from hours online or in front of the TV and a staggering lack of even the slightest reprimand when it comes to grades and behavior. I watch this, and I can kind of understand it, but I certainly can’t justify any of it.

My host mom’s defense was that he isn’t interested in learning. It’s something you hear frequently from teachers as well. And why should any student learn, if they can copy off their brightest peers and not face a reprimand from the director or their teachers? Where is there any incentive? In a country where people buy university enrollments and even degrees, where is the incentive? Where are the consequences? My host mom can certainly argue that she can’t do anything if my host brother doesn’t want to learn, but she has no one to blame if he’s not encouraged to do so. And as for the lack of interest, what can I as a teacher do to you if your own parents don’t care? How can I inspire you if they don’t? What good is my interest in you as a person and as a student if your own parents don’t even have it? Obviously I’m not trying to replace anyone’s parents, but teachers would probably function best if there were support and interest in their students’ home lives, which they sorely lack. One of my counterpart’s trademark lines when yelling at students is “s’keni interes fare,” meaning “you have no interest at all.” Granted, Albanian teachers often don’t do much to encourage interest. Rote learning still reigns supreme, and it leaves little room for conversation or other stimulation aside from the teacher lecturing over the students for 45 minutes. But it’s hard even when I’ve taught general lessons and tried to stimulate them, so it’s not the teachers’ fault entirely. I don’t think the answers will come any easier in year two.

The topic of funding for the school came up. It’s a bit of a sore spot for me right now after seeing how things went with the Austrians. I was going to make technology the focal point of my second year, but after spending 2 weeks in the computer lab and seeing how the students have destroyed the computers, I’m lost. I don’t understand how we have materials we don’t use and yet the desire for more things continues. Sometimes I feel like it’s all for show. I asked my director what the school needed, and he said a sound/PA system. But what purpose would that really serve? My host mom rattles off lists of materials and things we could use, but I lack the Albanian to make it clear that most grants won’t just give you “stuff.” You have to come up with a plan, a budget, a person who will maintain it, etc. And you have to hope that your students won’t ruin it in the process, which seems to be a big if. On top of that, grant writing is a huge undertaking that I refuse to do by myself. So even if I could think of something that would really be useful for the school, I’m not sure about my chances of having a consistent grant writing partner. Maybe this answer will come to me in the second year. In the meantime, there’s just this general feeling of hopelessness and the feeling that things won’t change that nags at me. Or the Albanian belief, which I know to be incorrect, that money can fix everything.