The Spaceship Problem

A few weeks back I was teaching my Form B class about forces, friction in particular. Like any good teacher I gave them classwork from their textbooks to test their understanding of the subject and within a few minutes a group of students had raised their hands to inquire about the same question.

The questions went like this:

As the American space shuttle enters the Earth’s atmosphere it gets very hot. What causes the heat? (Excel in Science, Form B)

The answer to this question goes along the lines that friction force is experienced between solids and gases and friction also releases heat. The shuttle is experiencing friction force between itself and the atmosphere and heat is therefore being released. But their questions had nothing to do with the answer. Their question was, “What is a space shuttle, madam?” It’s moments like this that I want to run to Maseru (Lesotho’s capital) find the person who wrote this book, shake them by the shoulders, and ask them “What the hell were you thinking?” Am I supposed to explain to them that humans have built these fancy ships that can leave the earth? Am I supposed to tell them that humans have landed on the moon, put flags and other mementos commemorating their achievement on it? My students are stunned that it takes 15 hours in a plane to get to Lesotho. Most of them have little to no idea what lies beyond South Africa. And here I am trying to explain a space ship to them.

I have many frustrations with being a teacher here but one of my biggest complaints is trying to teach a curriculum that wasn’t written for my students. The Lesotho primary and secondary curriculum is testing based. Every few years you take a test and only if you pass can you go on to the next level. The students I teach take a 3-year cumulative test at the end of their Form C. This means that my job is to get them to pass the test. This proves to be difficult when they are supposed to know what the beach and the ocean are without ever seeing one in their life, or knowing the difference between a graduated pipette and a burette when their lab has zero equipment, or asking to solve a problem with a spaceship when they are still taught that Pluto is a planet. And have I mentioned that their textbook has almost no pictures?

Don’t get me wrong; Lesotho has some very talented people in it. I have friends who have studied in Cuba, China, Zimbabwe, England, and the U.S. Just this weekend I went to the funeral of one of the few professors in Lesotho who was also the Minister of Development. If I just look at the Peace Corps. Lesotho staff there are staff members with Master’s degrees, Ph. D’s, with various experience working with NGOs and working or studying abroad. But this is not my Lesotho. My Lesotho consists of a school where most of the students have probably never left the district, let alone the country. My Lesotho is filled with students who come to school because that’s what the government says and that’s where their friends are (and being served food is a major motivation). My Lesotho is filled with parents that have zero involvement in their student’s educations until they get their grades and start blaming the teachers for their child’s failure. My Lesotho is one where my students have limited access to TV and the little they do see consists of violent movies and music videos from South Africa and the U.S. That’s my Lesotho. It’s a Lesotho where their textbook takes zero consideration to what they have access to and what they know. Many would jump to say “Well, that’s Africa” but it’s not. That’s the world. You can find little third world countries in the U.S. where they’re learning science with out chemicals, learning math with out calculators. This isn’t just a Lesotho or Africa problem, it’s a problem that teacher’s feel across the globe. But it’s only now that I see it.

As many of you know I celebrated my one-year anniversary in Lesotho a few weeks back. With this anniversary came a batch of new volunteers and I was with them, helping with training their very first week here. One of the staff members asked them to brainstorm what they hoped to accomplish here in Lesotho. Many of them talked about improving their school’s science scores, improving the quality of education at their school, etc, etc. And as I listened to this discussion I realized how jaded I’ve become about my time here. I even told one of the volunteers from my training group “I don’t even know why I do what I do here expect that it’s what I do,” and she agreed with me. I came in to this country, in to Peace Corps, determined to be better. I would be the better science teacher; I would be hands on and all of my students would pass science with flying colors. I was going to be better than all my fellow Basotho teachers; and perhaps that’s where my folly began.

I definitely bring something to my school but it is not my superiority. Most of my teachers are graduates from the Lesotho College of Education and after talking to a teacher there I learned that they get very little background education and more teaching education. Meaning that when it comes to knowing Science I have an upper hand. But when it comes to knowing how to teach they beat me hands down. They also know the students considerably better than me. Whenever I have problems with students I ask them about it and they can usually give me some insight in to my problem. And when it comes to getting results, mine are no better than my co-workers.

With my one year anniversary came a depression consisting of questions like “What am I doing here?” or “Am I really making a difference?” and “What’s the point?” When I left the U.S. people told me that I was going to Africa to do “God’s work” and that I was “really going to make a difference” and while numerous RPCVs (returned Peace Corps Volunteers) told me just the opposite, in my head I thought “Maybe I will.” Peace Corps Lesotho has even started trying to quantify the affect education volunteers have in their schools. But can the Peace Corps experience really be quantified? The trainees asked me the same question when I was at training. My answer was that while some of it can, by comparing test scores, most of it can’t. I can’t tell you the number of Basotho who, as soon as I mention that I’m a “moitaopi oa Peace Corps,” faces light up and start telling me about their Peace Corps teacher who taught them English, or Science, or Maths. You can’t quantify that.

And so I’ve learned to grab the little golds when I can. A few weeks back one of my Form A students dropped by my house to spend a little time with me. She’s first in her class and works very hard in all her subjects. She told me, “Madam, because of you I am now good at Science. In Standard 7 (the grade before Form A) I was failing Science; I had 7%. But now I am top in my class.” And that’s what keeps me going.