Early End

            This entire school year has been wacky!  We started just fine, but then schools were closed for a week in November due to manifestations.  I missed that round of school closings because I happened to be in the States helping my parents recover from surgery and helping them to move.  For a variety of reasons, I ended up staying Stateside until after the new year.  That was two months away from the Center that I hadn’t planned on.

            I returned in January and was here for about two weeks before flying back home to attend the funeral of a dear friend who had died unexpectedly.  Another week away from the Center.   I returned to Haiti on February 1, and on the 7^th MASSIVE violence broke out in the country, and I returned to the States on February 14 and stayed until late March.  By this time I had spent more of the school year in the States than in Haiti.

            The spring months went well until the June 9 when another round of violence erupted and closed schools for another week.  We re-opened on June 17, and only 30 students showed up because parents were still concerned about the safety of the streets (and I don’t blame them!).  As an administration we decided to end school that day.   No big, formal, sit-down discussion.  We just decided that it was in the best interests of the kids to be done.

            Even though the school year ended early, kindergarten graduation has been postponed a week!  Why, you ask?

Ironic: we ended early, but finish late.  Figure that one out!

            Well, during the week of violence, the seamstress responsible for making the graduates’ dresses, slacks, and shirts couldn’t work because the streets weren’t safe.  Couldn't leave the house to get to work to make the clothes.  No new clothes means no graduation.  We also couldn’t get pictures of the kids in their gowns and caps, so we weren’t ready for graduation.  Even if we had had the pictures, we wouldn’t have been able to print their certificates—most folks don’t have computers, printers, electricity, etc., so none of these things could be done at home.

            I’ll be honest . . . kindergarten graduation doesn’t mean a lot to me.  I don’t think pre-school and kindergarten graduations should be done in the States, and I really don’t get the BIG deal it is here in Haiti.  But, it’s an important cultural piece of Haiti.  So, regardless of what I think, it needs to be done the Haitian way.  The “Haitian way” means a number of things: fancy new clothes, dances, musical pieces being played, lots of food and drink, numerous outfits and costume changes, recitations, presents, speeches, and a passing of the torch from the graduates to the 4-year-olds.  Family, friends, and the entire school attend.

            This year’s graduates, though, won’t get all that.  Because the leaders of this country can’t figure things out, this year’s graduates won’t have the same experience as their older siblings.  They will have a scaled down version--maybe one song/dance, snacks instead of full meal, only parents in the audience instead of a crowd.  I feel sad for them that they won’t have the same special memories of such a major cultural event.  

            Last year at the end of the school year I was so excited.  I was like, “Yes!  Year one is in the bag!  We did it. We succeeded.  We can do this!”

            This year I’m like, “Uh, we’re done. Thank God we made it to the end.”  We limped across the finish line instead of finishing strong with hands raised in the air. 

            It’s as if this year needs a footnote:

            2019-2020¹

            ¹Extenuating circumstances in the country affected the quality of experience for students, 

   staff, and parents.

Violence . . . Again.

         In case you haven’t heard, Haiti has erupted in violence and political protests again.  The planned demonstrations began on Sunday, June 9, and have continued through today (June 12).  Rumors are that they will end today, but one never knows.  The opposition says that it won’t stop until President Jovenal Moïse steps down.  He hasn’t done that so far, so I’m not sure what will cause him to do so now.  

            I have spent these days up on the roof of the orphanage, mostly reading but also playing Candy Crush Saga, communicating with folks via email and Facebook, and watching the kids play school (I did get in on one rousing game of Hopscotch!).  I hear gunshots occasionally, some closer than others, but I am totally safe here in the Notre Maison compound.  This morning I can hear the shouts of the protestors off in the distance. I’m far enough off the main roads that the violence doesn’t reach us, but it’s unnerving even to hear it.  For the past few days there has been no public transportation on the roads (no taptaps and no moto taxis), but I’ve heard that personal vehicles are out.  

            We haven’t had school this week, and I’m not sure whether we will tomorrow.  This is the third time this academic year that schools have been closed due to the public unrest.  Kids missed days in November, in February, and again now. The disruptions have been evident in students’ performance and behavior.  Our students performed poorly on their 3^rdquarter exams, but they had missed two weeks of school!  And, even though they’re kids, they know something’s up.  They may not understand the details, but they understand that Mom and Dad are worried.  They understand that money is tight because parents can’t work.  They understand that food is scarce.  They understand that their routines have been turned topsy turvy.  This round of protests is taking place during exams, so who knows what the impact will be!  

            Even in the midst of the ugliness of what is happening right now, cool things are taking place at the Haiti Center for Inclusive Education (HCIE).  We had a mom come in last week with her son who has some deformities with his arms.  In every other way he is a typically-developing four-year-old boy, but schools won’t take him because his arms and hands look different.  Burns me up when that happens!  But, God has placed us here so that we can educate him in a safe place and so that we can educate others that this child, and others like him, are just regular people.

            Through the generosity of others, some of our staff will be able to attend teacher in-service training over the summer with InnovEd, an organization housed at Quisqueya University in Port-au-Prince that works to provide top-notch teacher development for Haitian educators.  Two of our staff members and our Curriculum and Instruction principal (Mme. Suze) will be heading to Cap-Haitian at the end of this month to train other educators in ways to meet the needs of special-needs students and students with learning disabilities.  And, HCIE has been chosen as a training location by the Fondazione L’Albera della Vita, an Italian organization that has offices around the world.  It has many projects, one of which focuses on meeting the educational needs of schools; that includes training needs as well as material needs.  Not only will our staff be trained, but we will be able to collaborate with others in the field and develop professional relationships.  

            Now, lest you think all is hunky dory for us, we still have the regular, mundane, day-to-day issues to deal with: a water tank that keeps leaking, toilets that won’t flush, missing toys, a messy chicken coop, etc.  So, all in all, typical Haiti with all the good, the bad, and the ugly, and lots of ups and downs.

            I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.