Dèyè mòn gen mòn Haiti has a famous proverb: "Dèyè mòn gen mòn." It means "Beyond the Mountains there are mountains." The mountains represent struggle and difficulty. While this may seem like a pessimistic message when taken literally, Haitians always say it with a smile.
Teaching in Mississippi feels a lot like this proverb. We have no physical mountains to climb, but the journey of teaching in a critical needs school is one that is full of struggle and triumph, followed by more struggle. We learn the hard way that this struggle does not end. It is not something negative to overcome and be done, but something ever-changing that becomes a part of us. |
From Mississippi to Haiti to Mississippi
I have worked in education off and on since 2007. I started out teaching in China, which inspired me to teach ESL as a career. It was not a bad career. I met students and coworkers from around the world, and I enjoyed learning different cultures and helping students meet their language goals. However, about three years ago, my perspective on education began to change.
In 2015, I went on my first trip to Haiti with a group of college students from University of North Alabama, where I was teaching at the time. The purpose of our trip was to stay in a rural village and work with the community to build a classroom for the school and work in the classrooms. To make a long story short, I fell in love with Haiti and especially our village Desab. Over the last three years, I have made seven trips to Desab and have collaborated with organizations to bring improved healthcare and education to the village.
While on these trips, I served as faculty site leader and was occasionally in charge of leading reflection (journaling) activities. One of these activities asked the students to compare the issues in Desab/Haiti with the issues facing Alabama. Each time we did this activity, education came up. We talked in depth about how education was the factor (often the only factor) that made the difference between continuing the cycle of poverty and having a future with the possibility of something better. It was the same for Alabama. We knew this. We had seen it. I had seen it in my home state of Mississippi as well. I knew what a difference education had made in my own family's life.
As part of my work in Haiti, I did research while I was in Desab and interviewed many community members about how education had affected their lives. I was inspired by how much the community supported education and how much emphasis they placed on it. They had a tiny school, about 200 students in pre-K to 7th grade. The reality was that the majority of these students would live in Desab their whole lives, just like their parents and grandparents had, living solely off the land. However, the perspective seemed to be shifting. A few community members had continued their education by starting their own businesses and paying tuition from their profits. A few had gone to places like Canada, the United States and Chile for work or education. The kids in the village were seeing this happen, and each year that I go, I hear another student tell me about their plan to continue their education. The director of the school and I had many discussions going back and forth on the long road from Desab to Port-au-Prince. He was one who had not only gotten out of the village to continue his education, but had returned because he knew the potential his community had, and he wanted to see the future generations of Desab have more opportunity. He gave up a life in the United States to come back and help his community improve their education.
The more I talked to him, the more I reflected on my own experience growing up in Mississippi and seeing the ones who "got out" and found success, often never to return. As a high schooler, all I wanted to do was get out of Mississippi, and I worked very hard to make sure I got into an out-of-state school. My biggest fear was ending up stuck in my hometown, never seeing what else was out there. I went to school ten hours away, and I thought I would never look back. The last few years have been a process of working on education initiatives in a small village in Haiti and figuring out why I couldn't let go of the idea that I was supposed to be doing more at home.
I joined Mississippi Teacher Corps because I know the incredible impact education can have on a person's life. My own education in Mississippi was amazing, and it opened so many doors for me. I think every student in Mississippi deserves the same opportunity, and I wanted to be a part of that. I came from a job that had a comfortable salary, but I always felt like I was missing something. The salary was not worth living outside this purpose that was becoming more and more clear to me every day. In Haiti, I would work sun up to sun down, and then continue conversations about the future of education by flashlight, not because someone was paying me (they definitely were not), but because my passion for education had come to the surface, and I was ready to work.
That is why I am here.
In 2015, I went on my first trip to Haiti with a group of college students from University of North Alabama, where I was teaching at the time. The purpose of our trip was to stay in a rural village and work with the community to build a classroom for the school and work in the classrooms. To make a long story short, I fell in love with Haiti and especially our village Desab. Over the last three years, I have made seven trips to Desab and have collaborated with organizations to bring improved healthcare and education to the village.
While on these trips, I served as faculty site leader and was occasionally in charge of leading reflection (journaling) activities. One of these activities asked the students to compare the issues in Desab/Haiti with the issues facing Alabama. Each time we did this activity, education came up. We talked in depth about how education was the factor (often the only factor) that made the difference between continuing the cycle of poverty and having a future with the possibility of something better. It was the same for Alabama. We knew this. We had seen it. I had seen it in my home state of Mississippi as well. I knew what a difference education had made in my own family's life.
As part of my work in Haiti, I did research while I was in Desab and interviewed many community members about how education had affected their lives. I was inspired by how much the community supported education and how much emphasis they placed on it. They had a tiny school, about 200 students in pre-K to 7th grade. The reality was that the majority of these students would live in Desab their whole lives, just like their parents and grandparents had, living solely off the land. However, the perspective seemed to be shifting. A few community members had continued their education by starting their own businesses and paying tuition from their profits. A few had gone to places like Canada, the United States and Chile for work or education. The kids in the village were seeing this happen, and each year that I go, I hear another student tell me about their plan to continue their education. The director of the school and I had many discussions going back and forth on the long road from Desab to Port-au-Prince. He was one who had not only gotten out of the village to continue his education, but had returned because he knew the potential his community had, and he wanted to see the future generations of Desab have more opportunity. He gave up a life in the United States to come back and help his community improve their education.
The more I talked to him, the more I reflected on my own experience growing up in Mississippi and seeing the ones who "got out" and found success, often never to return. As a high schooler, all I wanted to do was get out of Mississippi, and I worked very hard to make sure I got into an out-of-state school. My biggest fear was ending up stuck in my hometown, never seeing what else was out there. I went to school ten hours away, and I thought I would never look back. The last few years have been a process of working on education initiatives in a small village in Haiti and figuring out why I couldn't let go of the idea that I was supposed to be doing more at home.
I joined Mississippi Teacher Corps because I know the incredible impact education can have on a person's life. My own education in Mississippi was amazing, and it opened so many doors for me. I think every student in Mississippi deserves the same opportunity, and I wanted to be a part of that. I came from a job that had a comfortable salary, but I always felt like I was missing something. The salary was not worth living outside this purpose that was becoming more and more clear to me every day. In Haiti, I would work sun up to sun down, and then continue conversations about the future of education by flashlight, not because someone was paying me (they definitely were not), but because my passion for education had come to the surface, and I was ready to work.
That is why I am here.
In Haiti, I would work sun up to sun down, and then continue conversations about the future of education by flashlight, not because someone was paying me (they definitely were not), but because my passion for education had come to the surface, and I was ready to work.
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