With These Two Hands

Many of the circumstances of my current life conjure up images of what you might imagine to be a stereotypical Peace Corps volunteer experience. I live in a small tin roofed house in the middle of the jungle, I speak one of the most random languages on the planet, I sleep on the floor and do without amenities or luxuries. However, during the last week I think I outdid all cliché moments of my service. I built a school out of discarded scrap wood so that the poverty stricken children of my village could have a place to learn.

The ramshackle mess of crumbling concrete that we used to call our school has just begun a renovation process. This is wonderful news; except for the fact that it means that we have nowhere to have class for the next year. Faced with this problem, the other teachers and I put our heads together and decided that we had to make something happen. So we gathered some of the intact pieces of the torn down building and hammered them together over the remains of another nearby decrepit shack of a building. By straightening out rusty bent nails and cutting off the rotten ends of wooden beams, we were able to pile together a decent supply of materials to begin our work.

            From early morning until sunset each day, the two other male teachers and I have been working tirelessly under the scorching sun to construct this random conglomeration of wood and tin that will house a hundred students for the next school year. Through a process of knocking down termite ridden walls and decayed roofing to make way for borrowed plywood sheets and chunks of scrap wood, we have put together a place that we are now proud to call a school (temporarily).

            After finishing the construction of the school and setting up my classroom, I sat in my broken plastic chair at the front of the class and took a moment to soak it all up. This was my class. Literally, it was mine. I built it myself and I was finally going to be a fulltime teacher of an entire grade. In my entire teaching career, I have always floated from class to class and assisted with numerous grades. Now I have a desk, a chair, a blackboard, and students that are all mine.

As I gazed at the discolored mishmash of plywood that made up my wall, my mind began to wonder about the possibilities of the final few months in Chuuk. After a disheartening end to last school year and a summer break to relax, the importance of school had drained out of me. I was just looking towards the end and going to coast out for the last couple of months. But as I sat in that newly constructed room of old wood planks I became rejuvenated with a spirit of excitement and enthusiasm for my last moments on the island.

I put together a mental map of all the things I could do as a 7^th grade teacher. A new Peace Corps volunteer is already here to replace me and will be taking over my old responsibilities, which basically allows me to do whatever I want. What I want to do is teach this class of seventh graders in whatever crazy fashion I deem worthy. And that's exactly what I am going to do. I am going to give these kids a few months of education like nothing they have experienced before. This particular group of students holds a special place in my heart (maybe because some of them are my little brothers and sisters) and I am determined to do everything I possibly can to make them excited about school while I still have a chance.

Beyond my duties as a classroom teacher, I have also taken over most of the administrative responsibilities. Our principal is in America having a baby, and I have taken it upon myself to make sure that everything stays on the right track. I have always taken an overly active role in the functioning of our school system, but now I am officially the man. Ive been running staff meetings, organizing schedules and making plans for the year. Our school building is a mess, we have no principal, a new curriculum was just enacted, and we still have all the other problems that have been plaguing us for decades; but I am confident that I will be able to help guide the students and the teachers in a positive direction for the remainder of my service.