I talked with the admistrator of a private English school. I thought that I could help.
It took a full hour of questioning, bargaining, persuading, dramatizing, probing and feigning to get to the core of the matter. In the end, I think it’s something called, “incapacitated by the thought of change.”
He is clear-sighted. He knows how monumental the problems are, but he also has the right to be skeptical of someone so wildly optimistic. We agree that true change is going to have to happen on all levels: curriculum, teachers, students and staff, but our differences are about when we think change should start.
We’re sitting and talking and I look at the stick learning against the wall in the corner. It’s there for knocking off cobwebs, which of course are hanging thick, just inches above. Nobody seems brave enough to be the first to grab the stick. But when a student says, “Oh, so you mean I should just at least TRY?” I take that as the signal to start.
It’s urgent. When a student sits patientently in class, convinced that her confusion is her own fault, I think something’s burning. There’s a fire and it’s hard to watch people just sit and fan themselves.
Then the administrator says that if Laos isn’t ready when the doors fling open to the Chinese and Vietnamese, it’ll be eaten up like little chicken legs. (Well, not phrased exactly that way). “We’ll be colonialized again.” He knows there’s a fire, but admits defeat after trying and not getting results.
“Incapacitated by the thought of change” has a fancy development industry ring to it. When it comes down to it, I think it’s
just about cobwebs that need a good stick. There are many good reasons why people don’t reach for the stick. If I’m the one, what will happen?
