Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Entrepreneurs in Dominica Celebrate Global Entrepreneurship Week
Here is a short video on Waitukubuli Entrepreneurs Lévé!'s (WEL) first annual Emerging Entrepreneur & Business Mentor Retreat at Jungle Bay Resort & Spa. WEL is an NGO that supports emerging entrepreneurs in Dominica, which I helped to develop. I also helped to design and coordinate the retreat featured in this video, which was I produced with my friend and fellow Peace Corps Volunteer, Allegra Asplundh-Smith. Hope you enjoy.
A year ago
The following is a lengthly report on my experience writing a grant, securing funding, and the coordinating and implementing a 6-week educational outreach program in Penville. I wrote it some time last year and just found it today.
On a Saturday afternoon, my next door neighbor and the Chairman of the Penville Village Council called me to attend a 3 o’clock meeting with some fella from the nearby town of Portsmouth to talk about some skills training based project opportunity. The fella showed up at around 6:30. During the wait, the Chairman, his cousin/fellow councilor and I chatted about what sort of training programs we might want to see take place in the village. William McLawrence, as the fella was named, walked us through what needed to be done to submit a grant application. The application was 43 pages long. I noticed it in my email at some point and after briefly looking over the first few pages decided there was no way I was going through 41 more, much less try to decipher all that red-tape mumbo jumbo and come out sane on the other end. McLawrence made it really simple. “Just fill out the basic framework for a proposal (following page length requirements), make up a budget off the top of your head, and we’re good! The only trick is, we need it tomorrow!” So after the meeting, around 8pm, I went down to my house and plugged away for a few hours. Drawing on five years of college experience, I easily burned both ends of that proverbial candle and finished the 14 page application by Sunday at noon. I promptly hitched to Portsmouth to meet Mr. McLawrence. Upon meeting him at 2 for our 1 o’clock appointment, he said “Hey! We’re going to Roseau.” On a Sunday? (buses don’t run on Sundays – you should see the capital: ghost town)We got a ride that cost me $40 (Bill had no cash). We visited the home of a Ms. Henry, who reviewed my application, suggested a few small changes. After a harrowing journey back up to Penville at 8:00pm (did I mention it was Sunday?), I submitted the thing that night, After that I never worried about finding a ride again. If you need to get somewhere, you can get there.
The following weeks proceeded in a similar fashion. I was informed that my application was well received and the funds were forth coming. All I had to do was scurry back and forth between Roseau and Penville jumping through hoop after hoop of invoice requirements and other such documentation procurement, all with 24-48 hour deadlines attached. At the contract signing ceremony, it turned out my application received a score of 92 out of a possible 100. Out of 35 other applications, the next highest scored an 84.
The ensuing program was a comprehensive educational program, offering 6-week courses in ICT, financial management, English enhancement, parenting skills, and youth life-skills. I worked together with 27 community members to coordinate and implement the program. This was the most rewarding experience of it all: I built relationships with highly capable community members who had never before been involved in such community outreach. 40 participants attended at least two classes a week, some more than 4, for six weeks. There were several hiccups, not the least of which surrounding national elections. Overall, the program was a huge success, very popular, and built a great deal of enthusiasm among those involved.
A youth group emerged from the youth skills training program. They held a show during carnival in which they performed a number of skits and songs, to the absolute amazement of all who were lucky enough to attend. They have raised over $400 for their group through a number of well-planned fundraising efforts. They have been involved in some community service efforts, participating in the liturgy at the Catholic Church service, to which they donated a portion of the funds they raised. I continue to work with them, holding sessions on self-expression and other topics, and getting them involved in community service efforts, such as an after school reading program at the primary school.
The team of teachers and nurses that planned and coordinated the initial six-week program remains committed to continuing our efforts in adult education, and we have begun to build a relationship with the central government’s department of adult education. Our closing ceremony has received significant airtime on the national news, and enthusiasm remains high.
The implementation of this project involved hours of door-to-door household visits on my part all over the village. Because of the deadlines involved in this project, the initial process of proposal writing did not follow the appropriate procedures of participatory community needs assessment. However, having established connections and communication with the larger community, we are now in a position to proceed in compliance with more sustainability-oriented methods. A successful postmortem evaluation was conducted, participant responses were discussed, and future plans have incorporated these responses.
My own experience and capacity as a community organizer, or animator, is greatly improved. My relationship with my community is stronger than ever and I am now involved in numerous projects that are proceeding at a slower but more appropriate and effective pace. I have restored a measure of the capital of trust that had deteriorated between the Peace Corps and the village of Penville, after two disappointing experiences with Volunteers.
It has become very clear that two years is simply the blink of an eye in the ongoing struggle for development. Human resource development remains a hard sell amidst the predominant “bricks and mortar” conception. However, as the one-year mark approaches, I am in a vastly superior position to fulfill my primary assignment as an institutional developer. I am enthusiastic and optimistic about the remainder of my service.
On a Saturday afternoon, my next door neighbor and the Chairman of the Penville Village Council called me to attend a 3 o’clock meeting with some fella from the nearby town of Portsmouth to talk about some skills training based project opportunity. The fella showed up at around 6:30. During the wait, the Chairman, his cousin/fellow councilor and I chatted about what sort of training programs we might want to see take place in the village. William McLawrence, as the fella was named, walked us through what needed to be done to submit a grant application. The application was 43 pages long. I noticed it in my email at some point and after briefly looking over the first few pages decided there was no way I was going through 41 more, much less try to decipher all that red-tape mumbo jumbo and come out sane on the other end. McLawrence made it really simple. “Just fill out the basic framework for a proposal (following page length requirements), make up a budget off the top of your head, and we’re good! The only trick is, we need it tomorrow!” So after the meeting, around 8pm, I went down to my house and plugged away for a few hours. Drawing on five years of college experience, I easily burned both ends of that proverbial candle and finished the 14 page application by Sunday at noon. I promptly hitched to Portsmouth to meet Mr. McLawrence. Upon meeting him at 2 for our 1 o’clock appointment, he said “Hey! We’re going to Roseau.” On a Sunday? (buses don’t run on Sundays – you should see the capital: ghost town)We got a ride that cost me $40 (Bill had no cash). We visited the home of a Ms. Henry, who reviewed my application, suggested a few small changes. After a harrowing journey back up to Penville at 8:00pm (did I mention it was Sunday?), I submitted the thing that night, After that I never worried about finding a ride again. If you need to get somewhere, you can get there.
The following weeks proceeded in a similar fashion. I was informed that my application was well received and the funds were forth coming. All I had to do was scurry back and forth between Roseau and Penville jumping through hoop after hoop of invoice requirements and other such documentation procurement, all with 24-48 hour deadlines attached. At the contract signing ceremony, it turned out my application received a score of 92 out of a possible 100. Out of 35 other applications, the next highest scored an 84.
The ensuing program was a comprehensive educational program, offering 6-week courses in ICT, financial management, English enhancement, parenting skills, and youth life-skills. I worked together with 27 community members to coordinate and implement the program. This was the most rewarding experience of it all: I built relationships with highly capable community members who had never before been involved in such community outreach. 40 participants attended at least two classes a week, some more than 4, for six weeks. There were several hiccups, not the least of which surrounding national elections. Overall, the program was a huge success, very popular, and built a great deal of enthusiasm among those involved.
A youth group emerged from the youth skills training program. They held a show during carnival in which they performed a number of skits and songs, to the absolute amazement of all who were lucky enough to attend. They have raised over $400 for their group through a number of well-planned fundraising efforts. They have been involved in some community service efforts, participating in the liturgy at the Catholic Church service, to which they donated a portion of the funds they raised. I continue to work with them, holding sessions on self-expression and other topics, and getting them involved in community service efforts, such as an after school reading program at the primary school.
The team of teachers and nurses that planned and coordinated the initial six-week program remains committed to continuing our efforts in adult education, and we have begun to build a relationship with the central government’s department of adult education. Our closing ceremony has received significant airtime on the national news, and enthusiasm remains high.
The implementation of this project involved hours of door-to-door household visits on my part all over the village. Because of the deadlines involved in this project, the initial process of proposal writing did not follow the appropriate procedures of participatory community needs assessment. However, having established connections and communication with the larger community, we are now in a position to proceed in compliance with more sustainability-oriented methods. A successful postmortem evaluation was conducted, participant responses were discussed, and future plans have incorporated these responses.
My own experience and capacity as a community organizer, or animator, is greatly improved. My relationship with my community is stronger than ever and I am now involved in numerous projects that are proceeding at a slower but more appropriate and effective pace. I have restored a measure of the capital of trust that had deteriorated between the Peace Corps and the village of Penville, after two disappointing experiences with Volunteers.
It has become very clear that two years is simply the blink of an eye in the ongoing struggle for development. Human resource development remains a hard sell amidst the predominant “bricks and mortar” conception. However, as the one-year mark approaches, I am in a vastly superior position to fulfill my primary assignment as an institutional developer. I am enthusiastic and optimistic about the remainder of my service.
Friday, December 31, 2010
This is my December
A week or so ago, my neighbor was married. A goat was slaughtered to provide for the festivities. I had previously been fairly squeamish around the slaughtering of goats. I resolved myself to watch this slaughtering that I might test the strength of my conviction that if you eat something, you should be comfortable with killing it. I missed the killing, but watched the skinning for a few minutes. While I was watching, two twin girls, age four or five, relatives of the bridegroom, cautiously edged near the scene. Holding hands and peering around the back of their mother, my fellow onlooker, the bolder of the two tried to make sense of what was happening. "It can cry?" she asked with her finger in her mouth.
"No, baby. It's dead," responded her mother.
"It has blood in it?" she inquired.
"Yes, baby."
"It cannot say 'meh-eh-ehhh' anymore?" she moaned. We all laughed at the adorably astonished girls. I almost died.
The wedding was on Christmas Eve. That night I went to the capital to experience Dominica's custom of lighting firecrackers, reveling, and waving replica firearms in the air. After dinner I road back to Portsmouth on the back of a truck and enjoyed a starry sky. Stuck in Portsmouth for the night, I walked up the mountain to get back to Penville -- somewhere around 4,000 feet.
On Christmas day, I strolled through the village visiting friends, handing out Christmas cards, eating, drinking, and being merry. That night I attended Christmas dinner at Church. The Nativity play was darling.
The night of Boxing Day, I gave into the spirit of celebration, bucked social norms, and danced in public. I have since heard from many sources that I have a new girlfriend, much to my amusement, and to that of the young woman named. The range of personal freedoms enjoyed by Dominicans, often seemingly deeper and wider than is found in the U.S. of A., takes on quite a different and interesting flavor in such situations. You can enjoy a cold beer on the back of a pick-up truck; you can play music at whatever volume you see fit and at any time; you can express yourself emotionally to whatever degree you are inclined and in any setting, and you can take or make a phone call anytime, and anywhere. Dancing or otherwise consorting with the opposite sex, however, is strictly taboo, if not done in an indiscriminately abusive manner. This makes me think of the book I am now reading, the Imperative of Integration by Elizabeth Anderson. Segregation, in this case social segregation of the sexes, leads to stigmatization and marginalization of the less-advantaged group. Of course, I am being extreme, but it makes for more entertaining writing. Enjoy the new year!
"No, baby. It's dead," responded her mother.
"It has blood in it?" she inquired.
"Yes, baby."
"It cannot say 'meh-eh-ehhh' anymore?" she moaned. We all laughed at the adorably astonished girls. I almost died.
The wedding was on Christmas Eve. That night I went to the capital to experience Dominica's custom of lighting firecrackers, reveling, and waving replica firearms in the air. After dinner I road back to Portsmouth on the back of a truck and enjoyed a starry sky. Stuck in Portsmouth for the night, I walked up the mountain to get back to Penville -- somewhere around 4,000 feet.
On Christmas day, I strolled through the village visiting friends, handing out Christmas cards, eating, drinking, and being merry. That night I attended Christmas dinner at Church. The Nativity play was darling.
The night of Boxing Day, I gave into the spirit of celebration, bucked social norms, and danced in public. I have since heard from many sources that I have a new girlfriend, much to my amusement, and to that of the young woman named. The range of personal freedoms enjoyed by Dominicans, often seemingly deeper and wider than is found in the U.S. of A., takes on quite a different and interesting flavor in such situations. You can enjoy a cold beer on the back of a pick-up truck; you can play music at whatever volume you see fit and at any time; you can express yourself emotionally to whatever degree you are inclined and in any setting, and you can take or make a phone call anytime, and anywhere. Dancing or otherwise consorting with the opposite sex, however, is strictly taboo, if not done in an indiscriminately abusive manner. This makes me think of the book I am now reading, the Imperative of Integration by Elizabeth Anderson. Segregation, in this case social segregation of the sexes, leads to stigmatization and marginalization of the less-advantaged group. Of course, I am being extreme, but it makes for more entertaining writing. Enjoy the new year!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Coffee and Milk
I went to buy some coffee from my neighbor, Ma Jane. She picks, cleans, and roasts it. When I stopped by, I saw her chatting with a visitor, Fifi. I tried to sneak up and frighten Fifi, but Ma Jane gave me away. The following dialog pursued.
"Good afternoon! I had make the thing for you, but you don't pass for it," shouts Ma Jane, my bubbly neighbor of ninety-plus years.
"Three times I pass for it, wi," I retort, deflecting the accusation.
"True?"
"Yes, but I didn't meet you there."
"Well, look: Three I have for you."
Fifi, one-eyed peer to Ma Jane and equally eccentric, interjects, "But, Austin, I didn't believe you were drinking coffee."
"How much for three?" I avoid the comment, wary of its roots.
"Eighteen," they respond simultaneously.
"So what change?" ponders Ma Jane after I slip her a twenty.
"De dola ou ni pou moin." Two dollars you have for me, in Creole.
"If I have, I'll give you," Ma Jane teases with a child's mischievous look in her eye.
"Ou pa ni? Pa pou manti!" You don't have? Not to lie! I again parry and jab. Ma Jane and Fifi laugh hysterically as Ma Jane searches for the change. "So what make you believe I wasn't drinking coffee?" I have to hear her explanation, even though I have a good idea what's coming.
"Well I thought it was milk and those things you were drinking," says Fifi. More prodding is required.
"So you don't drink coffee?" I ask her.
"Well, I'm black."
"So I'm white and must be drinking milk but not coffee?"
"Right."
"So what about people who drinking passion fruit juice and those things there, what color are they, yellow?"
"Well, no. I drink those things and I'm not yellow. But my husband doesn't, and he's red." We all laugh a good-natured laugh as I take my leave of the matrons of Carib, Penville.
"Good afternoon! I had make the thing for you, but you don't pass for it," shouts Ma Jane, my bubbly neighbor of ninety-plus years.
"Three times I pass for it, wi," I retort, deflecting the accusation.
"True?"
"Yes, but I didn't meet you there."
"Well, look: Three I have for you."
Fifi, one-eyed peer to Ma Jane and equally eccentric, interjects, "But, Austin, I didn't believe you were drinking coffee."
"How much for three?" I avoid the comment, wary of its roots.
"Eighteen," they respond simultaneously.
"So what change?" ponders Ma Jane after I slip her a twenty.
"De dola ou ni pou moin." Two dollars you have for me, in Creole.
"If I have, I'll give you," Ma Jane teases with a child's mischievous look in her eye.
"Ou pa ni? Pa pou manti!" You don't have? Not to lie! I again parry and jab. Ma Jane and Fifi laugh hysterically as Ma Jane searches for the change. "So what make you believe I wasn't drinking coffee?" I have to hear her explanation, even though I have a good idea what's coming.
"Well I thought it was milk and those things you were drinking," says Fifi. More prodding is required.
"So you don't drink coffee?" I ask her.
"Well, I'm black."
"So I'm white and must be drinking milk but not coffee?"
"Right."
"So what about people who drinking passion fruit juice and those things there, what color are they, yellow?"
"Well, no. I drink those things and I'm not yellow. But my husband doesn't, and he's red." We all laugh a good-natured laugh as I take my leave of the matrons of Carib, Penville.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Seeing the Forest
When I arrived in Penville, a small agricultural village in the Eastern Caribbean, I was assigned to the Village Council to work in institutional development. The Council's office and computer center occupy the first floor in a two story complex. The second floor houses an arts & craft center. It quickly became apparent that the craft center was extremely under utilized. In a community without many resources, this is an obvious problem. When I inquired further I discovered that the use of the craft center was a point of considerable friction between the Village Council and a community based organization that had been behind the construction of the facility. I was advised to stay out of that particular issue. New to the Village, I was hesitant to get branded a partisan or to become entangled in community conflict. Being me, I couldn't help myself. Little by little I started to make noise. After I had been around for about nine months, I received EC$35,000 to run an educational outreach program. Part of this involved a youth oriented "life-skills" component. The problem was that simultaneously, we were running adult literacy and family health classes, and IT classes. There was no venue for the life-skills sessions. So I started using the Council's key to access the craft center. I failed to seek permission from the CBO and this negligence got me in some hot water, unnecessarily I admit.
The youth sessions went forward and from these sessions emerged an energetic and entrepreneurial youth group. They called themselves the Young Motivators. I have worked closely with the group and have provided encouragement wherever possible. We don't always perceive the impact our actions have on the lives of others. It was extremely rewarding to be thanked by my good friend and leader of the Young Motivators during his secondary school graduation speech. This young man has always been an enthusiastic self-starter and a born leader, and I have watched him mature from a pseudo-troublemaker into a thoroughly positive role model and an active member of his community.
October is independence season in Dominica when heritage is celebrated with a number of competitions in different areas including cultural dance. Penville's children have been dancing for the neighboring village's team for some time. However, this year, with funds from the same grant that had funded those youth sessions a year ago, the Council sponsored Penville's own dance team. Most of the team members were also members of the Young Motivators group. Over that same year, I had continued to make noise about the craft center, and eventually it was opened up for community use. The dance team practiced there and competed in the semi-finals in front of a large crowd.
Somehow, I hadn't seen my role in all this, though looking back it is quite clear. In a large part due to my influence, an under utilized community resource was made available; a group of youth was empowered through life-skills sessions I funded and organized; those same young persons used that resource to participate in a wonderful experience; and that experience was made possible by funds from that same grant I had secured a year ago. I thank the District Development Officer for having helped me to see the forest through the trees.
The youth sessions went forward and from these sessions emerged an energetic and entrepreneurial youth group. They called themselves the Young Motivators. I have worked closely with the group and have provided encouragement wherever possible. We don't always perceive the impact our actions have on the lives of others. It was extremely rewarding to be thanked by my good friend and leader of the Young Motivators during his secondary school graduation speech. This young man has always been an enthusiastic self-starter and a born leader, and I have watched him mature from a pseudo-troublemaker into a thoroughly positive role model and an active member of his community.
October is independence season in Dominica when heritage is celebrated with a number of competitions in different areas including cultural dance. Penville's children have been dancing for the neighboring village's team for some time. However, this year, with funds from the same grant that had funded those youth sessions a year ago, the Council sponsored Penville's own dance team. Most of the team members were also members of the Young Motivators group. Over that same year, I had continued to make noise about the craft center, and eventually it was opened up for community use. The dance team practiced there and competed in the semi-finals in front of a large crowd.
Somehow, I hadn't seen my role in all this, though looking back it is quite clear. In a large part due to my influence, an under utilized community resource was made available; a group of youth was empowered through life-skills sessions I funded and organized; those same young persons used that resource to participate in a wonderful experience; and that experience was made possible by funds from that same grant I had secured a year ago. I thank the District Development Officer for having helped me to see the forest through the trees.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Inspiration
Today I set out to distribute some consent forms and talk some parents into sending their sixth grade children to 3 weeks of Summer School, 3 days a week. The deal is that under-prepared children have flooded Dominica's Secondary Schools since the imposition of universal secondary education. This has resulted in a frustrated student body, increased violence, and the decay of the overall academic culture of the nation's secondary level institutions. The first child's grandmother told me that the family works during the vacation, and that her grandson is unlikely to learn anything at the summer school.
I was upset by this. My reaction was a compilation of frustration with her stubbornness, despair that she was probably right (the child is twelve years old and cannot read or write), and some personal embarrassment emanating from her lack of trust in my ability to assist the child, compounded by my own doubts in the same. The next parent I talked to was enthusiastic and appreciative. Her son is somewhat better off as far as academic achievement goes. I was still feeling a bit down despite the positive response from this parent.
I dropped in on a family that lives just down the road from the Village Council's Office. The mother of the family was washing dishes and clothes with the help of her daughter and a girl who has been staying with her, a niece or maybe just her daughter's friend. Her eldest son and his friend were sitting in the living room playing their respective guitars. Her two younger sons were outside on the road, investigating crabs they had just caught.
The guitar playing son has recently moved out of the home, renting a small house for him and his guitar partner. I purchased a set of strings for the kid after I found him in his unfurnished 'apartment,' laying on the floor strumming a guitar with four strings. I've seen him carrying the guitar around since then. The scene of him and his buddy strumming out church songs together cheered me up. When I saw two certificates were on the wall that the mother had received from some adult education programs I had organized, I had the inspiration I needed go track down the rest of the parents for the Summer School.
I was upset by this. My reaction was a compilation of frustration with her stubbornness, despair that she was probably right (the child is twelve years old and cannot read or write), and some personal embarrassment emanating from her lack of trust in my ability to assist the child, compounded by my own doubts in the same. The next parent I talked to was enthusiastic and appreciative. Her son is somewhat better off as far as academic achievement goes. I was still feeling a bit down despite the positive response from this parent.
I dropped in on a family that lives just down the road from the Village Council's Office. The mother of the family was washing dishes and clothes with the help of her daughter and a girl who has been staying with her, a niece or maybe just her daughter's friend. Her eldest son and his friend were sitting in the living room playing their respective guitars. Her two younger sons were outside on the road, investigating crabs they had just caught.
The guitar playing son has recently moved out of the home, renting a small house for him and his guitar partner. I purchased a set of strings for the kid after I found him in his unfurnished 'apartment,' laying on the floor strumming a guitar with four strings. I've seen him carrying the guitar around since then. The scene of him and his buddy strumming out church songs together cheered me up. When I saw two certificates were on the wall that the mother had received from some adult education programs I had organized, I had the inspiration I needed go track down the rest of the parents for the Summer School.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Education
My mind works in a way that seems to trend away from the nitty-gritty. For an example pertinent to the subject of this post, consider contrasting methods of teaching reading comprehension. I would instantly get bogged down in assessing comparative merit on grounds of efficacy. Failing the availability of hard numbers demonstrating the superiority of either method, I would presume variance in learning propensities would call for the implementation of both methods.
My justification would cue the keen observer to my preference for a less efficient but more egalitarian distribution of resources. One method may be better suited for students with innate reading abilities, more likely to benefit from strengthening such abilities and with greater overall prospects for future success. The other method may be better suited to students who experience more difficulty in processing language. Visual learners may be better suited to develop comprehension skills by direct exposure to text, while oratory learners may benefit from listening to stories read aloud. In a community populated by a high proportion of illiterate parents, visual learners with access to books will succeed at a higher rate than oratory learners.
Who do we target? There are a number of considerations. Instead of digressing further into considerations as to the likelihood of children with illiterate parents to learn to read at all, or the cost of making books available to those children while literate families are more likely to be able to afford books on their own, I would sooner abstract to policy level considerations regarding the trade-offs between increasing the availability of books to students and a campaign targeting adult literacy. Evaluating myself as a resource, I would quickly conclude that I was better suited to aiding policy decisions of this sort than making the in-classroom decisions regarding proportional implementation of various teaching methods (where the reality is more biting: Teach this girl here, today, as best you can).
I don't see the student in front of me. I see the hundreds of students like her, and calculate teaching decisions based on the hypothetical policy level implementation of that decision: What decision would best benefit those hundreds of students? I ask myself this question before assessing the individual needs of the child standing in front of me. This is what I mean when I say my brain trends away from the nitty-gritty. Perhaps I don't want to be responsible for the consequences the decision will have on Patricia. I am more comfortable with the impact of a decision on the students of St. Andrew's Parish as a whole. Some will benefit more than others, and I want to augment aggregate benefit. I am almost irritated by case-by-case assessment. However, I am not in the position to be making such decisions. Wherever my talents actually lay, I am in the field, for better or worse, and I have to deal with Patricia.
My justification would cue the keen observer to my preference for a less efficient but more egalitarian distribution of resources. One method may be better suited for students with innate reading abilities, more likely to benefit from strengthening such abilities and with greater overall prospects for future success. The other method may be better suited to students who experience more difficulty in processing language. Visual learners may be better suited to develop comprehension skills by direct exposure to text, while oratory learners may benefit from listening to stories read aloud. In a community populated by a high proportion of illiterate parents, visual learners with access to books will succeed at a higher rate than oratory learners.
Who do we target? There are a number of considerations. Instead of digressing further into considerations as to the likelihood of children with illiterate parents to learn to read at all, or the cost of making books available to those children while literate families are more likely to be able to afford books on their own, I would sooner abstract to policy level considerations regarding the trade-offs between increasing the availability of books to students and a campaign targeting adult literacy. Evaluating myself as a resource, I would quickly conclude that I was better suited to aiding policy decisions of this sort than making the in-classroom decisions regarding proportional implementation of various teaching methods (where the reality is more biting: Teach this girl here, today, as best you can).
I don't see the student in front of me. I see the hundreds of students like her, and calculate teaching decisions based on the hypothetical policy level implementation of that decision: What decision would best benefit those hundreds of students? I ask myself this question before assessing the individual needs of the child standing in front of me. This is what I mean when I say my brain trends away from the nitty-gritty. Perhaps I don't want to be responsible for the consequences the decision will have on Patricia. I am more comfortable with the impact of a decision on the students of St. Andrew's Parish as a whole. Some will benefit more than others, and I want to augment aggregate benefit. I am almost irritated by case-by-case assessment. However, I am not in the position to be making such decisions. Wherever my talents actually lay, I am in the field, for better or worse, and I have to deal with Patricia.
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