Why am I here?

The other night, I was having a conversation with a French student here in Madagascar. She lived in Moramanga, a city along National Road 7 heading for the East Coast. She’s a student working on her master’s in sociology here, and she hopes to follow it up with her PhD work here as well.

Being an English teacher here, of course I’m always talking about second language education. It appears she volunteered in the same line of work, teaching English and French to primary school students.

We exchanged the usual pleansantries, compared horror stories and finally got down to just how important are our jobs? Being a former French colony, Malagasy students begin learning French as soon as they begin school. Pretty much anything official, from government bills to school documents, comes in French, a system I don’t particularly agree with, but it is what it is.

French has a leg up on English in this country; it is a mandatory requirement for any kind of prominent position in Malagasy society. But what about English? This is the question she posed to me, but not before giving me her answer first. She saw English education in Madagascar, as nice as it may be, to be a waste of time.

When are these kids ever going to use English in their everyday lives? A question not without merit and well worth asking.

There is one English Malagasy periodical to dozens of French ones.

Banks, cell phones companies, department stores, they all handle business in French.

Where does English enter the equation of Malagasy society?

The answer is, nowhere. Prior to his departure in 2009, President Ravelontmanana wanted to bring English deeper into the fold of Malagasy society, but that has been forgotten by the current administration.

English has been regelated once again to the back burner of this country’s educational system, a required subject with no real impeutus to excel at it. So why teach it, and better yet, why learn it?

After five months of teaching English here in Madagascar, I know I’m not going to change the world. Most of my idealistic notions of the Peace Corps have been replaced by those more closely grounded in reality. That’s not to say I’ve gone pessismistic, however.

On the contrary, it’s made me more optimistic than I’ve ever been, and that’s because I know what my role is and what I need to do with my two years here. As an education volunteer, with classes that regularly average more than 50 students, the individual can get lost in all the hub bub.

But the individual student remains the most important part of my job. It’s those individual students, the ones who really shine and take a liking to English, that I have to devote everything. With my 6eme students, I need to show them what can be in store for them if they continue to study English after I’m gone.

They need to know how much more of the world has opened up to them, just because they can speak English. It’s not easy to keep a grasp on English here because so few people speak it, making practice almost impossible. I have to not only convince them to talk to me as often as possible, but to each other as well. After I’m gone, that’s all they’ll have.

This rings especially true with 2nde. They’re entering the home stretch of the primary school education, and the majority of them have figured out what they want to do following lyceé, whether they want to go to university or end their education. I don’t try convincing my students that, if they want to be farmers, they need English. I’m not going to insult them with that kind of lie.

But to those who do want to go to university, I like to cultivate the idea that they may go to America if they keep their grades up and practice their English. Plenty of students travel to France for their studies, but few ever even consider America as an option.

I stress the importance of keeping that in mind. I know it’s a long-shot for these kids. Almost no one here could actually afford to pay for an American education out of pocket, and the scholarships are few and far between. But if they work hard, and want it enough, I let them know that they will get it.

And that right there is why I’m here. To be their cheerleader, the wise janitor, their own Alfred Pennyworth. I’m here to let them know, that no matter what, even when they no longer believe in themselves, I always will. I can’t think of anything else I could do that carries more importance.

Is English necessary here? No, but am I? I like to think yes.