About a time when I forgot why I was here...

It was around 9pm on my second week of teaching English to 8th graders in Mozambique that I called my mom (because who else do you call in a crisis?), sobbing. Tears running down my face I told her "sometimes I just want to go home." I was emotionally drained, frustrated, confused, and disappointed. They say that Peace Corps will hand you your lowest lows and highest highs. This was definitely a very low low.

*PAUSE*

I made a promise to myself that I would make my blog a space of honesty, even if my truth wasn't always sweet and peachy. I want to offer this story from a place of solidarity with my Peace Corps family and with educaters around the world who truly want the best for their students. This isn't a rant or a list of complaints, it's a story about my first real "breakdown" of my Peace Corps service and why I think it was a necessary part of my journey here.

*RESUME*

Earlier that week, someone in my life really, really hurt me. Without going into too much detail about that particular situation, this was what sort of triggered a downward spiral of negative thoughts and feelings that eventually led to the phone call mentioned above. After a wave of sadness and disappointment with this person, I began having second thoughts about this whole Mozambique thing. Because, of course, that's what you totally should do when something completely unrelated to your job completely throws you for a loop. But it all brought up so many questions for me.

How can I go home without having to face my family and explain to them why I couldn't last two years living in Africa?
What would I even do?
Should I just move to a different country altogether and start fresh?
I can't do this teaching thing. I'm not cut out for it.
Is it all even worth it? Am I doing more harm than good here?

All of these thoughts swirled around my head like bloodthirsty mosquitos, ready to suck the life out of this dream of mine. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had made a huge mistake coming here to try to do something worthwhile, something just, something wholehearted.

In the last few weeks of teaching, I have learned a lot about my students. They are bright, eager, hardworking, and actually pretty hilarious. I love learning about them, seeing what their strengths are, and watching the wheels turn in their heads when they start to really get something.

This was supposed to be a notecard with what topics the students wanted to cover this year. I've been trying to decipher it and my best guess is that he wants to learn how to say goat (cabrito) in English? Or he wants to bring his goat to class? Or it could be a big joke on me? I don't know.

That said, I have barely taught ANY English in my classroom since I started. Why? Because in the first class alone, I realized that many of my students are almost completely unprepared to begin learning a new language. Things that I completely took for granted, like writing their names on worksheets, taking notes, studying for tests, and organizing their class materials were tough for my students to grasp. I went in with the assumption that all of these things that I had learned in the third grade would already be well-ingrained into their minds as 8th graders. I think something I have greatly overlooked is the value in learning how to learn. When I asked my students about their opinions on the importance of English, I felt that many of them were looking for an answer, the 'right' answer, perhaps, that would please me. But I just wanted to know their opinion--what they really thought about it. This requires critical thinking skills that I am certain that they possess, but do not yet know how to utilize for their education. 

I do not blame my students, I do not blame their former teachers, and I will not point the finger at the Mozambican education system or government. I refuse to believe that any of this boils down to any one particular cause and I know that I have so much to learn about this country and the way things are done here. It's a complicated, historically rooted, and systematic issue that goes deeper than students being underprepared in the classroom.

My lack of foresight into my student's educational backgroound left me peddling backward and wondering what on earth I am supposed to do as their teacher. How can I test their knowledge to create better-suited materials when my students have never learned how to take a test effectively? What do I do with that? I have a mere 45 minutes with them three times a week and there are 40-50 of them in each of my three classes. And this is so little compared to what some of my peers are juggling in their classrooms.

And then there's the whole "teaching English in a developing nation" thing. I'll be honest. I did NOT want to teach English. There's something about the expectation that the whole world has to learn English to 'get ahead' that absolutely makes my skin crawl. I don't want to spend too much time talking about this in this post, but this greatly contributed to some of my negative feelings about being here. I ask myself all the time if I'm really doing the right thing by teaching English. I spend so much of my mental energy analyzing and re-analyzing if my presence here is helpful or harmful. Am I just another white savior looking to smother the global south with my rightousness? Is that what I'm doing here? Who am I to teach anyone anything? I don't even have a teaching degree!

I know many people will read this and think I'm being too hard on myself. I know it will sound like I'm picking myself apart for no reason because the work I'm doing here must be inherently good, right? Wrong. So, so very wrong. 

But these are important questions that I think we should ALL be asking ourselves--gently, of course, and with great compassion. We need to bring ourselves back to this question of whether we are hurting or helping, exploring or exploiting. It is the very least we can do. The LEAST.

I could say a million things about why Mozambicans don't need my help. I could say even more about how it really is me who has the most to learn.

So how did I get here, to writing this really personal post about my lowest low here in Moz? I arrived here after a lot of tears, a lot of my mom saying "you know I'll support you no matter what you decide to do" (seriously, bless that woman for being my superhero), and a lot of digging deep for gratitude.

I am not here just to teach English. It may be why Peace Corps sent me here, but it was never my sole purpose for getting on that dreadful 15 hour flight to a continent I'd never been to. I remember trying to give myself some wiggle room before coming here by telling myself that if I got to Mozambique, made it through training, arrived at site, met my students and STILL didn't feel like I could be here then I would promptly reevaluate my life, come home, and start over. I didn't want to trap myself into this commitment by making it about 'sticking it out' for two years in a place I didn't feel connected to.

But I do feel connected here. In so, so many ways I feel connected. In all of the sadness and confusion, I forgot why I was here. 

I'm not here to feel good about myself or ease some white guilt. I'm here because of my students and every person in my little town that has opened their heart, their home, or their cooking expertise to me, a foreigner and stranger.

I'm here because I LOVE watching people grow. I want to see my students succeed. I want to see them make mistakes and then get back up and try again. Their willingness to learn gives me purpose and their challenges push me to do better. I want them to see themselves the way I do: as the intelligent, capable, dynamic people they are. I refuse to believe that my students need me to be able to see their worth. But if I want to be a better teacher, I do need them.

I believe in the power of saying our affirmations out loud. What we say, we become. Our words matter. The way we talk to and about ourselves matters. I wanted to embrace this idea by creating a "mantra" for my classes. Before we begin each lesson. we say this together, take a deep breath (my students think this is weird but I don't care), and start.

And that's what brought everything full circle for me--the truth in all the madness that we have to keep building each other up if we want to create a better world. My lowest low has quickly taken a turn that I think is leading me toward a highest high. Sometimes we need those kick-in-the-ass moments to truly reevaluate what is important and what our purpose is.

Right now, my purpose is finding new and creative ways to prepare my students to thrive in their learning environment regardless of the subject. If that means we have to put Past Tense Irregular Verbs on the backburner, I think it'll be alright.




With love,



Emily