Portland Observer, November 30, 1963 Page 5
Oregon eacher joins Nicairaguan education drive
by Millie Thayer
I Ed
note:
Millie Theyer
teechea Spanish at Grant High
School In Portland. She recently
returned from a month in Nica
ragua.)
SAN MAH TINO. N IC A RA CU A
—(a fictitious name, used to protect
the safety o f the article‘s subjects/—
It’s a long way from this muddy vil
lage in the mountains of Nicaragua
to the cozy Southeast Portland bun
galow where Sheryl lived until four
years ago. Now her day begins at
5:30 when she is awakened by roos
ters and light coming through the
large cracks between planks in the
storeroom where she sleeps. Break
fast is coffee and corn cereal made
over a kerosene stove. A cistern out
side provides water for washing up.
Sheryl's present job bears only
slight resemblance to her former po
sition in Canby High School’s Title
I reading and math program teach
ing teenagers with learning prob
lems. Now she works with semi-lit
erate peasants in Nicaragua's Adult
Education program.
By 7:30 on a typical day, Sheryl's
Nicaraguan
co-workers
have
tumbled into the office and the air is
full of jokes tossed back and forth.
She keeps up with the rest, frequent
ly sending them into fits of laughter
with her straight-faced humor. They
are mostly young people in their
early twenties, playful and spirited,
but with a deep seriousness.
Their ‘office’ is actually a brick
and wood shack with a tin roof,
four rooms, a dirt floor and no win
dows. Some rough wooden tables
serve as desks and a few ancient
typewriters lie scattered about. A
handmade poster declares: "Every
man upon coming to the earth has a
right to be educated and afterward
to contribute to the education of
others.” A pistol sits on a table for
ready use, a reminder of the recent
attacks by counterrevolutionaries
on villages in the area.
Why did Sheryl give up her com
fortable existence to plunge into
such an unfamiliar, difficult and
dangerous situation? Frustration
and a desire to feel that her efforts
made a difference were at the root
of her move.
Back in Portland, Sheryl had
worked with educational misfits in a
series of programs which never
seemed able to meet their needs. She
became concerned with the larger
social problems—dead-end jobs,
fragmented
communities—which
she saw as the source of her stu
dents’ difficulties. Impatient with
inadequate efforts to confront these
problems, she sought a society
where she could make a contribu
tion to bettering people’s lives in a
concrete way. In Nicaragua, she felt
that the social and economic
changes being made and the new
government’s commitment to edu
cation would make this possible.
Sheryl came to Nicaragua in Au
gust of 1979, six weeks after the
overthrow of Anastasio Somoza,
the U.S.-backed former dictator.
On a recent trip I visited her village
in the coffee-growing region.
Sheryl has a wry sense o f humor,
an infectious chuckle and a tenden
cy to mutter thoughts aloud. Being
in the spotlight horrifies her, and it
was only with great difficulty and
large quantities of imported choco
late that 1 convinced her to give me
an interview.
Over her ironing one day she de
scribed the mood in Nicaragua after
Somoza's defeat.
“ You crossed the border and
there was this incredible air of eu
phoria. It was like a fiesta all over
the country.”
In the first seven months, she tra
velled, picked coffee, gave classes to
the children of workers on an ha
cienda and taught women in a poor
barrio to read and write. In March
of 1980 she joined the Literacy Cru
sade. a nationwide campaign aimed
at eradicating the 50 percent illiter
acy rate.
“ When people are illiterate, they
feel powerless. The Sandinistas are
trying to build a society based on
mass participation, s o ...th e y have
to
overcome
this
sense
of
impotence. Teaching people to read
was a way to reach out to everyone
in the country and make a real im
pact on their lives.”
Sheryl became a supervisor of the
high school-aged teachers who had
volunteered to work in the cam
paign.
"I had twenty young ‘brigadistas’
under my control at one point ....* *
Sheryl paused and smiled ruefully.
"N o, I won’t say that. They had me
A Nicaraguan peasant child waits outside while her father attends
an adult education class.
(Photo: Millie Thayer)
surrounding rural areas. This is
where I found her.
It's pouring rain as we set o ff on
foot to visit classes and consult with
the peasant coordinators in Sheryl's
zone. A landscape of gentle green
mountains blurs and the dirt turns to
mud beneath our feet. Lack of ve
hicles makes walking a necessity.
Luckily we are soon picked up by a
truck heading north carrying sacks
of grain and several other people
carrying a woman and baby.
At a junction we hop off and start
walking again. Our path winds
through haciendas; shiny-leaved
coffee plants stretch off on cither
side under tall trees. Once we have
totlam ber off the road to let a herd
o f cattle pass; later two men on
horseback ride by looking for them.
We first stop amongst the white
wooden shacks o f state hacienda
workers where the coordinator is
having some problems getting his
class organized. Sheryl says the
problems in her zone range from
poor attendance because of long
working hours to "so and so says
Yet, they succeeded. Sheryl
his wife can't come to class because
proudly showed ine the banner her
the coordinator is flirting with her.”
region was awarded: “ Territory
Sheryl often must go house to house
Victorious Over Illiteracy." Nation
talking with students to find out
ally the campaign raised the percent
why they are not attending. In this
age of the population able to read
case the problem is more simple—a
and write from 50 percent to 87 per
shortage of materials—and easily
cent in only five months. Peasants
solved.
developed a new ability to under
All these interactions begin with
stand and affect their social envir
an exchange of greetings and some
onment. City kids learned about the
conversation about the coordina
lives of most of their country’s peo
tor’s family, what's new in the com
ple. What they saw deepened their
munity and the latest rumors of con
commitment to making changes in
tra activity. It's considered rude to
Nicaragua that helped everyone.
get right to the point. I marvel at
"It was an extraordinary event.
how comfortable Sheryl seems. In
Being part of a literacy crusade has
Portland she never much enjoyed
all the wonder of a mass movement,
social situations. Here she relates
all the excitement of a war, but none
easily with people, remembers all of
of the blood, none of the sadness. I
their many family members, their
feel very lucky to have been part ot
ailments and accomplishments.
it.” (Sheryl has written a book
The problem settled, it’s time to
about her experiences during this
move on so that I can see one of the
time, A n d Also Teach Them to
classes. Someone has warned us not
Read, which is being published by
to continue farther into Sheryl’s
Lawrence Hill.)
zone because it is getting late. There
After the crusade, the brigadistas
have been contra attacks recently
went back home to high school. But
and the area is patrolled by local mi
basic literacy was seen by the San-
litias at night. Unidentified travelers
dinisla government as only a first
run a risk of being mistaken for the
step. The problem became how to
enemy and fired upon. We decide to
continue the process of adult educa
turn back and visit a class being
tion and where to find the teachers.
taught in another zone.
The solution: those who knew a lit
Rickety steps lead up to the door
tle would teach those who knew less.
of a one-room schoolhouse on stilts.
When the brigadistas left they se
Inside, the light is dim. coming only
lected their most advanced student
from a few window openings. At the
or a person in the community with
far end of the room are five or six
interest and education to become
rows of wooden benches, each with
the new teacher. These ’coordin
a shelf on the back for the row be
ators,’ as they were called, would
hind to write on.
take on the classes of adults and
At the blackboard stands a young
help them progress through the dif
man of perhaps eighteen with long
ferent levels of primary education.
ish hair, a cap, jeans, and a purple
Meanwhile the teachers would con
T-shirt. He has eleven students—
tinue to receive training
eight adults, three children—sitting
After a year's stint teaching En
with books open in front of them.
glish in a high school, Sheryl once
They have come to class after a long
again began her work with adults in
day at work and are still in their
the summer of 1982. She became an
muddy work boots and stained
Adult Education technician in a vil
clothes. The students glance timidly
lage, helping to supervise and assist
at us as we sit in back The teacher
the work of the coordinators in the
under their control.”
Her official title, "Technical Ad-
vidor,” implied observing classes,
giving advice and running work
shops. But, in her words, she be
came "everything from mama to
nurse to teacher to disciplinarian.”
Problems? Materials didn’t ar
rive; there weren't enough brigadis
tas; they would get sick or want to
go home; many o f the campesino
students lived in remote areas inac
cessible during the rainy season.
Worst of all, there were deaths in
some regions as counterrevolution
aries—"contras"—singled out liter
acy teachers as targets.
“Teaching people
to read makes a real
impact on their
lives. "
has them read syllables from the
blackboard, helps them individually
as they practice writing and gives a
dictation on the national literacy
crusade.
These work-worn men hunched
over desks made for children, their
earnest faces as they clutch pencils
and struggle to write, their young
teacher's gentle efforts to help
them: the scene has me close to
tears. Here, in this remote corner of
Nicaragua, I begin to see some of
the reasons why this revolution is so
important to its people, why so
many have been willing to give
their lives for the opportunities it
has opened.
Afterwards. Sheryl's coworker
evaluates the class with the coordin
ator, encouraging and suggesting
improvements: "Your dictation was
good, but try to start some discus
sion among the students about the
photographs in each lesson. Get
them talking about their exper
iences. Reading and writing need to
be tied to real life, not just come out
of books.”
Ordinarily, Sheryl’s trips into her
zone last two or three days with up
to six hours o f walking each day.
The teachers willingly offer her food
and lodging in return for her atten
tion and support. But today we re
trace our steps to the village so that I
can catch a truck back to the city.
On the way home, Sheryl talks
about the coordinators with whom
she works. Each receives about
seven dollars a month. They are es
sentially volunteers who do their
regular work in the fields, then lead
evening classes and attend work
shops on weekends.
" Il’s a work of great love done by
people who are in the true sense of
the word revolutionaries, who want
a better life for themselves and their
children, who want to help their
neighbors. They are people who
love to study and will share the little
they’ve somehow managed to learn
with someone else."
For this dedication the coordina
tors of popular education have be
come targets of counterrevolution
aries, many of them ex-National
Guardsmen who cross into Nicargua
from Honduras and Costa Rica. At
last count 44 adult education teach
ers had been assassinated by the
contras. Over fifty have been kid
napped and forced to help carry
supplies. Others die because, as
community leaders, they are also the
first to join local militia units.
Recently, while Sheryl was at
tending a village celebration of the
anniversary of the literacy cam
paign, a truck drove up with a
coffin in the back. Everyone crowd
ed around as villagers unloaded it
onto the ground. When opened, the
coffin revealed the body of Don Ro
sario, a peasant teacher who died
fighting a band of contras. He had
enlisted in the militia only a few
weeks before.
I asked Sheryl why teachers are
singled out for attack.
"The big landowners who back
the contras are use to running the
show. But education increases peo
ple's ability to be critical and gives
them confidence to stand up for
themselves. The work the teachers
do builds support for the revolu
tion. All this obviously threatens the
upper classes."
Many of Sheryl’s colleagues carry
arms for self-defense as they walk
through their rural zones. Sheryl
doesn't, but she knows the danger
and has faced the fact that she could
be killed for her commitment.
Looking back on her life in Port
land, what differences does Sheryl
see?
"In Canby, the kids I worked
with didn't care about school. And
why should they? For them, with or
without a high school diploma, life
looked pretty bleak—crummy jobs
or going into the army. They saw no
hope for themselves or for the fu
ture.
"Now I work with people who
have this incredible desire to learn,
who are teaching and trying to ad
vance themselves. Adult education
in Nicaragua is taught by and for
people who have hope for the first
time."
Sheryl plans to stay in Nicaragua,
much as she misses good friends and
chocolate. What keeps her working
under difficult conditions besides
the motivation of her student-teach
ers?
"In (he Slates the feeling you gel
is that you're a useless lump on soci
ety and you're lucky if you're
allowed to do a job so that you can
take home a paycheck.
"I think the most important thing
that people have in Nicaragua that
people don't have in the United
States is a sense that your work is
good and important, that
are
good and important. People can see
that they’re hepling to create a new
and better society. And that’s what
keeps me here. For that, I could sur
vive for a long time on beans and
rice."
Poatcript:
Attacks by the U.S.-supplied and
trained contras have intensified in
recent weeks. Following is an ex
cerpt from a letter Sheryl wrote to a
friend, describing an attack on the
town of Pantasma on (Xtober 18th.
" , . And now we get the news of
32 massacred in Pantasma, a town
just across a few dozen mountains.
(Later reports said 47 were killed.|
They burned everything in it, T.,
and the education office with people
in it, the cooperative. I am seeing
the faces of these dead people now
and trying to get news of a beautiful
Gautemalan exile who works with
adult education there. The names
haven’t come out yet. Now the
lights arc off in town again five
nights in six and no gas for the lan
terns. Bought up the last six cardies
yesterday. And we do have a full
moon. I am shaken a bit by these
things, T., and so I pick up this let
ter again at I p m in the bright sun.
Yes. they died, all of them, and 300
contras burned the town. It makes it
hard to sit and do what we are sup
posed to do. . and the dead
we
spent the last workshop playing
around together
beautiful black
eyes and the rest who I know from
the same but can’t remember as
clearly. . . Things arc about to gel
real ugly here. T. The (and here I
have no word bad enough) who run
the country you live in I think have
decided to send everything to
stomp this little anthill and who
knows what they'll do when they
can’t."