Lessons in Paradox and Complexity: Educator Development in Cuba
by Jennifer D. Klein, January 2017
A vibrant and paradoxical place, Cuba has always fascinated me. From my very first research trip in 2000, I saw the country through the lens of education. My research provided an excuse to talk to teachers across the island, people who ranged from their 20s to their 80s and who welcomed me into their homes to talk about their lives and experiences. I returned many times, running countless interviews and writing articles, blogs, and (if only in my head) a whole book on Cuban education. From that very first trip, I wanted to bring North American teachers to Cuba, to explore the successes and challenges of one of the most unusual and misunderstood educational systems in the world.
In July 2016, World Leadership School sent our first Educator Development travel program to Cuba, and WLS instructor Susan Lambert and I led the group in an exploration of Cuban society, culture, and education which was as challenging as it was illuminating. As one participant pointed out, “Cuba has an educated and energetic population that is all dressed up with nowhere to go,” and that’s not easy to see. Life under dictatorship also means that people self-censor, and many of our debriefs began with unpacking what hadn’t been said by the people we met. We explored project-based and global learning concepts, developing specific project ideas as we reflected on how global experiences impact our own world views and educational practices. While we had more experiences than I can possibly chronicle, I hope to capture a few of my favorite moments, highlights that convince me Cuba is a place filled with opportunities to grow the thinking of educators, a place that can help them understand and teach perspectives, paradox, and complexity in authentic ways.
Laura Alonzo’s School of Ballet
Within moments of entering her office at the Escuela Pro Danza, we knew we were in for a treat; Laura Alonzo greeted us with a joke about the difference between a ballet teacher and a terrorist (“you can negotiate with a terrorist”), and her brutal honesty about the Cuban system had half my group glancing over their shoulders at me, wondering when the room would be stormed. Using a great deal of creativity to raise funds and equip her dancers, Laura is a force to be reckoned with — and her principal dancers treated us to a rehearsal none of us will soon forget. Ballet is a racially and economically diverse field in Cuba, as Misty Copeland noted after her recent trip, and we saw extraordinary levels of talent from young people of all ages and racial backgrounds. This is one thing we noted consistently during our travels; the relative racial equality in Cuba, though imperfect, still provides a model for what a racially-equal society could look like. And nowhere is this more evident than in Laura Alonzo’s ballet school.
Connecting with Youth Voice
Participants had the opportunity to talk with two young people who offered insights into Cuban thought and youth culture. The first, Berenice Aguirre, is a former student of mine from St. Mary’s Academy in Denver who spent a semester studying photography in Cuba through New York University. She spoke briefly with teachers about the visual and musical artists she’s interviewed and connected with over the course of several trips to Cuba. Many of them have been jailed for their artistic manifestations, and Berenice has had opportunities to learn directly from “dissident” artists, including the controversial El Sexto and Escuadron Patriota. Although the rain hurt our plans for a deeper conversation, Berenice gave participants a quick glimpse into the perspectives of many Cuban youth, born into a system they didn’t choose.
Participants also had the chance to speak briefly with the daughter of a friend who is studying law at the University of Havana. She was clearly nervous about speaking with North American teachers, glancing anxiously at waiters and shaking her head emphatically when she wasn’t willing to answer a specific question. Participants noticed the difference between Berenice’s confidence speaking about dissidents as a Mexican-American, and this young Cuban’s obvious fear of answering questions about the government and system. As someone who would like to see Cuba rewrite its constitution, and who wants to be a part of constructive change without ending up in jail, my young friend took on a huge challenge by meeting with us at all. As I told the group from the beginning of our program, there is truth embedded in what is not said, too, and learning to listen for double speak and omission is the only way to understand Cuban perspectives. This university student’s experience with us was a clear example of that challenge.
Caridad Regina García: Conversations with a Cuban Educator
I met painter and educator Caridad Regina García on my first trip to Cuba, and we have been close friends ever since. Just two months before her 90th birthday, Cari opened her tiny Vedado apartment to the group and shared a small glimpse into her life story. She spoke of her mother, who was a seamstress, and of the series of near-accidents that led Cari into a successful teaching career in spite of her race and class pre-Revolution. After her plans to teach art were diverted by the Revolution, Cari taught Philosophy and History at the University of Havana (there was a pervasive belief post-1960 that history and philosophy were the most important subjects). Participants got a chance to see Cari’s artwork, to ask questions about her perspectives on education, and to get an inside look into a Cuban home that wasn’t part of the official “casa” system (a sort of peek behind the curtain). Many participants noted that this very personal experience was a highlight of the program, and many left with pieces of Caridad’s artwork that are now hanging in homes across North America — a pretty big deal for an artist in isolation under a dictatorship (I’ve personally promised to will my many pieces by Caridad Regina García to the Museum of Modern Art in New York, since it’s not easy for Cubans still in Cuba to get their work seen in the United States).
Preparing for Cuba 2017
As we gear up for our Educator Development Programs for 2017 (Project-Based Learning in Cuba, and Passion and Purpose in Peru, both in July 2017), I find myself reflecting on the power of immersive travel to impact educational practice. There are perspectives we can only gain by getting in close, by “getting proximate,“ as Bryan Stevenson put it at the People of Color Conference in December 2016. It’s not that we come home with all of our questions answered; in the case of Cuba, I suspect that most participants returned with more questions than answers. But the questions we ask as a result of proximity are more authentic, more grounded in realities we’ve seen and experienced for ourselves. As a result, our explorations with students take on a nuanced multiplicity, a deep and authentic recognition of multiple truths and the real complexity of building more equitable societies in a just and peaceful world.
