“International Investigations in Cuban Education”

When I started my PhD last fall, I never imagined I would spend nine days in Cuba with two-dozen graduate students, conducting research, and meeting with colleagues and schools in the Cuban education system. As I continue to think critically about education in the US, I have to be aware of how education exists in other cultures and contexts. And this is what lead me to apply for the opportunity to study abroad.

If we truly care about education, the status of students (of all types), the future of our systems, and how globalization shows up in classrooms and schools, we have to consider our individual and personal contributions to advancing knowledge within the field. And so, “International Investigations in Cuban Education,” commenced.

And as I entered that space of learning and seeking knowledge, I quickly realized I didn’t know all that much about Cuba.

“Elián González. Old cars. Guantanamo Bay. Fidel Castro.”

When asked about my knowledge of Cuba before this trip, these points represented my low level of understanding. Furthermore, before this trip, I knew virtually nothing about Cuba’s education system. I grew up with peripheral perspectives, but never developed my own, formal and concrete version of what I knew Cuba to be versus what I had heard from others.

As a result of this opportunity, my colleagues and I were granted the privilege of great access to Cuban schools and educators. We spent a substantial amount of time before the trip reading and reflecting on the history of Cuba, the dark connections to the United States, and the reality of a free-to-all education system that exits from preschool to graduate higher education. Although brief, we got a small glimpse into a system of schooling that was unknown to most everyone on the trip.

“But what did you do,” you might be wondering? To synthesize some highlights, and connect to my desire to keep pursuing context and knowledge, the following thoughts and photos best capture my time on the island.

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School Visits
While we had opportunities to tour, our primary responsibility was to conduct independent research on various components of Cuban education. Curious about campus environments and institution types, my study looked at the differences between one primary school and one university in Holguín Province. Over the course of three days, I had the opportunity to visit each school, and found incredible similarities between the two. Art and colorful paintings were found throughout each school, and adorned classroom walls and outdoor spaces. Gathering areas transcended from inside to outside, and historical figures were well-represented across both environments. There was no shortage of historical understanding or national pride. Natural air flowed through classrooms, breezeways, and open areas, and the warm climate felt less severe as a result of this design. We also got to experience break time, which we might identify as, “recess,” in the US. I don’t think I stopped smiling during that 40-minute break. Kids of all ages were running, dancing, singing, laughing, and engaging with their teachers and friends. This outside and common space that was so still just moments before the bell rang had become a concrete playground of joy and engagement.

Meetings with Educators
In addition to visiting schools, my colleagues and I had the opportunity to meet with scholars, researchers, and teachers from various Cuban institutions and pedagogies. We had long discussions about the differences in our schooling, and always connected back to the reality that a student-centered framework can  make a huge difference in the way we approach education. “Didactics” existed as a continued theme in our conversations, and the educators shared the ways in which this philosophy showed up as an art form rather than a style of teaching. The spirit and passion for teaching and learning was a big part of their approach. The biggest highlight from these sessions came from one of our final conversations, when the educators asked each of us US representatives to share more about our personal research agenda. This was the first time on the trip that I was asked to explain my interest in parent/family programs in education. With the reliance on a translator to articulate my idea, I had to be very intentional and succinct with how I explained my interest in investigating the exclusionary nature of these types of campus traditions. As I explained that we have many students who show up in education spaces without parents and families, I instantly felt a response that this, too, appears in Cuban spaces as well. My colleague who was translating looked at me and said, “They really appreciate your topic.” This was a validating moment, as I had just spent the past semester trying to better understand how to explain my topic, and questioned how to move toward a more thoughtful research strategy.

Donald Trump and Betsy DeVos
I hate to let Donald Trump rain on my Cuba parade, but alas, he has. And DeVos, too. If you follow me on any form of social media, you know that I have an incredibly strong opinion of DeVos and her dangerous and inexperienced approach to schooling in the US. And as much as I wanted to leave Trump and DeVos back in the US, while I was in Cuba, they continued to be a topic of conversation again and again. Outside of questions and general assumptions, Cuban scholars were well-aware of our current reality in education. They were aware of our shared questions and concerns. They were away of every tweet, and the impact future decisions can have on our country, and the countries around us. But there is power in sharing ideas and perspectives. We were in Cuba on an education exchange, but I would be remised if I did not admit that this exchange was very one-sided. You see, there weren’t (aren’t) 30 Cuban educators headed to the United States to engage in the same critical discussions as we were having. One US colleague stated in his closing speech, “The Trump administration can’t stop the momentum we have here,” and I am letting that idea guide much of my thinking as I continue to seek information, unearth new knowledge, and teach and educate those around me.

I also must acknowledge that Cuba is not perfect. And while we had a close glimpse at some of the educational entities in Cuba, we had limited time to understand and unpack the economic and social struggles that exist outside of the education system (and even some that exist inside the education system). We are not perfect either.

There can be an unsettling feeling when critically analyzing our education system in the US, especially when considering the complex nature of k-12, higher education, and all that exists between (even when simply starting with public and private differences). In Cuba, we heard, “Education is a human right,” again and again, and much of that was backed up by the literacy campaigns that existed following the revolution. With more time, I might be able to spot the inconsistencies in that mantra, though in the meantime, I feel as if in the US, we are moving away from that belief.

Do we really value education as a human right?

Are children really valued citizens, and how serious do we take their learning?

Do we take their learning serious?

Before applying to this program, I never would have imagined an opportunity like this, meeting university and education association presidents, school principals, and top scholars in Cuban education. The opportunity to engage and reflect is part of what made my time in Cuba that much more special. And the opportunity to see past what I always understood as Cuba has helped me better understand how I show up in spaces where gaps exist on others’ path to understanding.

In closing, one US colleague challenged each participant to make a commitment to “what comes next” after Cuba. If we want exchanges and experiences to be truly transformative and informational, we have to commit to life-long learning and growing, and to a reframe the idea that perfection exists without considering culture, history, and social context. Even as we ventured away from the country, we heard counter-narratives contradicting all that we had learned and began to understand. The shift became present. The balance became important.

We learned. And we are beginning and continuing to understand. As I reflect on this reality, I am thankful that the process, in this case, has become the product.

I commit,

Michael

“Does Donald Trump represent America?”

I recently attended a conference where, during a training of the faculty, the question was asked, “Does Donald Trump represent America.” The goal of the exercise is for faculty to find themselves somewhere along a 0% agree to 100% agree continuum. Among a room full of diversity practitioners, an initial response was, “He doesn’t represent me.” Upon further review of the probing question, it was quickly clear that, while The Donald may not represent “me” (or “some” of us) specifically, he is the voice for many others. And this is scary.

Following the recent holiday, I’ve seen an increasing number of friends note they were surprised by the number of family members they have who do, in fact, buy into the hate and fear-mongering displayed by many of the GOP candidates.

Donald Trump does represent America.

While my political beliefs are no secret (if you follow me on twitter you know which way I swing), I spend a lot of time actually investing in all sides of any argument or belief (political and beyond). Let us not forget, I was once a member of College Republicans many moons ago. And, I have yet to miss a single debate.

As the GOP debates provoke me to tweet with humor and to tweet with passion, it was not until recently that I fully comprehended the dangers of what these men (+Carly) are saying and doing. As a “politically engaged” Democrat who cares mostly about education and human rights, I am getting really nervous and anxious about what could and might go down in 2016. And this scares me.

Am I alone here?

Let’s pause for a moment.

It’s an Olympic year!

Where are you going with this, Michael?

Stay with me, please.

Like clockwork, and shortly after we celebrate a united approach to supporting various sporting events, we will become scattered, stressed, angry, and divided. In fact, this happens every four years. The Olympic Games commence, countries unite/rejoice/celebrate, and the United States’ citizens wave their flags from sea to shining sea.

And then an election happens.

And then division happens.

And then folks filter their input to only accept what they believe they’re capable of receiving.

“Thanks, Obama,” and all of that. 

To amend the initial question, it’s important to understand here, “Does *Donald Trump represent America,” also includes *Donald Trump-adjacent folks. The “scary” goes beyond Trump. Electing an individual who targets a specific identity group feels dangerous to me. It feels irresponsible. 

Who represents your America? Are you processing the impact of this year’s election? Are you talking with your friends, family, children? Will you vote for inclusive policies? Will you speak up against injustice? Do you have the courage?

Let us pause in preparation.

Road to Rio,

Michael

Trump*art via Ann Telnaes, The Washington Post

Live your truth.

When previously asked what advice I would give people – personally or professionally – I use to say something along the lines of, “Be authentic,” or, “Take chances,” or, “Never poop at a nightclub.” While I still agree with these sentiments, I am becoming more and more impacted by the idea of living our truth.

Live your truth.

If there’s one thing I fundamentally believe in at my very core, it’s that few things are better than living your truth. And few things are better than living in your most authentic self, thus committing to make the world a better place. Representation matters. Authenticity matters. Example matters. The minute I started living unapologetically, good things started happening. Life started to fall into place. Peace happened. I learned to accept the unexpected.

In honor of a new week of being inspired, I am conscious of the individuals on my timelines and in my life who are going above and beyond to live their authentic truth. Take some time to pause today, and check out the following friends who are inspiring not only me every single day, but the communities and world around them.

Take note…

Amanda Pouchot, community builder and co-founder of Levo League

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Destini Rogers, dancer and choreographer

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Paul Bauer, businessman by day & Seattle hiker/explorer by life

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Meg Bourne, CEO & founder of Art Feeds

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Yiorgos Boudouris, community builder and creative thinker

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Tomiwa Awobayiku, researcher and budding-Biologist

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Zachary Pullin, activist and social change thought-leader

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Heather Graham, blogger and lifestyle guide

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Nathan Box, blogger and nonprofit genius

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Terren Wooten, Broadway performer and the Kizha Carr

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Intentionality is everything, and as we grow and develop, surrounding ourself with individuals who are changing the world – one thought, mission, and effort at a time – is important now more than ever. And then, honoring those people who are in our lives – much like the ones I have listed above – becomes even more essential to our being inspired to create real and authentic (to our self) change.

What is your truth? How do you know it? How are you living it?

Check out the folks above, and all the clickable links included. These folks represent various capacities of change and influence, all with powerful nuggets to hold on to. A share, follow, link, or favorite are all appropriate – this is a great bunch of humans (and with many others who are not listed above). And build your own list. Who inspires you? How do they inspire you? What inspires you?

No, go. Make your own moves and waves. The world thanks you.

Hopeful,

Michael