When I worked at a teacher trainer institute for primary school teachers in Guinea, I saw that many of the adults who were coming to train to be teachers had been let down by the system. Their own education had often failed to support meaningful learning, resulting in inadequate French literacy and subpar numeracy (understanding of mathematics), both of which are necessary prerequisites for primary school teaching. An education system’s most important asset is its educators, and I became concerned that the colonial legacy of the French education system had created systemic damage in the country, with effects lasting for decades. This included the institutionalization of a French bureaucracy ill-fitted to local realities, mandatory French language instruction, a curriculum developed by defining “knowledge” through a European lens, and so much more.
The most absurd part of my experience working as a teacher in Guinea, though, was that I was assigned to teach at this school. There was the idea that somehow, the power and privilege of my American passport bestowed me with a unique knowledge or ability to positively contribute to this conundrum, despite my own inability to speak the local language and my unfamiliarity with the context. The legacy of colonialism is still visible today when we look at which cultures are given primary or more value, who holds power and who is presumed to hold knowledge.
