British Columbia

The golden rules for RiP researchers by Kathy Rollheiser

As a researcher I realize that there are certain golden rules that we “Rippers” must adhere in order to be successful in this work. The following is a list, by no means exhaustive, of the rules that I believe must guide and inform us:

• have a willing spirit
• do not make assumptions
• be flexible
• pursue the truth with dogged determination
• have courage
• be prepared
• recognize luck for what it is (an accident)
• trust your intuition
• seize all opportunities that further your cause
• be honest
• have a sense of humour, and finally,
• be thorough and careful in your analysis.

This piece demonstrates how I followed these rules during a challenging job overseas.

1) Have a willing spirit

In September and October of 2002, I accepted a short-term consultancy with the Education Development Center out of Washington D.C. This non-government organization was working on a three-year pilot-project in Nigeria, to help bring learner-centered education and some relevant teaching tools to this resource-starved country. I signed on for a five-week stint in Abuja, the capital city of Nigeria. As I was getting my shots, an overly helpful travel nurse outlined the various exotic and horrific diseases that foreigners can fall prey to in Nigeria. She was especially animated when she described the remedy for dengue fever.

“The only thing you can do is cut a hole in your cot and put a bucket under you, and pray it doesn’t run its full course.”

I managed to ask, “How long is that?”

“Usually 6 to 8 weeks,” she said cheerfully.

When I got home I tried to back out but they threatened legal action as I had signed a contract. They found me in my hiding place under the stairs and strapped me in on the plane.

2) Do not make assumptions

One of my duties was to facilitate a two-day workshop in which I was to introduce the idea and principles of learner-centered education (which was not yet even conceived of in Nigeria; teachers stood at the front of the room and talked, and students spent much of the day memorizing and reciting things from books). Every consultant had to prepare a plan and have a rehearsal of their workshops with the Chief of Party, (the head of the project, hired by the company), and the woman in charge of community liaison, Moji. This was to make sure there were no items that could offend the Nigerian education administrators, and to make sure I knew the dress protocol, as many of the educators would be Muslim.

I had just begun my rehearsal, and was about to start an activity that included some funny plays on words to make a point, when Moji interrupted and suggested that I remove the jokes. She said that Nigerians take their education seriously and that some of the jokes may be offensive to Muslims. She suggested that to be safe I not use any of them. This took the wind out of my sails momentarily, but I dutifully shoved that page to the back of my notes and carried on. The rest of the workshop rehearsal went well, with only one other sticking point, and one that illustrates the vast distance between cultures at times.

I had posed the question, “What are the benefits of being a lifelong learner”, and had envisioned lively small group discussions around this question in the workshop. Moji put up her hand and said,

“But you are assuming that being a lifelong learner is a good thing and something to be sought after.”

I admit I just stared at Moji for a moment, I was so surprised by her perspective. I could see that the Chief of Party was enjoying this immensely, and looked at me quizzically, waiting for my answer.

“Isn’t it?” I stammered.

“Not in Nigeria. Not to the average Nigerian. Look around you. The next time you are walking down the street or on a bus you will not see Nigerians reading a book while they wait. They would much rather look at the beauty of the scenery than read books,” she said.

“Go figure,” I said.

3) Be flexible

I thought hard for a moment, trying to think of a way to salvage this.

“Ok, well thank you for setting me straight about that. Would it be fair then, to pose this question? ‘ Is lifelong learning desirable?’” I offered.

Moji thought for a moment and then said, “Yes, that would be a good question.”

Up until that point I had not been nervous about the workshop, but now I was terrified. I looked out the window but we were on the tenth floor. With the elevators not working, (nothing works in Nigeria) I didn’t fancy the trek down. I would not escape today.

4) Be prepared

The night before the workshop did little to calm my nerves. As we were leaving the hotel where we had set up for the workshop, a communication glitch between me and my young Nigerian assistant came to our attention. (The “glitch” was that he spoke Yoruba, and I spoke English. And although he denied it, I was pretty sure he had a speech impediment, too.)

As we were exiting the lobby, 20 to 30 education administrators and master teachers were arriving, and there were no rooms booked for that night. It seems that he had booked hotel rooms for two nights, not accounting for the night before the workshop.

5) Recognize luck for what it is (an accident)

Luckily the hotel was not full and we hastily sorted it out with minimal discomfort. Well, it was minimal discomfort for me anyway. Since I didn’t understand Yoruba, the yelling and dressing down rolled off my back like water off a duck. I can’t speak for my assistant, though.

6) Pursue the truth with dogged determination

Ever since Moji had suggested I remove the funny bits from my presentation it bothered me. I believe that humour is an excellent teaching tool; I use funny stories about alphabet wars and sibling rivalry between sounds in my teaching all the time. The Nigerians I had met all seemed to have wonderful senses of humour. My own experience said, “Go ahead and do the activity anyway”. I would play it by ear. If things were going well, I’d decide then. If things were going poorly, well, I’d try to slip out the back.

7) Have courage

I went into the workshop feeling a little apprehensive. I had planned the workshop to teach by example, so the whole two days immersed the participants in learner-focused activities. This would be something very new to them, and if they truly didn’t appreciate humour… well, this would be a long two days for all of us! I was hoping they had pretty much done away with death by stoning.

8) Seize all opportunities that further your cause

I put up a welcome message on the board, and greeted them as they came in. What a magnificent sight! The men wore the traditional Muslim dress, striking colours of purple, gold and turquoise with matching pill hats, and the women wore beautiful bright dresses and shimmering shawls. As I strode back to the front of the room, the first row saw my message and began laughing, causing a ripple that went through all the rows.

I had written “Hakuna Matata” on my easel. They were delighted that I knew that phrase, and wanted to know how I had learned it. One man thanked me for going to the trouble to learn a phrase from his language. Was I going to tell them that I got it from a children’s cartoon? How could I? They had never heard of Walt Disney—most Nigerians could not afford to go to a movie. How could I even begin to explain the concept?

“It was the least I could do.”

I murmured demurely. I was about to begin the first activity when a man in the front row leaned down and picked up a paper that had fallen out of my notes. He looked at it and then handed it to me. He asked a simple question,

“Is this part of your presentation?” For a moment, all I could do was stare at him.

9) Be honest (unless you are seizing an opportunity)

Finally I heard myself say,

“It has some funny things on it but I was told they might offend you so I decided against using them.” A woman next to him said,

“Why don’t you show us? We are not so fragile. Let us be the judge.”

Then they all began asking to see what was so offensive. I looked nervously for the nearest escape route.

10) Trust your intuition

So, I wrote them on the easel and explained the ambiguity of the English language. “These were real headlines in newspapers.” I explained. This was the first one…

“Prostitutes Appeal to Pope”…

To my huge relief they burst out laughing. They loved it. This gave me the courage to pursue an activity that I didn’t share with Moji in my rehearsal —that I was going to teach them a children’s song, so they could feel and experience for themselves the benefit of movement, singing and laughter as a teaching tool. These were dignitaries in the education field, and I was afraid they might think I was ridiculing them. Again, I took a chance, but I believed this would work.

11) Have a sense of humour

I told them about the little rhythm song, The Three Bears. This is a three-part sort of jive song with papa bears singing the base line in whole notes, mama bears singing the alto lines in half notes, and baby bears piping up with soprano voices in quarter notes. It is also done with actions and is a round. At first, one very stately superintendent named Akeem objected, saying that bears weren’t very African. I suggested that we could say Three Lions, but then he smiled and said,

“No, The Three Lions just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” They all laughed and I was delighted to see that he was teasing me.

We got into groups and after I showed them their parts, we began singing the song; papa bears first, then mama bears and final baby bears joining in. I was speechless. They sang in the most beautiful voices—full, lusty, and loud! There was no tentative self-consciousness here—they got into the song with gusto! We must have sung the song on three other occasions throughout the day, and they loved it. We began ad-libbing different actions, and I had all the mama bears “stirring the pot” and the papa bears moving like rap artists. As we performed it for the last time I looked up and there was Moji was standing in the doorway. I held my breath. “This is it,” I thought, “I’m so fired.”

However, my stately superintendent Akeem saw her and beckoned her over to stand beside him.

“You must join us!” he bellowed. “This is the latest thing in education!”

She had no choice really, so she joined us. I am pretty sure I caught her smiling as she “stirred the pot”.

12) Be thorough and careful in your analysis

I knew I had succeeded in the goal of the workshop when one teacher remarked,

“If that was fun for us, imagine how the children will love it”.

When my time was up I left Abuja with a heavy heart. I was leaving behind some precious new friends, and the experience of a lifetime. I was also leaving behind horrible toilets, a bad case of amoebas, parasites and a mild psychosis brought on by the malaria medication. I would like to say that I also miss their favourite meal, ragout of goat, but I am bound by Rule #9.