A Poorly Fitting Shirt: Perspectives on Senegalese Primary Education, Volume 1

I learned a lot from my research experience in Salvador (Brasil) and arriving in Senegal, my second research destination, I was very much looking forward to an early start on school visits, observations and teacher interviews. As my good luck would have it (and thanks to Godbrother Sam), bright and early, the day after I arrived (by night), I was visiting schools.

As you may or not remember from previous posts on Senegal (it has been a little while), Dakar is dusty, close to being the dustiest place on earth (maybe I'm exaggerating a bit) and your typical school is not immune to this affliction. The typical primary school in Dakar will have a wall surrounding its premises (and depending where you are, this wall will be in varying stages of disrepair) with an interior courtyard of dust and a school building which is most often a single-story, sprawling, open-air structure. With Sam's help both in finding teachers (his YMCA membership card operated like the key to the city...or school) as well as translating (in the cases where teachers did not speak English), I was able to conduct 3 interviews at 3 different schools on my first full day in Dakar. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

Perhaps the most interesting conversation of that first day was with the Director of the Infants' School at the YMCA. A former teacher for many years before being appointed to her current position, she offered a very interesting perspective as someone who had seen changes and improvements to Senegal's system of primary education, both as a teacher and as an administrator. The most interesting comment that she made was one for which I was ill-prepared as she introduced the issue of Senegal's continued use of the French (former colonizers) model of education. Prior to the conversation, I was aware of the French influence in many things Senegalese, though I did not do a great deal of research on the impact of this influence.

"Let's say," she began, "that you want to give me a nice shirt from the U.S." She paused and smiled, wanting to be sure that I understood what she was saying (though accented, her English was very good. I remember thinking to myself at that moment whether her reference to this "gift" was some sort of ploy for me to give her something in exchange for the interview). I smiled back and let her continue.
"But you see, our sizes and shapes are different." With this she sat up straight in her seat, as if to be make clear the difference in our sizes. "But it's no matter. You give me the shirt and I wear it, though it is clear that it does not fit me." She emphasized the last word with a thumb pointing at her chest. "This is what our system of education is like, currently. The French style of education is great, but it does not fit us nor does it fit our culture. We are Senegalese, not French."

The close to the analogy was a powerful one and over the next few minutes she explained the ways in which the French model of education made education (beginning in the primary stages) inaccessible to many Senegalese youth, particularly as a result of language (food for another post) and curricular organization. In specific reference to the latter impediment to education, the Director admitted that as much as she understood the importance of a broad curriculum, she believed it important for the breadth to be narrowed (as well as more focused), greater depth emphasized in certain areas (particular in language and mathematics) and for vocational skills to be included as part of a more holistic educational "package."

"As I said before," she continued, wrapping up the subject, "there are many great things about the French model of education. But we are not French and for many of these children, the French reality will not be their reality."