EDITOR, The Tribune

EACH time I think that we are making a few steps forward in correcting simple issues in our education system I am quickly put in my place by the debacle that is our public service system.

A few months ago, I visited Preston H Albury High School in Rock Sound, Eleuthera, and to my surprise I came to learn that they were missing teachers for core subjects which ought to be taught to Bahamian students as this, I believe, is the least to be expected of their birthright.

Disturbed by this, I inquired to find how I could become a part-time teacher and in short I was told to call the Ministry of Education. Fair enough, I thought to myself as I envisioned that this would be a great way to assist the children who attended the school.

On August 5, 2016 (yes, a Friday) I called the Ministry of Education on Thompson Boulevard to familiarise myself with the process. Of course, I was greeted very dryly by a seemingly uninterested switchboard operator, who in between eating something and sighing breathlessly managed to murmer “Education, hello”.

After stating my reason for calling, she patched me through to the Human Resources Department (HR). Brilliant, I thought to myself, they will definitely understand my concern for calling and they would be able to point me in the right direction. That wishful thought was short-lived to say the least. It’s important that I mention that I had called “Education” at 3.30pm, so feel free to infer on that note.

Having been asked my credentials by an unnamed lady in HR, I complied with her question and informed her that I had both an undergraduate as well as a graduate degree in business. I should have ended the call the moment she said that I was interested in teaching at Harbour Island All-Age School as that was a clear indication that she was not paying attention to a single word I said. Perhaps I should give her credit for getting the schools close enough by association?

About two minutes into our conversation, I could hear the frustration in her tone as I expressed to her that we are doing a disservice to the children by not having enough teachers to cover core subjects. She abruptly placed me on hold, or so she thought as I could hear a full conversation she and a male colleague had, through her hand that covered the receiver, during which they insisted that I was a “liar talkin’ ‘bout I wanna teach”.

As a result of having her impromptu meeting with her colleague, she returned to our call to let me know that “the ministry is aware of which areas are lacking and teachers are placed according to need”. After hearing that statement, I asked her if she’s implying that there isn’t a need for core teachers on the islands.

Noticing that she had started to raise her voice in an answer to me I retracted my question and replaced it with a simpler one. “How do I go about making an application and is it online because I am out of the country at the moment?” In an irritated tone, she informed me that it was online; however, the information online is incomplete, therefore I would have to physically visit the office for a complete list of requirements. I informed her that I would much rather get the information now, so that I would be prepared once I visit the office. At this point it was ten to four and she was at her boiling point when she said in the most vulgar sentiment: “I don’t have the time to let you know what all you need to bring so you need to come in and pick up the application ‘cause it has the list stapled to it”.

The last I checked there was not a surplus of teachers in The Bahamas (let alone ones willing to move to the out islands). Further, I recall that a function of HR was recruitment; therefore a Human Resources professional would have seen my phone call as an opportunity to ensure that sufficient teachers were in place for the new school year.

I found my experience troubling. However, it was not unexpected, therefore the mass resignation of Bahamian teachers was no surprise at all.

SHENA JOHNSON

Nassau,

September 23, 2016.