irony...nothing special

I had person after person pop their head into my office today to confirm that tonight was the last English class. To my surprise, it wasn’t just my students, but others as well. The hardest one was, “Tonight is the last class, right?” I looked at him, “Yes.” He said, “Ok, then it’s nothing special tonight, right? Cause I’m going to Male’” I just looked at him and shrugged. “Last class,” I repeated. Nothing special…The results? Well, I had the lowest attendance tonight of any night ever on my second island.

I wonder if anyone ever stopped to think of the message they sent me by not coming even to say goodbye, “Yeah..whatever.” I’ve given two years of my life here. It’s full of the biggest ironies.

1. I worked harder and longer than in any previous jobs and my final General Manager thought it was “That’s ridiculous, what do you work, TWO hours a day??” In fact, for most of my contract I’ve worked 12-14 hours a day, seven days a week. That stopped as soon as he said that. I was furious and completely de-motivated.

2. 2. Using the principles of Howard Gardner’s Multiple Intelligence Theory, I’ve not only incorporated my students’ learning preferences for learning styles, but completely designed and wrote the syllabi and lessons by continually using their feedback and responses to lessons. I made lessons fun and memorable while teaching them a great deal. Results? People complained that my lessons were too much fun. They had expectations that lessons should be serious or they are not legitimate. So…I gave them what they wanted, and then no one wanted to use their off time to come to lessons anymore. They weren’t enough fun to use their off time. (The new lessons were strictly hospitality and job based from course books).

3. I’ve never worked harder (and I’m an extremely hard worker), never consecutively worked such long hours for 2 years, never pushed myself so hard to excel…and I’ve never been appreciated less.

In looking over CVs for my replacement, one candidate said, “I’d like to finally be someplace where I’m appreciated.” I deleted the application without even looking. This is not the place to be appreciated. This is a place to have a thick skin because you are the most forgotten person on the entire island, the current General Manager thinks it’s a pussy fluff job (teaching 200 people 2 lessons a week) and you’re alone most of the time.

I’m glad to finally leave this place where the men out number the women 20 to 1…and there’s only 300 people on 2 islands. Glad to leave this place where everything I do, say, go or buy is noted and told to everyone on the island and finally repeated back to me in a strange “Ah, you did this…” phone call as if it’s important to remind me that I’m being watched all the time.

I’m sorry to leave this place where the rain is so beautiful and warm on my face…where the sea is crystal clear and the sea creatures are not shy; sad to leave this place where I can ride the boats in the very tip of the stern with the wind on my face and running through my hair and fingertips as if I’m flying. Happy to leave this place which is so like a beautiful cage; lamenting leave this place that is like a living dream or a beautiful (if simple) painting.

I want to feel sad because I’m leaving…but I mostly feel sad because I’ve given so much and received so little.