There’s much to be gained by sharing culture and medicine with Cuba.
Schools: Of U.S. poets banned, and Cuban poets unread.
At the end of a morning visit to Havana’s Julio Mella Middle School four weeks ago, I exchanged books with a teacher. She gave me a worn copy of an American history text and I gave her a book of Alice Walker poems. I wanted to represent the spirit of San Francisco where Walker once lived down the street from me. I was surprised that the teacher hadn’t heard of our Pulitzer Prizewinning author. Several days later I discovered a possible explanation. The Cuban National Director of History Education I met with said that Cuban schools rarely teach contemporary American authors because the embargo and other legal restrictions prevent them from accessing our books.
Like most of my Cuban counterparts, I applaud President Obama’s historic step onto Cuban soil Sunday. I hope he enjoys lunching at one of the new private res- taurants and watching the Tampa Bay Rays challenge the Cuban national baseball team, but I’d also like to see him teach an English lesson at Julio Mella. He’d see that although Cuba actually spends more per capita on education relative to GDP than almost every other country in the world, it is hurting for resources.
American students deprived
Ironically, here in the resource-rich United States, we deprive our own students of the opportunity to discover Cuban literary icons such as José Martí and Nicolás Guillén. Although you can find their poetry in translation on Amazon in 30 seconds, I would imagine the average public school teacher in San Francisco hasn’t read a single stanza. We rarely teach Cuban history either, except in reference to our own story: the Spanish-American War, the Cuban Missile Crisis, and perhaps a throwaway Che Guevara quote.
Because of current restrictions, my colleague and I in Havana cannot call to discuss Walker’s metaphors. If the students are to receive precious individual copies, I’ll have to bring a suitcase on my next visit. Helping promote interchange between schools isn’t some quaint service project. Young people deserve to be an integral part of the emerging relationship between our countries.
I’m fully aware of the claim that I’m a romanticizing apologist for an indoctrinating Cuban educational system, a position our Republican presidential candidates would surely trumpet shamelessly as they spar to prove who can most manfully shun the island. I’ll acknowledge traces of ideological rigidity. I was annoyed, though sometimes amused, by how the history text I’d been given casts the U.S. primarily as imperialist antagonist, and the seventh graders at Julio Mella were hardly convincing quoting Fidel Castro. But when I gently challenged their official syllabus, the Cuban educators were intrigued. They wanted to see our course outlines and classroom methods. I had the privilege of co-designing a mini-high school unit on the historical roots of Sunday’s summit in which students analytically compare President Obama’s and President Castro’s speeches. Later this spring, we will share results by email. I felt like I was back at Mission High School, planning curriculum with colleagues.
You might wonder what you can do to help Cuba here in San Francisco, 3,000 miles away and facing continued travel restrictions. Actually, there are modest, but significant ways to join this historical moment.
Get to know Cuba. Check out a bilingual edition of Martí’s “Simple Verses” from the San Francisco Public Library. Do an improvised Cuba Google search in English or Spanish. If you don’t speak Spanish, Google Translate, though it tends to hatchet prepositions, will get you there.
Connecting via email
And email cuts through the embargo. In the press, we hear about how underdeveloped the infrastructure is, but whenever I told a Havana cab driver I was going to my favorite jazz club later that night, he’d inevitably pull out his card and say “Call or email if you need a lift.” You really can connect with someone in Cuba if you want to. When I started my research before I knew anyone in Cuba, I discovered email addresses on numerous websites. They love hearing from North Americans, whether in crisp English or terrible Spanish. And while schools generally don’t have websites, they’re starting to get into Facebook.
Whatever small effort we make ultimately goes beyond just educational exchange. Our intention adds to the vibration of the larger opening between our countries. It’s encouraging to witness, though we need to push on the cautious, qualified approach to change. I’d love to see the kids at James Lick Middle School and Julio Mella discuss “Simple Verses” and “The Color Purple,” but that should be only the beginning.
Erik Gleibermann is a writing instructor at the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Education’s Principal Leadership Institute that trains social justice-oriented public school leaders. To comment, submit your letter to the editor at www.sfgate.com/ submissions.