A Purpose

“Purpose is what gives life a meaning.” –Charles H. Perkhurst

Last week, when the confusion about my job here was escalating, my principal was gone traveling. So, I just went with the flow and felt mildly productive with some work I did in the teacher resource center. A short-lived feeling of purpose. After my run-in with the resource center manager who told me very firmly to not speak to the principal about the worries I have with the schedule, I decided that this man was wack and I do in fact need to speak to the principal about this all. After all, it is MY role we are talking about here and MY purpose here. So, I went to the principal and shared my concerns about the schedule and my specific role in regards to this TLM (teaching and learning materials) business. She went on to say how she has only been here for two years and has no experience with IFESH volunteers or what exactly they do. Awesome. (note the sarcasm that accompanies that “Awesome”) Then, she said to wait until the vice principal of academics returns to clarify with him. Well, this vice principal of academics told me last week that I just need to wait and that “the students will come, don’t worry”. When they come, what am I supposed to do? They go to the resource center to make their posters for their class assignments. I don’t think I should be completing assignments for students.

No one seems all that concerned about the fact that I am doing very minimal work and getting paid far more than I need to live. The only set part of my schedule is that every other week, I teach for one hour each day. And the only reason that is happening is because a teacher sacrificed some of her teaching time for me. I am almost absolutely certain that is wrong. My belief was that the purpose of this organization was to place teachers in schools where there is a high need. I can’t help but think about the hundreds of struggling schools throughout Ghana that would immediately have a reason for me to exist. I’m trying people. Really trying to breathe, be patient, and maintain a positive attitude. But I keep going back to the thought that I should have found a job teaching children in a school. I want to be in Africa. That isn’t the problem. I just want to wake up each day and have a reason to get out of bed. Maybe I’m just too American for Africa.