What am I teaching these kids...

The textbooks here are truly horrendous. In the few days that I've been working at School #4 in Sisian, I've seen text book exercises ranging from the harmlessly amusing:

to the factually inaccurate:

To the downright insidious. Today I was asked to read a poem from the 7th graders textbook, so that they could hear what a native speaker sounded like. I opened book borrowed from one of the students to the page specified by my counterpart and read:

What did you learn in school today,
Dear little boy of mine?
I learned that Washington never told a lie.
I learned that soldiers seldom die.
I learned that everybody's free.
And that's what teacher said to me.

I learned that policemen are my friends.
I learned that justice never ends.
I learned that murderers die for their crimes.
Even if we make a mistake sometimes.

I learned our government must be strong.
It's always right and never wrong,
Our leaders are the finest men.
And we elect them again and again.
That's what I learned in school today.
That's what I learned in school.  

This being Armenia (where plagerism isn't really a thing), the 'poem' was not cited, of course. Had it been so, the book would have informed students that it wasn't in fact a poem at all, but the truncated lyrics of a song written by a young Tom Paxton, recorded in 1964. If the book had cited the work, it probably also would have mentioned that the song was written as a criticism of the national education system,  and was quickly taken up as a rallying call by critics of the US government protesting the Vietnam War. Essentially, the song existed to indicate that the things which it presents as factual pieces of information are falsehoods we tell to children in school. Ironically, that's exactly what I was doing.

As is was, none of this contextual information was included in the textbook. I read the passage aloud as I had been asked to do, and sat there as the students translated the 'poem' line by line into Armenian. 

I struggled with the issue of whether or not I should say anything. 

On the one hand, my counterpart seemed not to know about the passage's history- and why should she? These days it's a fairly obscure piece of music, relatively speaking. There's no reason for someone living halfway around the world to have ever heard of Tom Paxton or his songs. But Armenian culture is very authoritarian- for many English teachers, to have their knowledge of all things English-language related questioned in the slightest would be completely unacceptable. My relationship with my counterpart is probably the most important factor in the relative success or failure of my work in School #4. I really didn't want to jeopardize it by pointing out something she didn't know (in front of students, no less) so early in our work together.

On the other hand, the idea of teaching young students that "our government must be strong, it's always right and never wrong...."- especially given the authoritarian and militaristic tendencies within Armenian culture- really didn't sit well with me.

Surprisingly, it was the students themselves who helped me out of this predicament. I should have given them more credit. As I struggled with my thoughts, they continued to translate away until they reached the line which read "Our leaders are the finest men...". The students faltered in their translation. A few giggled. One girl said something to my counterpart in Armenian that I didn't understand. I assumed it was something to do with the rampant corruption that plagues the Armenian government. I took my opening:

"I should also say" I started, directing my gaze at my counterpart as if I were talking to her rather than the students, but trying to pick my words so that the students could also understand them. I spoke slowly and carefully, trying to be as clear as possible- I had to communicate a concept that would not be easy for the students to understand, as there isn't much space for political satire in Armenia's public discourse. "that this was written ironically- the man who wrote it did not believe any of the things he said. Instead, he believed these things were lies. He wrote this to criticize the government." 

My counterpart looked surprized and amused- thankfully neither angry nor upset- "Oh- I didn't know that," She said. "I don't know how we should teach this poem now." It was as positive a response as I could hoped to have received, although she did not translate my comments for her students as she normally would have. I'm not sure how much of my little speech they understood. Of course, it sounded like the students already knew that at least parts of the 'poem' didn't coincide with their reality, so maybe they didn't need my explanation as much as I thought they did.

I'm sure this won't be the last time I'm confronted with inaccuracies in the text. Some are easy to let go: what difference does it make in these children's lives if they are taught that there are "more than 50 states" in the US? Or that "Eskimos live in Arizona and Indians live in Alaska" (issues of politically correct language and respect of indigenous peoples aside)? These small factual errors have little bearing on their lives and can be easily corrected later on if necessary. 

Passages like "What Did You Learn in School Today?" raise much more significant problems. I don't know how to deal with situations like this one. Today I was lucky- the students caught the problem with their text and all I had to do was confirm their suspicions. What if I'm not given that opening next time?

I think that the solution lies in my relationship with my counterpart. If we can be comfortable enough with each other, it won't be a big deal when I point out problems I have with the textbooks. And if we can develop a pattern of lesson planning together, I will have a chance to talk wit her about my concerns before we present the information to the students. They tell you during training that relationships are everything here. I'm beginning to understand what they meant.