Eastern And Western Packages

My life has always been quite surprising with regards to my state of mind! On days when I am absolutely positive and prepared, it can really topple my confidence with its unpredictable swings. On the contrary, when my anxiousness appears to be the order of the day, it elevates me to astounding heights!

This ebb and flow sunk into my nervous system which was jittered and calmed by the following events which happened coincidently or with a purpose in a sequence.

“It’s a good school and the KHDA has rated it well. I think we should get our children registered there for the next academic year,” my husband suggested having reservations about their present school. “I think we should approach the Admissions Office in time or they might put us on the waiting list,” he continued determined to change their school.

We completed their papers and met all requirements mentioned on the school website and drove in with hope to find them a place for the coming year. The ladies at the reception were from India and guided us through to the admissions office. While I filled in some forms handed over to me by the Admission Officer, my husband walked about the corridors getting a feel of the place.

The fee was paid and the boys got registered to be called in for an entrance exam on a later date. “Do you think I should also drop in my Resume for them to consider me for an appropriate position next year?” I asked my husband who confirmed it as a good idea. I met with the PA to the Principal who too was an Indian by origin.

She quickly glanced at my CV. “If you don’t mind my asking you, where are you from?” I smiled and answered, “I am from Pakistan.” She nodded her head taking the conversation forward. “You do understand you cannot be given an administrative post here,” she looked at me. I got a little confused. “And what do you define as an administrative post?” I asked her trying to clear any doubts in my mind. “Well, it says in your CV here that you have worked as a Curriculum Specialist. That post level is only given to British Certified Teachers!”

“And why is that?” the question practically fell from my mouth. She gave me a sarcastic look. “If you place your child in a British Curriculum you would want your child to have that accent! You will not compromise on anything less than that! That influence and contact is important to Asian parents.” I was surprised at her acceptance being an Asian herself.

I knew the conversation would not end fruitfully. “Ms. X, just help me understand this. If I am in an administrative post, I don’t really interact with the child much. It’s always the teacher who holds the maximum influence and contact as you say. So, how many British teachers does your school have?”

She became a little uncomfortable. “Well, we have a few but our policy is like that.” She flipped a few pages and asked me, “How come you haven’t mentioned your nationality and age on the resume? It’s the basic information required!” she had now decided to even up.

“I don’t think my profession is defined by my place of birth or my age. I am a teacher and to me that is a Universal term. If you would have paid attention to the details in the resume, you would have considered me as someone with a good qualification and experience in the field.” I was completely ticked off by now.

“Well all I can say is that we have high standards to meet and if we do consider your CV, we’ll give you a call.”

I left completely annoyed by her logic. As soon as I sat in the car my husband asked me what was wrong. I related the incident to him. He suddenly took a U turn and brought me back to school.

 “I want you to go and speak to the Principal about this woman’s attitude and racist comments. Also inform them that we will not be admitting our children to their Psycho-School!” I looked at him a little unsure. “Don’t think! What nonsense! All of their staff is Indian. I saw the classrooms and except for two staff members, all were Asian nationalities. The Head of the school must know about how prospective candidates are being interrogated!”

His support helped me understand the need to report the disturbing event.

The Principal of the school was a British gentleman. My presence near his office threatened his PA, the lady who had interviewed me and she came to me, “He is awfully busy today. You will have to wait a long time.” I nodded and sat down. She walked in and out of his office nervously sending in teachers and parents to delay the process hoping I would leave. I stood up and walked up to check if the waiting line of parents had shortened.

“Why aren’t you sitting in your place? You can’t just barge into his office like that! Ma’am please sit down!” I actually wanted to slap her across the face for her high tone and assumption on my intentions but I didn’t want to leave without meeting him.

After waiting for about forty minutes she came to me, “He is very busy but will spare five minutes he said!”

I walked in. He did not stand up to greet instead motioned me to sit down. “You wanted to see me?” he asked. “Mr.Y, my husband and I got our children registered with your school an hour ago but I must tell you I’m most disappointed by the School philosophy and policy which was put forth to me by your PA.”

“Is that so,” he acted surprised, “and what did she say to you?” I related the incident to him in a calm manner as the purpose was to let him know and not fight.

“I take it that she was just trying to inform you about the school policy which has been approved by the Ministry of Education. We have two packages. The Western and the Eastern package. I’m not commenting on what is right or wrong, but that’s the way it is.”

“And so, as per the Eastern package, I may never progress or grow in my profession as it’s my misfortune that I was given birth on the Eastern side of the globe?” I asked him smiling.

“Well, if you had a degree from the west it would have helped you more is what I can say!”

“Mr. Y, clearly teachers aren’t made out of degrees but passion. The most passionate teachers are ones who are determined to eradicate intolerance and racism from the society. I can’t be judged by the colour of my skin or be rated by the country of my origin.”

“I believe you are purposely labelling my school as racist and I find that very offending!” he became a little dramatic holding up his hands. “Well, if you are trying to defend the lady and endorse her comments as the policy of the school, then yes, you and your school are by all means racist!” I was firm in my voice. 

He looked at me and said, “Can you prove that she used any racist words or phrases?”

“Racism has no face Mr.Y and I’m sure you know that. I entered your school for its academic brilliance and it didn’t matter to me if all your staff was Indian. For I believe teachers are born with the passion to give. Of course education and training are important, but why would you assume that the candidate who walks into your school is needy and less informed because he/she does not come from the west?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry you feel that way!” 

I stood up to leave. “No Mr.Y, I’m sorry that you feel this way. My Resume clearly states my qualification and the fact that I carry both the Eastern and Western degrees. The very fact that I was cast off before being given a chance is proof enough that your school is an unhealthy place for my children. Thank you for your time.”

A week later I was called in by another school for an interview where the Director of the School, a lady and a complete stranger, delivered these words to me in confidence, “Before you are interviewed by the panel, I want you to know…There is a belief or rather myth in the Middle-East that Asian teachers don’t possess the capabilities to match their western counterparts. Today I want you to break this myth! Your resume is impressive and your confidence is promising. Speak with confidence. I’m with you all the way!”

I had the best interview and was asked to join the school with much pride!