I was in the office of the school I work at yesterday, trying to print something, when I got shanghied into figuring out how to adjust a microscope.

I feel it’s a great metaphor for my entire service so far: I start out with the intention to one thing, and the next thing I know, I’m doing something completely different.

More importantly, I think that it illustrates the attitudes that frustrate me so much in my quest to make a difference in the lives of my community.

Some of you may know that I’ve taken over teaching science to my 7th graders, and early on in the year, I expressed my frustration to my mother that the school didn’t have any equipment for the experiments outlined in the Science textbook. Apparently, it’s all been sitting in one of the cupboards, packed and utterly forgotten until one of the admin assistants took it upon himself to organize and assess all the unused books and teaching aids. Just sitting there!

(It should be noted that this seems to be a trend in many schools: my friend Alex teaches chemistry and bio at Calabar, one of the best boys high schools in the country. This past spring he related a similar story of finding boxes and boxes of brand-new lab equipment and a skeleton, just stashed somewhere and forgotten.)

As head-banging-against-the-wall frustrating as that experience was, it was, in a small, bizarre way, somewhat vindicating. I frequently worry that my inability to magically transform my service into a nauseatingly-smug list of success stories is a reflection on me, and that my reluctance to try and undertake a large project or secure grant funding are symptoms of a cynical deflection from my failings as a volunteer.

This story reminds me otherwise- that there is a certain…culture at work at the school, and I’m not talking about Jamaican culture in general, but more of a site-specific culture, about how the teachers, students, and goverment relate to and interact with each other that has absolutely nothing to do with me. Obviously, each school is different, but the general sense that I get here is one of stagnation and resignation.

This is a very broad brush with which to paint the situation, and I hope that the reader can appreciate that there are many exceptions to this, and while there are many wonderful teachers here who are making a huge impact in the lives of their students, it seems that on a collective level, everyone has thrown up their hands and thrown in the towel.

(Trying to articulate this accurately is incredibly difficult. I’m trying hard not to sound overtly negative, while clearly communicating to the reader something that is almost intangible.)

I have the extreme good fortune to work closely with a major exception to the rule, and she shared my frustration with the entire mess when I got back to the classroom, and confirmed my hunch. She and her sister have worked at CAAS for a few years, but the year before, her sister took a position teaching at a different school, and is finding it to be a much more positive environment.

So it’s not just me who is noticing these things, and it’s not up to me (nor is it possible) to change the prevailing culture of indifference. It really is a relief to know that that I’m right in suspecting that a large project isn’t going to get very far off the ground, or would be carried on after I left, that I’m not just being bitter or cynical.

Instead, yesterday gave me the gift of being able to accept that the most valuable thing I can do is just be there for the kids in whatever small ways I can. Science class twice a week, drawing class Monday afternoons for the 8th graders, Fridays for the 7th grade, and small reading pull-out groups. Nothing big. Nothing especially glorious to put on my resume, but I leave school each day feeling like maybe I did do a little something, and my time was not spent in futility. It’s hard to ask for much more than that.