For the purposes of this blog, I have chosen to rewrite the selected fragments in English and use past instead of present tense. I have also combined individual fragments into a coherent narrative. No modifications in content have been made.
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Classes began on September 4th. My uniform consisted of a pleaded mustard-colored skirt and a white blouse with buttons. I was no longer wearing the “pañoleta,” or neckerchief, of elementary school. Instead, an insignia that read “Che” was sown on the only pocket of my blouse.
There were no classes on the first day of school. That day we studied the biography of Simón Bolívar and learned the “reglamento escolar,” or the rules of the school. On that first day a provisional “Jefe de destacamento,” or President of the classroom, was also selected for each of the 12 to 13 groups in each grade. The “guide” teacher assigned to each group would ask those students that had served as “Jefe de destacamento” in elementary school to volunteer to take the new post.
For seventh-graders, classes did not begin until late September, after the period of “aprestamiento” ended. While this introduction period lasted, students spent most of their time in school taking diagnostic tests in all the main subjects (Spanish Language, Mathematics, Ancient and Medieval History, Biology, Geography, Music and English). There were also diagnostic tests on the knowledge of “símbolos patrios,” on spelling, and on physical education. The Math Olympiad was also held during the first week. Three winners would be chosen from the school to compete at the “consejo popular” level, and later at municipal, provincial, national and even international levels.
When classes finally began, they met in the afternoon. In Biology, we were paying special attention to alcoholism and addictions in general, and in Mathematics, we studied Algebra as well as Geometry, especially the properties of angles. I received the most rigorous instruction in Mathematics at the review sessions organized by the municipal board of education for students who had qualified to attend the provincial Math Olympiad. These were intense three-hour drills that included taking exams from past Olympiads.
Aside from classes and Math review sessions, most days of the week I would be required to attend special morning sessions such as the viewing of a weekly audiovisual program about art, national symbols, sexuality in adolescence, and places of interest. Other special sessions were dedicated to the life of José Martí, to the cleaning of the school, or to those classes that did not meet daily such as Physical Education, Library Methodology, Values and Basic Drawing.
The morning was also the time to participate in extracurricular activities. Middle schools had chapters of national “círculos de interés” or pre-professional student organizations that ranged from gastronomy to scientific research to nursing. I was a member of the círculo de interés of pedagogy and in the mornings I would visit my old elementary school to help former teachers with grading. I was also in the school’s track team and during the first weeks of school, I was selected “Jefa de exploración y campismo” of my group. This position required me to prepare my group for participation in “acampadas,” or one-night trips to a nearby camping area where we learned different types of fires and knots and took tests on all skills learned. These tests were serious, as their results could affect our evaluation at the monthly “chequeos de emulación.” But acampadas were also an opportunity to stay up all night dancing and playing domino.
Throughout the year, the school also held numerous essay and drawing contests with topics such as “Aspiring to belong to the Unión de Jóvenes Comunistas (UJC)” or “Leer a Martí.” There was also a “batallón de ceremonias,” or marching guard, of which I was “Jefa de pelotón,” or Chief of squad in the frequent marching competitions.
Many activities took place outside of the school. On September 28th, students participated in the annual “guardia pioneril” to commemorate the anniversary of the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution (CDR). Around eight PM, we would leave our houses wearing our uniforms and join the rest of the block in festivities celebrating the labor of vigilance of the CDR. We also participated in regular demonstrations at the anti-imperialist tribune built in front of the US Interests Section. Marches were organized in response to an event such as the death of two Cubans in the seas as they escaped to Miami, or as a form of national celebration on José Martí’s birthday. On the days these marches were scheduled, we would arrive in school around six AM, and leave in buses sometimes not until a few hours later. Schools of the same municipality would march together, though students usually left early to sit on the seawall of the nearby Malecón. Attendance to guardias pioneriles and demonstrations also counted toward our evaluation at the chequeos de emulación.
Elections for the “colectivo,” or student government, were a long process that began early in the year, with the selection of 13 pre-candidates. The school staff would eliminate five of these, and the autobiographies of the remaining eight would be posted on the school murals. All students were required to participate in the final voting process, and results were announced at the school party in celebration of the National Day of Culture. I was very surprised to be chosen President of Student Government in my first year of middle school. From then on, I had to preside over the daily “matutino,” a ceremony held as soon as students arrived in school. From a platform, I would formally initiate the matutino with the order “colectivo, firme,” followed by the order to raise the flag and sing the national anthem. During the ceremony, a student from a different group each day had to recite the “inmediatez de la noticia,” a brief news report prepared by the school board. Announcements on school activities would follow, before groups left to their respective classrooms in orderly lines.
My responsibilities as President included directing meetings with the rest of the colectivo and with jefes de destacamentos. I then would present the agreements drafted at these meetings to the school administration at the Consejos populares. One agreement, for example, was to have a policeman permanently outside of the school in order to keep the “elemento,” or delinquents, away. I would also receive special invitations to attend meetings with other Presidents of colectivos from other schools in the municipality, to Asambleas del poder popular and to the third national Congreso Pioneril. As President, I also had to supervise the collection of raw materials and of donations to the Milicias de Tropas Territoriales (MTT), and participate in special events like a reunion with the students from the International School of Sports, where I sat next to students from Haiti and Congo.
My responsibilities as President required that I miss class frequently. I could suddenly be called to an extraordinary Consejo de dirección, or a teacher would call me and ask for help with class discipline. In general, however, missing class was normal. Classes were stopped if fumigations were scheduled as part of the campaign to combat the outbreak of dengue fever. Students that participated in “brigadas de rescate” also frequently missed the first class of the day. These brigades were designed to counteract poor attendance and tardiness to school. After the matutino was over, the brigadas de rescate were sent around the neighborhood in search for students who had not been present for this ceremony, with the mission to bring them to school.
That year, for the first time in my life, I was not selected as “destacada,” or outstanding, in a chequeo de emulación. My guide teacher said I was not sufficiently integrated in the colectivo or in the school activities in general. I thought the chequeo had been unfair, and asked my mom to complain to the school. My father could not come, as he had left the country a few weeks before. In the end, the school administration agreed with my mom, and I was finally selected “destacada.” At that time, I decided to quit the presidency of the colectivo, but I was told I was not allowed to quit.
What a great, long comment about this school experience in Cuba!
ReplyDeleteThere are some continuities. I attended a prerevolutionary private school yet some of the "military" themes noted in Maria Carla's blog had existed before. In my school, all boys, we wore school uniforms. The school kids were distributed across "divisions" and the student leader of each division was called a "brigadier." We learned to march as if we were in a military school. I was never particularly good at marching though I was the brigadier in the sixth division (littled kids) and again in the third division (middle school).
The most notable difference, from a kid's perspective, between Maria Carla's and my experience is that I never went camping in primary or middle school because the insurrection was under way. I went camping for the first time only after I was married and in the United States.
Jorge Dominguez
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