1. I am a privileged Mexican-American, and as such that means that my ancestors have played the part of both oppressor and oppressed. My ancestors were both the Aztecs and Yaquis who had their homes pillaged and plundered as well as the Spanish and Basque conquistadors who did the pillaging and plundering. My father is an immigrant who wasn't granted US citizenship until I was 9, yet I was raised in the lower-middle class suburbs of Los Angeles. I grew up not knowing Spanish, barely learning about Mexico, and with all of the things which almost define the suburban US for me (materialism, image-consciousness, near-crippling credit card debt, parochial schools, etc). Because I don't know Spanish, a lot of Mexicans don't consider me really Mexican. Yet, I can never (nor would I ever want to) call myself white. I'm proud of being Mexican, but I can't begin to tell you how many times I've heard white friends tell me (completely innocently) "Oh Matt, you're not really Mexican" (which I guess means that if there were a magazine called Assimilation Weekly, I would probably make the cover). Basically, if Ivan Illich ever met me, he'd probably not have great things to say.
2. This leads to my place as a teacher traveling to a middle income, formerly colonized nation. Ashcroft, Griffiths, and Tiffin say that "Education, whether state or missionary, primary or secondary was a massive canon in the artillery of empire". What?! I thought education was just a way to improve social mobility and help kids escape poverty and stuff! Nope. Really, education, no matter which way you slice it and no matter what is being taught, is a way to brainwash and is ultimately "a vital technology of social control" (AG&T). Every successful colonist has known this: missionaries taught people that they needed Jesus and thus introduced (and more often forced with penalty of death) a completely foreign belief system to colonized folks, British colonial administrators taught English lit as a way to not only make people feel a little more English and a part of the empire but also as a way to make subjects believe that they were intellectually inferior to the Brits. Every good colonist knows that the way you keep a people subjugated isn't with military force or trade monopolies, but by brainwashing people to think that they want to be colonized, that colonization is the best possible option. To their credit, the missionaries honestly believed that they were saving souls from eternal hellfire, but that's where you get into intentionality.
And here I am, a well intentioned young Mexican-American intern from the US hoping to help Belizean schoolchildren write a little better. I come to Belize with the same intentions as the most innocent of missionaries and colonizers. But, as AG&T say "education is perhaps the the most insidious and in some ways the most cryptic of colonialist survivals". The language I will be teaching is not the native language of Belize, it is the language of the negligent colonist. Yet, we can't just magically pretend that the British were never there because the mestizos, Kriols, and Garinagu are all products of colonization and have established a place in Belizean society under what Lamming calls "the fragmentary nature of the different cultures which have fused to make something new". And what of the Maya, who have had their homelands stripped from their control? I will be teaching English because it is the language that brings all of these colonized peoples together. I'll be teaching English because it's the only language I know.
I am of the opinion that good intentions don't count for much. People with good intentions (like shouldering the so-called "white man's burden" because the "heathens" aren't "civilized" enough to rule themselves) have had a lot of bad results in history (like stealing millions of people's freedoms and making most of the world dependent on the West for centuries). Ivan Illich would say that I will merely continue this pattern and am mostly just a poster boy for US prosperity and materialism by flaunting to Belizeans that I have the privilege of traveling the world on a whim. That assessment is entirely true, and I won't even try to refute it. I know that my upcoming visit will inherently have both positive and negative consequences. I know that Belize depends heavily on money from the US, but I hope that I am able to contribute in any way toward more Belizean independence. I just hope that in my upcoming months in Belize, that I am able to outweigh the negative effects of my simply being there by simply being there: listening to people, being culturally sensitive, and being open to all of my experiences.