Politics from the schoolyard level
Images of the “World Today” predominated our first quarter Social Studies classes. An aspect of the curriculum included the forms of government in the modern era. Of the single rulers, the monarchy rules from inherited power; dictatorship rules by taking power, often forcefully and violently. The rule of a few constitutes an oligarchy, and the rule of the many, “of the people, by the people and for the people,” is a democracy.
“What kind of government do we have in the CNMI?” I asked. Allison replied, “An oligarchy.” A few countered with the more formally accurate answer, “democracy.” But Allison had a point. The CNMI ruling class is an oligarchy. The voting population constitutes a minority of the islands’ population. A majority partakes of “taxation without representation.” Apportioning of representatives in the Legislature is by headcount of all residents, so technically, everyone is represented.
But not really. “We the People” is a purview of the few. The dominant local electorate tends to be clannish. Kinship is the blood artery of a political career.
Politicians pamper their voting constituency; the non-voters are just expected to go along. The latter’s input is null; politics as the activity of making communal decisions is often avoided. A couple of skilled professionals with three children (all island-born U.S. citizens), she and he, 29- and 24-year residents, respectively, remain categorized as alien contract workers. The man is heading south, Down Under turn left, to Kiwiland, where it is said that fresh fish is bountiful, the fruits abundant and vegetables plentiful. Wife and kids are following shortly.
Legal residency is immediately available to those who qualify even before they get there, and citizenship is an option within two years. Private ownership of real estate is not exclusive to a certain elite class. Yes, Allison, you definitely have a valid point about an oligarchy.
Just what kind of politics do we play? At the schoolyard level in San Vicente, we elected and installed four Student Council officers. With a 16-member council, two representatives from each homeroom of the two upper classes, plus four 5th and 6th grade-wide elected officers, we mirror a Commonwealth representative democracy.
We deviated a bit in the election by discouraging independents, asking candidates to file their candidacies by party. We parceled out qualifications: the governor and secretary/treasurer positions slated 6th graders, the lieutenant governor and the campus cop, the 5th graders. Four parties registered, coincidentally reflecting the same number of parties in the current Commonwealth election process. Not surprisingly, the candidates’ family names corresponded as well with names seen in posters by the road!
In the conduct of the campaign, allegations of ripping off campaign posters emerged very quickly; incidence reports on bad-mouthing members of contending parties followed closely. Though we encouraged campaigning by parties, posters reflected individual or paired emphasis.
A joint 5th-6th grade assembly was held to hear campaign speeches. A homeroom came in a “rally” mood, complete with a syncopated cheering routine. Of the governor candidates, one promised a nebulous “healthier and better year”; another, promised full and broad services to everyone. The other two got more specific. One vowed to make sure the bathrooms were going to be hygienic and tidy. The other declared that the withdrawing of recess as a disciplinary measure against students who transgress school protocol would be abolished. When queried further, the bathroom hygiene candidate committed personal time and effort during recess and lunch breaks to insure that the promise got implemented. The aspirant received a rousing applause for that response. As to how the other candidate was to make sure recess time became a right rather than a privilege, it was not as clear. On the whole, actions and behaviors turned out to be a reflection of the larger society.
A clear choice was made on all the officers save the top executive. Two vying office seekers were separated only by two votes. To the credit of the one who got less votes, no recount was requested. Both budding politicians sent out notices of gratitude to their supporters. Nice touch. However, the successful aspirant offered no humble request for the cooperation of the unsuccessful aspirants; inversely, no conciliatory offer to support the newly elected set of officers were made by those who did not pass muster. One non-favored candidate even threw an exclusive celebration party, by invitation only. As a microcosm of the society we live in, we were par for the course.
The reader will note that I avoided using the terms “winners” and “losers” to designate the status of post-election candidates. That’s because the whole context for the exercise was to point to elections as occasion for citizens, in this case, students, to offer their services to a general constituency, rather than as a racehorse among contentious parties. Apparently, this did not register with the children. Bragging rights were claimed, and sore losers allegedly stayed sour.
It did not take long before one of the officers was accused of conduct unbecoming of a leader. Talk of impeachment ensued. An offer of resignation was made under duress. In the end, the concerned officer had enough selfhood to apologize to fellow officers, and invite everyone to continue holding each other accountable for each others’ behavior, for the sake of providing exemplary leadership models. Now, as a microcosm, this latter part was above par for the course!
Politics in our school will remain an activity of facilitating group decisions, and empowering many students, not just a few—no privileged class here, Allison—to participate in implementing those decisions. Would that we could turn our microcosm into an example for the larger society to emulate!
Ah, I also have this bridge I want to sell you. This is how we are going to build it across the channel…
* * *
Vergara is a Social Studies 6th grade teacher at San Vicente Elementary School