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Summary
U.S. banana companies have a long history in Honduras. Their historical involvement in providing education has shaped some of the ways in which the Honduran education system developed, particularly along the north coast.
Today, we speak with Kate Kedley, a professor and activist about her long relationship with Honduras, including her interesting insights into a range of issues including english education, employment, globalization, the banana campos, and adoption
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Transcript
Karen Spring:
Time has run out for the ex-President of Honduras. On February 14, the Honduran Minister of Foreign Affairs received an extradition request for Juan Orlando Hernández. The long anticipated request was sent from the New York Southern District Court. And it asked for JOH’s arrest and extradition to the United States to stand trial for drug trafficking and weapons charges.
Welcome to the Honduras Now podcast. This podcast shares human rights stories from Honduras and connects them with global issues and North American policy. I’m your host, Karen Spring, a longtime human rights activist that has lived in Honduras for over a decade. Thanks so much for listening.
The following day on February 15, Juan Orlando Hernández was arrested in front of his home in Tegucigalpa and taken into custody. He remains in detention to date inside the special forces police base in the capital city. Despite what some might think, he has not yet been extradited to the United States, and he’s still in Honduras. The fight to stop his extradition from Honduras is far from over. His next legal hearing in front of a Honduran judge is March 16. I just don’t believe that JOH, his family, and all the powerful people that could or fear going down with him will make this extradition process easy. JOH’s arrest has received coverage from media all around the world. Since this case will play out over the next few weeks before JOH will be sent to the United States, I’ve decided to hold out a bit on dedicating an episode to JOH’s extradition. The arrest is the first step. But I feel like there’s still more to come.
Now with all these exciting things happening in Honduras, with a new government and with Juan Orlando Hernández’s arrest, I think it’s important to shift gears a little bit. Despite the apparent US support for the new government, led by President Xiomara, the longstanding role of the United States in Honduras still stands. It’s a really good moment right now to look at the bigger picture.
Today, I’m excited to share an interview I did with a US-based professor, Kate Kedley, who has spent a lot of time in Honduras and has traveled back and forth from the US for over 15 years. Kate Kedley is an assistant professor in the Department of Language, Literacy, and Sociocultural Education at Rowan University.
Kate has an interesting analysis about teaching English in Honduras, and also an interesting perspective on the historical and lasting effects of US banana companies. When she’s not traveling or teaching, Kate serves as an expert witness for asylum cases in the United States. She’s a member of the LGBTQ community, and supports these communities and movements in the US and in Central America. Without further ado, here is my interview with Kate.
Kate, it’s an honor to have you. Welcome to the show. I’ve been wanting to have you on here for so long. You have such an interesting perspective about Honduras, with your life experiences, and with your studies. You travel back and forth to Honduras from the United States, and you have for so many years. So one of the first things I wanted to ask you is, because you are between two worlds, I wanted to ask you, when talking with people in the United States who aren’t familiar with Honduras, what is it that most surprises them about the country? What have you found?
Kate Kedley:
So one of the things I feel like always happens when I talk about, with students, because I’m a teacher, or with people just out on the street, is they’ve either heard nothing about Honduras, they don’t know where it is, they think it’s a state in Mexico, they’re not sure, they know literally nothing, or they’ve heard like, kind of the opposite, that they’ve only heard about the violence or that there’s gangs, sometimes they’ve heard of the migrant caravans but don’t often make that connection. So there’s not a lot of nuance in what they’ve heard about it. Once in a while, I hear people say that they’ve been scuba diving in Honduras, you know, in Roatán or Utila. So I would say that’s what is surprising to me.
And then when we start talking about it, and like how, I talk with my students a lot about how relevant Honduras is to their lives, even though they don’t see it. So I always say like, you know, check your T-shirts, where was it made? And, you know, there’s always someone who’s whose T-shirt was made in Honduras, or will look at the paper and look at immigration laws. And so people who aren’t familiar with Honduras often don’t know their own connection with it.
Karen Spring:
And I know that you have a lot of these discussions probably with people in your life, you know, in your classrooms. So you did your PhD in English education in Honduras. When you were doing your PhD, what did you learn about the privatization of education in Honduras? And also the role of English language instruction here?
Kate Kedley:
Sure. So one of the things that I learned about the privatization was that it’s definitely not a new thing in Honduras. And it’s definitely not a new thing globally. It’s part of a larger neoliberal push in the whole world to privatize things, to free it, things like education or health or water from a really regulated market. And in Honduras, which I guess I would have known, but it took kind of a second to put it all together, that privatization is not new at all. So if you think back 100 plus years, there’s been banana companies that were giant private entities. They had the banana enclaves, they call it, on the north coast. Since the late 80s and 90s, there’s been a lot of maquilas, just private industry and free trade zones to move products and things like that.
And so I remember I was interviewing a teacher from the banana campos, she grew up in the banana campos, and now is a public school teacher, but she said that a lot of times she meets with international organizations and people that say, Oh, you don’t understand why public education doesn’t work. You don’t understand the privatization of education. You don’t understand why that’s good. You don’t understand globalization. And I remember, she was probably 60 years old, she said, she pointed at me and she said, They say I don’t understand globalization. But I grew up in the banana camp schools, which are privately owned banana camp schools. And every day we had a Lipton iced tea for a snack and a cracker jacks. And now when I go into the store, I look for that. And so they say, I don’t understand globalization. But I was affected by that, you know, as a five year old, as a six year old, with these international private companies coming in and putting schools, then giving their products to me, and I’m, like, addicted to Cracker Jacks.
And so I thought that was a really good example of how this is not a new phenomenon, right? Like the the privatization of schools in Honduras is not new. So I kind of began to see, I mean, this is definitely not something unique to Honduras, but the idea that the state would be released from responsibility of providing education in Honduras is going on for a long time.
There’s an area on the north coast that I found out in my dissertation that the banana company, the workers have fought for public schools for a long time. And they had built hundreds of schools, the banana companies, these are privately run banana company schools for people in all levels of the banana company, workers to management to executives. And then after Hurricane Mitch, which I think was, what, 1998?, they pulled out, the banana company did, because they weren’t making money. And then they left this huge void, where there’d been really good education for decades, privately given through the banana company, they left, and then all of a sudden there’s this void, right? The government has never been forced to provide education and provide teachers, provide materials. And so you know, the government just never had to do it. It was always private.
So this is definitely not a new phenomenon, I would say the new phenomenon is, you know, sometimes involves English, it often involves the cooperation of the upper classes in Honduras, with with private schools for their own kids or private schools to make money as a business instead of like, a right for all citizens. So I think that’s what I learned about, about how it was this long process, not something that was newer, which I think is what I thought.
Karen Spring:
So you mentioned that, I want to tease out a little bit more about the role of banana companies and their presence in Honduras. And I think it’s something that comes so natural to you because you’ve studied it, but for people that have no concept of what exactly, how do these banana enclaves work? How do these banana campos work? Why were there schools that they were providing? Who were going to these schools? Can you go back to the basics in that, and just explain for someone that might have no concept of what exactly the presence of banana companies were in Honduras in relation to education?
Kate Kedley:
Sure, the banana companies have been in Honduras for over a century. And when they got there, it was, you know, just a company that came and was exporting bananas, right, and harvesting and exporting bananas. And, little by little, they kind of started I don’t know, I don’t want to say taking over, but in some sense it’s taking over the entire north coast, which is around El Progreso, La Ceiba, La Lima, Tela, in that they owned, like, all the land and they controlled the daily aspects of nearly everyone’s life.
So everybody was involved with the banana companies either as a hired worker, you know, a banana cutter, or management. The women were often cooking or washing clothes, maybe not paid for by the company, but, you know, paid by workers and things, and so every aspect of daily life was, you know, organized by the banana company. They would build a soccer field in every town, they would build, you know, a bar or a bowling alley, or, you know, all this stuff. And many of the executives were from North America. So they always talk about flour tortillas on the north coast of Honduras. That’s because the banana companies brought flour as opposed to the rest of, most of Central America, which makes corn tortillas, right? So that is that relationship, historically.
In 1954, the banana workers had a huge strike that kind of changed the labor history of Honduras, or really affected it. And a lot of the demands were related to education for the children of workers and access to school, maybe beyond sixth grade. And so not all of these were won in the strike. But as time went on, that was still kind of a major point that the workers wanted, they wanted access to schools for their children.
And so in many of the banana camps, these are like, kind of like little farms where there’d be like a circle of houses where there’d be a manager, and maybe some workers or they would share houses, or they would, you know, live out kind of in the campo, the field, and then they would build a school, and they would pay for a teacher to come to that school. And the banana company would pay for the materials in that school, and the paper and the tape and the pencils and the desks and stuff. And a lot of people look on this period, let’s say the 70s and 80s, as kind of like a glory years of education. I’ve talked to a lot of people who went to those schools, and were even taught in them. And it’s like, oh, we always had materials from La Tela, la compañía, you know, they had all of this stuff. So they controlled or somehow affected nearly every aspect of life.
I also talked to kind of management people where they would say, you know, at Christmas, the company would bring all of us a Christmas tree. And at such and such a day, they would all do this, and talked to people who worked in the banana camps and, you know, every year they would get like a turkey or some sort of chicken for a meal or whatever.
But with environmental changes and hurricanes and weather, Chiquita Banana stopped making money in the way that they wanted to, or United Fruit Company is actually what it’s called. And so in the 90s, they started pulling out, pulling out, pulling out. They sold the land, or they started kind of subletting it for other companies to use. And they decided not to run those schools anymore. So that’s what I mean is that they had set up this essentially like a banana enclave, it was like a city or a country run by Chiquita Banana. But as soon as they didn’t, you know, weren’t making the money or the profits that they wanted, they kind of washed their hands of it. And that’s how they left that void there.
Karen Spring:
So basically, I mean, I know that there were some schools that were more for, like, executives and, like, North American executives, where they would send their kids. Because they would come from the United States, you know, as employees of these US-owned banana companies, and then they would go to these schools. So are there some schools that are private schools around the banana area of Tela, La Lima, El Progreso, that are more for wealthier children that are, or with the banana companies that left, where the executives used to send their kids, and then, like, other types of schools that were part of the banana company, but that are more for the working class and employees of the banana company?
Kate Kedley:
Sure, yeah, and the schools for the executives’s kids and the North Americans’s kids actually date quite a bit further back to the 1920s and the 1930s. So prior to that strike, because you’re not going to get, Chiquita knew they’re not going to get a North American family to move to Honduras unless they can live in a place where they can get US-style education, where they can get access to US colleges, where they can get, you know, a swimming pool and a bowling alley and a club and etc. And so in Tela, in La Ceiba, in La Lima, there were these places called American zones, la zona americana, and each of them had a school that was usually staffed by English-speaking North Americans, probably the wives of, you know, Chiquita Banana executives, or people from North America, or other English speaking people, that you would get, essentially, a high school diploma. Same thing has happened to those, I mean, Chiquita Banana no longer runs any of them. They were sold privately to different places that still run them as private schools where students can get the equivalent of a North American or European high school diploma and go to college in the United States. So that’s a difference from those banana campo schools, which were more for children of Honduran workers who worked in the fields as opposed to North American executives’s children. I think that the North American executive schools were integrated with Hondurans maybe in the 60s or 70s, where Honduran kids could go, there was a lot of mixed families, there was a lot of Hondurans who had moved up into executive positions. So yeah, that’s kind of the history of those two types of schools, but they’re from the same banana company, but were not exactly the same.
Karen Spring:
So with those shifts in education related to the presence of the banana companies, how has English instruction or the focus of English instruction changed over time? And why is there a big focus on it now? How is that different from what it was back then?
Kate Kedley:
Yeah, so this is something I was also kind of surprised to learn. I knew there was a push for English education, but I wanted to learn the nuances. And I think, you know, in the decades ago with the banana companies, the banana campo schools would not have taught English education. They would have had Honduran teachers, they would have had Honduran-trained teachers, and their students wouldn’t necessarily learn English. And then the executive school would be, you know, English and Spanish, probably. But it would also prepare students to go to college in New Orleans or St. Louis. I’ve met a ton of people who graduated from these schools in the 50s and 60s, and then went to Tulane or to somewhere in Florida for college, because they learned English as a child in the 50s and 60s. So again, not a new phenomenon, that English existed as part of education there.
Now, English is often sold as a reason, like, Oh, if they speak English, they don’t have to migrate, right? They can stay in Honduras, and they can work at a maquila, which is a sweatshop, or they can work at a call center, like a telemarketing place, they don’t have to migrate, when in the past it was more like you could have access to the US education system. Now it’s more to make people want to stay, supposedly. And a lot of educators in Honduras would tell me, Honduran educators, would say, I was surprised because many of them said, you know, we do need to learn English, like, we can’t compete in any type of global situation, like our students should be bilingual or trilingual, they should learn Spanish, English, and then an Indigenous language like Garífuna or Tol or something, but that it just didn’t take the second place to a critical education.
So now I think a lot of the English private schools there, I mean, I went to many of them, they barely teach English, and they’re definitely not teaching like math, or reading, or whatever. But because it’s an English school, you know, parents are desperate, they think that that’s the way that their kid is going to be able to get a good job is by speaking English. And so I think that’s probably the shift is that it’s more of like a non-education, instead of, you know, a solid education, which could be, I mean, English education is not bad inherently, it can be a very good education, in the English language, but that’s not really what was happening.
Karen Spring:
That’s really interesting, because it’s sort of, they’re saying it’s a reason to not migrate. If you learn English, then you won’t have to migrate. But that means that you, I guess, it’s a skill that you can use to get the jobs that you were talking about. Did you ever talk to anybody that had actually gone to school, learned English, and then had gone to get some of these jobs that are for English-speaking Hondurans?
Kate Kedley:
Yeah, actually, I know a lot of people that work in call centers or in maquilas, and have gotten, I would say, better paying jobs because of their access to English, or maybe they’ve gotten jobs in tourism or something, you know, that they can speak English.
But I felt like there was a disconnect between what a lot of the teachers thought and what a lot of the students or the families thought. So, and I’m talking about two different groups of teachers here, right? So one would be like North American people, who are speakers of English, who come to Honduras to teach in a private school or it’s like, as a job, teaching in a foreign country, or as missionaries or whatever. And then there’s also Hondurans who speak English who work in these schools.
But the North Americans were frequently telling me, yeah, I’m here because I really want to help these kids stay here, like they can get a job at that maquila across the street or the sweatshop across the street, whatever, and then they don’t have to migrate, so I’m, like, helping them be better, and etc. And I remember all these teachers told me that. When I went outside, and I was kind of standing by the gate of the school, and there was a lot of moms there, and I said, Oh, your kids go here, like, how come you want them to learn English? And they were like, as soon as my kids learn English, I’m sending them north! I was like, Oh, okay, like you guys have not talked yet. Because it was like a disconnect in what I guess they each thought the English would be for, right?
Karen Spring:
I think it’s really interesting how English language is promoted so much to get these so-called better jobs. But then, are they really better jobs? Yes, they’re like jobs that are, you would make more money if you were working in some other field in Honduras, but the quality of the job, you know, the working conditions, and that kind of thing. You know, it’s kind of like, I guess that’s a whole other topic, but it brings up a lot of questions.
Kate Kedley:
Yeah, I will, and I wanted to add something about, like English, and if it actually gets people better jobs, because when I got to Honduras, and I had already been in Honduras for years and years and years, but when I was doing my dissertation, I remember there was a couple times where someone would say, like, Oh, my cousin’s getting deported from the United States. They’ve been there since they were four. They’re 20 now, but, oh, you know, he’ll get a job so easy because he speaks English, or she’ll get a job so easy because they speak English. And that was not the case.
Like this one guy is a cousin of the family I was staying with, Tonio, which is his name, and he came back and he spoke English unaccented, in a North American accent, like I do. But he had tattoos on his fingers, and he did not know how to use a computer. And so he tried to get a job at the airport, and they said no, see the tattoos. And he tried to get a job at a call center to do telemarketing, but he didn’t know how to use a computer. And so, was it really English that was gonna get him this job? No, it was not, right?
And I also remember, so at the local public school where I was staying, they asked me to come in, like once a day, and do mini English lessons for four fifth grade classes. And it was fun, we would just do body parts and play Simon Says, and then we would learn animals, and whatever. And it turned into kind of this scene where the parents would come and be sticking their heads through the open air windows into the classroom. And I remember one time I was saying, okay, ¿cómo se llama ratón? How do you say, you know, the word for “mouse” in English? And the kids are like, kind of stumped. And they’re all like thinking, and a bunch of the parents outside were like, it’s like Mickey, it’s like Mickey, in perfect English, right? And then afterwards, I said, Oh, you know, where’d you learn? Oh, I lived the United States for 20 years. Like, oh, well, you know, that has not necessarily helped their situation.
It’s a lot of Where did you learn the English? Do you have tattoos that, like, negate your English? Do you know how to use a computer? You know, a lot of people think like, oh, English education, but it’s so highly connected to where you’re able to learn English, if you learn it in the United States as an undocumented person and then become deported, it’s not going to count as much as if you learned it at a private school where you paid a lot of money. So English education is not this, like I speak English, now I will get a better job. There’s a lot of kind of other barriers and things that intersect with that to make things possible or not possible.
Karen Spring:
So this is kind of a really good moment to get into. How did you first go to Honduras? How did that process, and when you showed up in Honduras, when you started going there, when you started traveling there, how did that process change your perspective about your role in the country as a foreigner?
Kate Kedley:
Yeah, so I was a high school English teacher for a long time in the United States, and have a bachelor’s degree in English education. And I remember I had heard about international teaching, so I went to an international teaching career fair, where there was like 220 schools from across the world, the Philippines, Kazakhstan, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Brazil, whatever. And I remember I had like 15 interviews, and I had four job offers. One was Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Honduras, I can’t remember the fourth one. And I picked Honduras completely randomly. I had never been to Latin America before. I spoke, I would say, little to no Spanish. And I thought this was going to be like a cool like adventure for me and my kids and whatever.
So I got a job at what was formerly the Chiquita Banana American school. Like, at that time, it was privatized, and someone else was running it, but it was like very proud banana school. And I was working with families that were in a very different socioeconomic class than, like, the people I’ve interacted with since but, you know, they had condos in Miami, or they might fly to Italy for a week to buy their prom shoes or something. And, you know, that’s who I worked with.
And I remember for the first year or so, there was kind of a sense about all of us that we were there, like, helping Honduras, right? And I ran into a public school teacher once and they were like, you know, who are you kidding? And I had never felt this, like, disrespect, right, that was kind of directed to North Americans, because that’s not what I had been experiencing at this international School.
And so, in the meantime, I also played on a women’s basketball team. And I was a member of an LGBT group in San Pedro Sula. And I had gotten to know some families in Honduras that were not part of the school. And you know, they started, once I got to know them, I felt like there was a lot more critique about my role in Honduras. And so people would say, like, I mean, yeah, I know, you think you’re helping Honduras, but like you’re not. Or whatever, like, you’re gonna leave in two years. So like, what do you think you were doing here? We like you, you’re nice, but you’re not actually helping us. And so that was something that, like when that public school teacher said that to me, it really challenged me to think about, like, okay, what was I doing in Honduras? And then I ended up writing a dissertation kind of critiquing that international school environment.
Karen Spring:
And so then you stayed in Honduras, you kept traveling to Honduras, that didn’t discourage you at all, like you just kept going back and back and back as you were going through this process. And then now you have a really special connection to Honduras through your family. Can you tell me a little bit about that?
Kate Kedley:
Sure. So I did keep going back and I remember when I, I lived there for three years to teach at this school, and I remember thinking that, like, I had made too many decisions that had benefited me in Honduras, you know, like I had this really great teaching job and all these adventures and I’d been learning Spanish and whatever, that it was too late to just think of this as this three-year pass that I made through Honduras and never go back again.
And I had become acquainted with the family, with Elsa is the name of the woman who was the nanny for my young children. And I started going back and staying with her. And she, at the time had a 12-year-old boy, who’s 27 years old now. And I had said, like, how do you want to continue our relationships? I don’t want you to think that I’m leaving, you know, I’ve been your employer and your friend for three years, I’m not just leaving and I’ll never see you again. Because I think that was pretty common, right, that’s what North Americans do. And we had talked about a number of things like, you know, we’d just keep paying her salary, and she would do different things, or, you know, whatever. And in the end, she asked if it would be possible if her son, who was 12, I mean, he was a little older by then, but could come to the United States, because it was right after the coup in 2009. And she was worried about his schooling and safety and things like that. And so he came here on an unaccompanied minor visa, which is an asylum visa, and then I have guardianship of him, or I have had for the last 11 years. And so that’s my first connection.
And my second is my partner is someone I’ve known for 15 years in Honduras, part of the LGBTQ community. I met her in 2006. And she’s also applying for asylum in the United States. So those are my personal connections. And I go back yearly, if not twice a year, and stay with my family there, my chosen family there.
Karen Spring:
Can you share what some of the important lessons that you’ve drawn from your experiences of helping to raise a child that is, you know, whose origins are in Honduras and he’s from Honduras?
Kate Kedley:
Yeah, sure. So like, one of the things that I often preface, I mean, it’s sometimes uncomfortable for me to talk about it, because in the United States it’s often seen as this, like, morally pure decision that I made. It’s way more complicated, and definitely not morally pure or ethically pure decision that we collectively, you know, tried to make. Because I have, you know, a lot of power and financial advantage in this situation.
And so, I think that’s one of the things that, like, I always think that I’ve learned a lot was how difficult it was, and who did I learn this from? Like, other Hondurans, including Boris, is my child and Elsa, his mother, who I mean, you know, kind of have kept me on my toes about it. I have had teachers that said in Honduras, public school teachers that say like, Oh, do you think it was a good idea to take a child from his homeland and raise him in a place that exploits his homeland? And how do I explain that? Like, no, in retrospect, that was not the good decision. Would I do it again? Yeah, maybe? No, maybe? I don’t know. Like, it’s, it’s all kind of dependent on what is happening in that moment. I’ve had other people say, you know, because I like to think of myself as supportive to the revolutionary groups in Honduras, and people in the resistance movements have said to me, you know, you think you’re a radical, you actually, like, took one of our children, who could have grown up and, like, contributed here. And so like, that’s not always easy to hear, right? But like, you need it to keep you in check, right? Like, I need that. And I need to hear that, to remember that this is not a moral morally pure decision. It’s based on a really complicated dynamic that’s in complete imbalance, right?
He does have a college degree now. He is bilingual. He’s a social worker, he lives in the United States. He makes way more money than he ever could in Honduras. Is that the result that we hoped for? I don’t know. Is that the best result?
So, I don’t know, what have I learned about it? Like, ignoring all the aspects of parenting, and being a child, right, like all the dynamics we dealt with, with girlfriends, and staying out too late, and homework, and things like that. This is more like these ideological issues that we face. And I think one thing that I maybe have done well, you’ll have to ask Boris about it, I guess, is Boris and I have been really open about it. You know, like I have said to him, like the reason you’re here is not because I’m a good person, or because I’m sharing my money with you or whatever. The reason you’re here is because there’s a really difficult global imbalance between our countries, and I have the financial means to no, like, responsibility of my own hard work and you don’t, to no responsibility to you or your parents or whatever.
And so we’re in this situation and we talk about it, and he has not always necessarily said I did the right thing. I don’t think I’ve always said I’ve done the right thing. And I’ve tried to keep him, I mean, he’s very aware of what’s going on in Honduras, and he’s, you know, wants to, I think, know about it, and help and support Hondurans. He goes back to Honduras a couple times a year. It was hard, especially when he was a teenager, because, you know, there’s this idea of the American Dream and everybody has an iPhone, and everybody has new Jordans, and everybody has a Mohawk and their ears pierced and all of this stuff. But I think as he got older and matured a little bit, I think he started to see, like, the reason he was here getting Jordans and an iPhone and living with me was, you know, complicated, right? And not necessarily all from a good spot.
Does that answer that?
Karen Spring:
Yeah, it does, and it actually answers my next question I was gonna ask you, because unpacking your privilege and the work that you do in Honduras, but also like parenting. And I think that that’s a common criticism that can be levied against people that come from an imperialist country that are not Honduran. And so I really admire that you don’t let that paralyze you, that criticism. I really admire you for that.
Is there anything else that you wanted to mention that I might not have asked you?
Kate Kedley:
Yeah, I guess along those lines, I do have, like, multiple relationships with Honduras, like you said, as an academic, as a teacher, as a family person, you know, as a traveler and an initial adventurer, I suppose. And I think that it is often hard to remember to maintain those. I think it’s really easy for people who get PhDs, or volunteer, or do mission work in a different country, to be like, Oh my God, like, wow, that experience really changed my life! And now I’m going to go back to United States and, you know, get my job, and buy my house, and buy my car, and have my kids, and, like, just talk for the next 40 years about that summer I spent in Honduras, or the fieldwork I did in Honduras.
And so, sometimes it’s hard to remember, especially when you get back to United States, and you get into kind of the daily grind, it’s hard to remember the complications that are going on in Honduras. And so, sometimes I have to force myself, like, okay, figure out what’s going on there, figure like, stay on top of it, stay on top of it. Because it’s so easy to get caught up in the life here, and just kind of wash your hands of it. I mean, I think it’s designed that way, right? That we don’t have to think about who’s making our shirts and where these migrant caravans are coming from, and why people are here asking for asylum. So, in that sense, I think I have to work really hard, and I’m not always successful at, like, maintaining those relationships, and understanding all the time.
I also need to remember that the benefit has mostly come to me out of this relationship. I mean, you could say, yeah, of course, Boris got a college degree, or maybe my research is helping bring knowledge or whatever. But like the amount of, I mean, I’m on a podcast talking about it, right? Like the amount of attention I have gotten for that, or the amount of clout, I guess, diversity points, if you will, in doing this stuff, it’s easy to get kind of sucked up in it, and to forget about, like, okay, you still have to maintain and do this work, and do the sweat, and do the grunt work, and do the things that people are not going to notice. Because I’m benefiting from this. Like, the bottom line is, I have a huge benefit from it.
And I am, just like that one teacher told me, when I was doing field work in Tegucigalpa actually, I said, so what do you think of, you know, US researchers, whatever, and someone said, like, listen, you seem like a really nice person, we like you, you just need to know that we don’t need you. And that was like, ah, okay, okay. And so he said, if you’re gonna continue to do it, then you need to make sure that you’re doing it correctly, and you’re doing something that we can’t do on our own. Like, what do you bring as a North American, from your institution with possible funding outlets, or educational outlets, or attention, or whatever. Like, we don’t need you to do this here.
And you don’t have to be in Honduras to do it. Like, go do it in Iowa or Philadelphia or New Jersey or wherever you’re at.
And then the other thing that I always try to do, again, not easy, is, like, don’t be like a mono activist. Like, I know a lot of people who did their dissertation, and that is their thing for the rest of their life. And Honduras, like teaching in Honduras, or education in Honduras, or English education in Honduras is a big deal. But like the migrant caravans and the immigration here, not just for Hondurans, not just for Central Americans, but, like, globally, the way that we treat migrants or refugees, the way that we cause migration and refugees all over the world. LGBT issues, not just here in my own community, but globally. Etc. Like, these are things that are all connected, and I think it gets really easy to kind of forget, or only focus, I should say it, like, uber focus on one issue. Oh, education in Honduras, that’s my wheelhouse. No, like, there are other things that I need to support and show up for that might seem unrelated, but are truly interconnected all over.
Karen Spring:
Just to close down, if people wanted to find your work, or find what you’re putting out, where can they go to do that? And also, what is the title of your dissertation, in case people that are listening are interested in looking that up as well?
Kate Kedley:
Sure. So you could look me up on the Rowan University website. [Her page there is here.] My email is kedley@rowan.edu. Or I’m on Twitter and Facebook. And I publish frequently about issues related to Central America, Honduras, and education. And then my dissertation, if you wanted to look it up, “English language education in Honduras: opportunity, adventure, or empire?” That was the title.
Karen Spring:
Great. Thank you so much, Kate, for coming on the podcast. It’s really been an honor.
Kate Kedley:
It’s been great talking to you, Karen. Thank you.
Karen Spring:
That’s the episode for today. Thanks so much for listening. Please check out the show notes and the interview with Kate at HondurasNow.org.
The next episode will dive into the discussions about JOH’s extradition to the United States. I’ll also talk about where he’s being held, the conditions of his detention, and the efforts to push back and attempt to stop his extradition. Although many think it’s inevitable, I can’t help but think that JOH won’t go down this easy.
Until next time, I’m your host, Karen Spring. Thanks so much for joining me today, and hasta pronto.