School of Thought: When Global Politics Enters the Classroom

I often reflect on the invisible yet powerful forces that shape the classroom. While chalk, textbooks, and lesson plans may seem like the immediate concerns of education, the truth is that our schools are never insulated from the broader geo-political currents swirling around us. Today, those currents are particularly strong in the Caribbean.

The United States has ramped up its fight against narcotics trafficking through our region. At the same time, escalating tensions from Venezuela are creating uncertainty in our Caribbean neighborhood. These developments may seem far removed from a classroom in Dutch Quarter or Simpson Bay, but their ripple effects are very real.

When global powers flex their muscles in our region, the impact often lands hardest on small islands like ours. Military patrols, heightened security, and sudden changes in trade or immigration can directly affect the social environment our students grow up in. Children sense instability even when adults think they are shielding them. A father working in the harbor may come home anxious because of increased inspections. A mother reliant on affordable goods may suddenly face price hikes because shipping routes are disrupted. Students carry those stresses into the classroom.

The Caribbean has long been caught in the crossfire of drug trafficking. While law enforcement operations may disrupt supply lines, they often also drive traffickers to adapt and push deeper into vulnerable communities. For St. Maarten, this could mean an increase in local exposure to drugs, recruitment of our youth into dangerous networks, and even violence that spills into our neighborhoods. Teachers are left to deal with the consequences—children distracted, traumatized, or tempted by the lure of quick money in a world that glorifies risky shortcuts.

The uncertainty surrounding Venezuela is not just about politics; it is about migration, economics, and identity. Already, we have seen how economic collapse in one nation sends waves of migrants across the region. If tensions worsen, St. Maarten could face additional migration pressures. New students may arrive in our schools, sometimes with limited resources, language barriers, or trauma. While diversity enriches us, it also demands that our education system adapt rapidly to provide support. Teachers will once again be asked to do more with less.

Education has always been the frontline where societies prepare for the future. In times of geo-political tension, our classrooms are no less strategic than military bases. If the U.S. is fighting drugs in the skies and seas, then we are fighting ignorance, hopelessness, and susceptibility to crime within our schools. If Venezuela’s crisis creates migration flows, then our classrooms must become spaces of integration, compassion, and resilience.

As I write this, I cannot help but return to a truth I learned both in the classroom and in the union halls: education is the shield of the vulnerable. While the great powers debate strategy, and governments maneuver around political storms, it is the teacher who stands in front of the child, offering clarity, stability, and hope.

The geopolitical tensions in our region are real, but their impact on St. Maarten’s future will depend on how we prepare our children today. If we want them to stand tall in a turbulent world, then we must ensure our classrooms are not just places of instruction, but sanctuaries of resilience, critical thinking, and unity.

‍