When Classrooms Reflect Our Priorities
In St. Maarten, our schools have always been more than just buildings. They are safe spaces where children’s dreams take shape, where teachers nurture possibility, and where communities come together to build a shared future. So, when classrooms fall silent, not because of holidays or hurricanes, but because they have become unsafe for learning, it strikes a deeper chord within us all.
This is not just about maintenance or infrastructure; it is about dignity. When a child walks into a classroom that smells of mold, or when teachers are forced to adapt around leaking ceilings or pest infestations, it sends an unintended message: you are being asked to learn in less than you deserve.
Sint Maarten, like many small island developing states, faces unique challenges. Our economy is limited in scale, our resources stretched, and our infrastructure constantly tested by climate and humidity. Each year, public schools weather more than just storms; they weather the wear and tear of time, under budgets that often prioritize crisis response over consistent care.
What begins as a small issue, a leak, a crack, a damaged ceiling, slowly becomes a symbol of systemic neglect. It is time we shift from reaction to responsibility. We can no longer afford to treat school maintenance as an afterthought. Education infrastructure should be a living system, monitored, maintained, and cared for with the same commitment we bring to teaching itself.
This means creating a culture of care, one where upkeep is planned, budgets are sustained, and accountability is clear. It means adopting a facilities management approach that does not wait for things to break before fixing them. And it means listening to the voices of teachers, school management, and parents, who often see the warning signs first.
Our schools are living parts of our national identity. They have sheltered our people during hurricanes, hosted public meetings, and stood as landmarks of hope. Each chipped wall or broken fan tells a story not of failure, but of resilience, of people doing their best despite the odds.
But resilience must now evolve into readiness. We cannot keep asking our educators and children to adapt to environments that fail them. When we rebuild, we must build better, with climate-resilient classrooms that can withstand our environmental reality and reflect the pride we have in our country’s future.
Every child in Sint Maarten deserves to learn in a space that says: you matter. Every teacher deserves a workspace that honors their calling. Every parent deserves the peace of mind that their child’s classroom is safe, clean, and cared for. This is not only an investment in education; it is an investment in people. Because the state of our schools reflects the state of our priorities.
As a small island with big dreams, Sint Maarten cannot afford to neglect the foundations upon which its future stands. Safe, well-maintained schools are not luxuries; they are statements of who we are and what we value.
So, when the next school inspection reveals what needs fixing, let it not be a moment of embarrassment, but a moment of awakening. Let it remind us that education is not confined to lessons and textbooks; it lives in every corner of a clean classroom, every working light, every repaired roof.
For our children, for our teachers, and for our future, let us make the care of our schools a national priority. Because when we safeguard the dignity of our learning spaces, we safeguard the dignity of our country.