This is my side. I came to San Juan del Rio two weeks ago with the best of intentions. After seven plus years teaching in Asia, I wanted to come to Mexico to make a positive difference in the lives of my students. I still do.
I applied for a teaching job with Global International Institute. After four days of observing classes and teaching two others--- for no money---
I was not offered a position. Fair enough. No problem. That's part of the business. I accept that.
Then something terrible happened. On Monday, February 19th, I went to the internet to check my email. I received a letter from both my sisters and my father informing me that my stepmother had passed away.
She had been suffering from lung cancer. My first thought was to go home, even though I was just home last month. After speaking with my father and sisters, I was assured that things were fine and to stay in Mexico. They insisted that I continue looking for work and that things would be okay. I took that to heart and I'm still here.
The teachers in this beautiful colonial town have been very supportive. I'm proud to call them friends. They have been king and gracious enough to let me use their computer and call messenger service to keep in touch with my family during this difficult time. In fact, I was suppose to move into Peter and Ann's house to continue to be in contact with my family. They have two extra rooms.
Now here's the problem: I was supposed to move in on Tuesday, February 20th. Laurie Roberts, who runs the school with her Mexican husband Mario, confronted Peter to let him know that, since I was not working for her, I was not to live there. I then confronted Ms. Roberts to let her know that this was an agreement between myself, Peter and Ann.
Then I was told that this house was reserved for, in the words of Ms. Roberts, "our teachers." Peter and Ann signed the lease while Ms. Roberts and Mario are the co-signers. Again, fair enough. Or is it?
A day after my father buried his second wife, a day after my sisters buried our stepmother, Laurie Roberts and her husband Mario, the owners of the school, would not let me move into a place where I could be in constant contact with my grieving family! Not once did Ms. Robers call me to offer her condolences about my stepmother. (She did, however, only after I called her. Then she said that she wanted to speak to me about the "living arrangements.")
To say this is insensitive is a huge understatement. Withing this horrible tragedy, there was a wonderful opportunity for Ms. Roberts to say,
"I'm sorry about your stepmother, Steve. Even though we decided not to work together, I will put you in the teacher's residence so that you can call your family whenever you like. I realize you're going through a hard time right now, so let's put any differences aside. Take a week or two and make sure everything's all right. After all, we are all teachers."