“The teacher is the second parent,” my mother told me before I left for school on the first day of first grade. “This is a place of knowledge, education and growth,” the teacher told us in the classroom. Yet, unfortunately, school became somewhere where I felt bored, neglected and experienced violence.

I was in seventh grade when a nongovernmental organization (NGO) came to our school to give a presentation about children’s rights. The presentation turned into a discussion, during which we students talked about how our teachers addressed us with words such as “fool” “idiot,” “ignorant” and phrases like “Your father should be ashamed of you.”

We discussed how we regularly bought breakfast for the teachers and sometimes even went to the seamstress to fix the buttons on their shirts. We talked about how we did this out of fear that, if we refused, the teachers would take revenge on us by giving us poor grades. We also mentioned how teachers still used a stick and slapped us to keep the class quiet or to punish anyone who hadn’t completed their assignments. We had become so accustomed to this behavior that we no longer saw it as a problem. We felt we had no one to turn to because we were part of a system that supported violence and considered teenagers ignorant.

At that presentation, I learned that according to Law No.04/L –032 on Pre-University Education in the Republic of Kosovo, each school should have a Student Council and a complaint box. Our school had neither. We were in a system where the school management and teachers had absolute power over the students. To counter this situation, I wanted to request the creation of a functional Student Council, so students could participate in the school’s decision-making processes. I also proposed that there should be a complaint box where students could voice their concerns and be properly heard.

With the help of the NGO Nevo Koncepti, and after much effort, our school established a Student Council. Meetings were held with all the class representatives and I was elected head of the council. The existence of the Student Council was not a big problem for the management and staff; they seemed content with implementing things on paper without actually putting them into practice. 

However, change had to happen.

As the head of the Student Council, the first thing I did was create a complaint box. The teachers immediately started making comments toward me such as “You’re turning into a lazy student, dealing with things that are not your responsibility, and you’re trying to make the school look bad.” They would say “Why do you want to become a spy?” and “Tomorrow, I want to meet your parents because you have started to fail your classes. You are no longer an excellent student like you used to be.”

I felt attacked and mostly very confused. I asked myself, what do my grades have to do with the Student Council? Why are my attempts to improve our school being seen as espionage? Will I receive bad grades from now on? Will I still be allowed to recite poems at school events?

However, I decided to persist. I insisted on keeping the complaint box. Within a month, complaints started pouring in, and it was time to open it. The school management didn’t like the idea of the box’s creation and refused to open it. I was told that the box was “bullshit,” and that “You shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” They said, “Complaint boxes are only used by students who don’t want to learn,” and “Good students don’t complain.”

Shocked again, I returned home. I called Nevo Koncepti and told them about what was happening, this cycle of attempts by several men to stop a child, a 12-year-old student, from a school-appropriate activity. With the organization’s support, I persisted until the complaints box was finally opened. The complaints in the box were numerous, ranging from low teaching standards to physical and psychological violence. I was assured that these complaints would be discussed and addressed.

The complaints box remained in place throughout my time at the school, but it was hard to tell how much the complaints were being taken into account. Radical change requires the active engagement of everyone, especially the school management and other decision-making bodies in education. I gave my best in a process that impacted my mental health and strained my relationships with my classmates. While some judged me, others offered inspiring support. Following this experience, my friends started to work with NGOs and youth groups that they had previously been unaware of.

Seeing this, I felt hopeful for change. The more students who know their rights, the more they will raise their voices against injustice. This experience taught me that in the life of an activist, sometimes things may seem impossible, but we must not forget that not every door is closed. We must seek the door that opens for us.

Feature Image: Atdhe Mulla / K2.0.