It’s day two of hiding from the government inspectors touring the expensive, private international school I teach at in Istanbul. The other illegal English teachers and I are hiding in the drama room. If he comes too close, we’ll head out back to disappear off campus. While the official is allegedly on “friendly” terms with the administration, if we’re seen the school will be fined.

Or worse, we’ll be deported.

The drama room is noisy , in both English and Turkish. Yes, it isn’t only “native speakers” hidden away, in the name of tax evasion or some other non-transparent penny-pinching rational, some Turkish nationals are off-the-books, too. Though mostly they stay in the rooms posing as volunteer teachers.

No mind, after swearing about the hair-splitting situation, it’s all resignation I hear.

“All the private schools do this,” says one nine-year veteran teacher, with respite. “It’s normal. *Sigh.* Just yesterday, she was claiming, “Oh I hate this,” as she relabeled the classroom with Turkish language signs. Goodbye “Book Corner” hello “Kitap Köşesi .” Turkish schools are not legally allowed to conduct all of the classroom activities in English.

Meanwhile, true colors aren’t hard to see. Look behind the bookshelf, there’s a big pile of English-language books slumped there. Open the cupboard, the English-language bulletin board information is jammed between English sight words games and math worksheets in English.

Or just click on the school’s website, where an aesthetically-pleasing website promoting the English-language curriculum and English-speaking teachers flashes up, in both Turkish and English. My photo is on there too, looking all lovely and maternal with some kids. If the government officials don’t check out the web, they must be more technologically behind than most of suburban Istanbul. Or turning a blind eye.

Last week, in what feels like another world, I met up with two major players in Teachers Without Borders, an organization out of Seattle that aims at helping teachers help themselves around the world. A scientist and travel-savvy friend of mine now leads up programs on earthquake and emergency education curriculum, while the engaging founder heads all operations. TWB facilitates a web forum to connect teachers. Then, it helps them get what they want. Need computers? Earthquake education? Better transport? Teacher workshops on discipline in post-conflict situations? Programs that TWB organizes are generally the result of a teacher explicitly expressing her/his needs – a poster child for an NGO doing good.

And some of the stories about the teachers are remarkable. Imagine teaching the child who held up your village and killed your family members during a civil war. Or being the teacher trusted to proctor elections – if the wrong party wins, you risk being accused of rigging the system.

Yet I couldn’t help but think about the teachers I know here, who hardly know how to articulate their rage or needs. And they live in the secular social democracy that Obama praises, with good reason. They are the lucky teachers working at prestigious private schools. (Of course, I don’t know what the situation is like for teachers in public schools. Or other private schools. I just know the school I’m at now, and how unfair and confusing it all is from this angle.)

Meanwhile, Turkey isn’t the only country in the world to have an epidemic of illegal employment in teaching, or whatever other sector comes to mind, nor will it be the last.
Back to class, I start to ask around: why don’t people join together in a union. Demand accountability? Demand benefits and legal status, I ask. This isn’t fair! And, why doesn’t the press cover this corrupt business?

“The unemployment is high enough that the teachers won’t risk doing anything to help themselves,” says a friend. (Unemployment is around 14% in Turkey, though higher in the eastern part of the country. Unemployment in the US is around 8.5%.)

“I think people think there are bigger things to worry about,” said a friend of mine. “The parents are happy that their kids are learning English from native speakers.”

Then why hire me, use my picture on your website, introduce me to the parents who are trusting me with their children – and paying out the ear for it – if you don’t legally employ me? And poor Turkish teachers, who don’t get legal status in their own countries, let alone the same salary as their illegal foreign counterparts.

When it comes to organizations trying to make a difference, I applaud Teachers Without Borders for taking one step, assisting teachers around the world better teach children. I’ll encourage my colleagues to join.

I just wish that the rest of the pecking order in education would be held accountable, nnd that there could be better ways to monitor, assess and determine what the real needs of teachers are. Because many of them won’t admit it themselves, nor do most “official” statistics show what is really happening.

I just hope that the government official doesn’t read this, hunt me down and deport me. Then again, he might just walk into the drama room and we’ll be finished.